Dog Tags

by Heidi Glick

  Beth sneezed again. “I think I’m coming down with something. Do you think maybe we could stop by the drugstore on Fourth Street?”

  “Now? We don’t have time. Besides, then we have to change our route. I hadn’t planned on going that direction.”

  “But, it will be fun. The drugstore has these silly cards there I want to show you. And then we can pick up some allergy medication and something to drink because I’m a little thirsty. And if we’re stopping by the cemetery, maybe we should get some flowers.”

  Not a bad idea. Juanita might appreciate the gesture. “But what about Mark?”

  “What about him? You showed him who was boss. I don’t think he’s going to give us any trouble.”

  Could this be for real? Had Beth changed her tune this easily? “So you’re really starting to see things from my perspective.” He bit his lip. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Like you said, I’m a smart girl.” Beth coughed a few times and grabbed several wipes for her hands and then washed down the surrounding seat and console area. “Yeah, we probably should get more of these too. I might be coming down with something, and I wouldn’t want to spread germs all over your nice car.” Again she coughed. “I’m just so sorry. Would you prefer I sit in the back?”

  The Knight gritted his teeth. “No!”

  So Beth was smart but sick. Despite all his planning and calculating, something he hadn’t counted on. She probably got germs from being around Mark and his mangy mutt.

  He didn’t want to stop. They’d only waste time. And what if Mark did try to find them? Then what? Still, Beth didn’t feel well, and if he didn’t try to help her, what kind of knight would he be? Plus, he could refill his prescription while he was there. At the rate germs were leaving Beth’s body, he might need to double up on his dose just to get through this evening.

  48

  Mark slammed his fist on the steering wheel. Red flashing lights and a train signal teased him. His vehicle sat behind several others, awaiting a train he doubted would show up. All the while, Randy had Beth.

  Mark stepped out of his van to stretch his legs. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere anyway. Bill stayed on the phone with him and occasionally reminded him that his physical maladies were psychosomatic.

  Once out of the vehicle, Mark took a few steps forward and to the left of his van. God, can it be? A green car like the one parked by Fishy Business…like the one that had been parked in front of his house. Somehow he’d overlooked the similarities.

  Mark slipped back into the van. A train of cars sat wedged between his and Randy’s. “Bill, you still there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “You’re not going to believe this. I’m stopped at the train crossing by the abandoned paper mill near Citrus Avenue. A bunch of cars are in front of me. At the front of the line is Randy. I’m sure of it.”

  “Hold on.” Bill mumbled something. “OK, Tim’s dialing 9-1-1 again. We’ll have someone meet you there. Maybe you should wait until the cops arrive. Don’t try to be heroic.”

  Bill didn’t mean it in a bad way, but that word bothered him. He was no hero. He hadn’t saved Chris’s life. And maybe he’d fail to save Beth’s, too.

  The whistle of an approaching train sounded. He sized up the oncoming locomotive. He could risk it and hope it’d buy him time until the cops arrived. God, please give me wisdom.

  “Hey, Mark,” Bill said, “Tim says the evening trains aren’t that long.”

  Mark shook his head. Not the best place for a rescue. His mind flashed to the night Chris died. Beth’s own brother had been killed by friendly fire. What if an innocent bystander, not to mention Beth, was injured, maybe even killed in the attempt to save her?

  So many what ifs. Including what if Randy made off with Beth before the police or Mark could apprehend him. Mark shuddered. This might be the only chance for him to save the woman he loved. He’d try to disarm Randy without using a weapon if possible, but even if not, Mark still needed to take the chance. He flung open the van door and jogged several vehicles closer. Two cars remained between him and a madman.

  He inched his way closer and stooped to pick up a rock. With great force, he threw it at the window of the car then crouched behind the vehicle.

  Randy opened the driver’s side door and leaned toward the passenger’s side. “Beth, stay put,” he yelled.

  Mark stood and moved toward Randy, gun at the ready.

  The man stepped out of the car and began to turn around.

  Mark slipped his gun in his waistband and jumped the man from behind. “Beth, duck!” He tackled Randy to the ground, preferring to subdue the man rather than shoot him, if possible.

  The man moved his gun toward Mark.

  Mark pushed the gun out of the way.

  Randy struggled to move the firearm closer again.

  Mark wrapped his hands around the gun, redirected it away from traffic, then pulled the trigger, firing a shot.

  Randy tensed, and Mark slid the weapon across the pavement. The man scrambled toward it.

  Mark pointed his gun at Randy. “Let it go.”

  “Or what?” Randy reached for his weapon.

  Time to stop the threat at hand. Mark aimed and fired.

  Randy fell, and again, reached for his gun. He began to lift the weapon, swinging it toward Mark.

  Mark fired again. The slug slammed into Randy’s chest. Mark dashed toward Randy and kicked the gun away. With the man subdued, Mark shifted his gaze toward the car.

  Beth stood from a crouched position outside the vehicle and moved toward him.

  “Are you OK?” Mark asked.

  Beth nodded.

  Mark leaned over to check Randy’s pulse. Faint but present. Mark’s head pounded. He visually measured Randy’s blood loss.

  “Should we call 9-1-1?” Beth asked.

  “Already on their way. Tim called them for me. And I’m sure some of the drivers in the others cars have phoned this in by now.” Sure help was coming, but from the looks of Randy’s wounds, it’d be too late. Another person dead on Mark’s watch. His hand shook as he tucked his gun in his waistband.

  Beth grabbed his hand and rubbed it. “You had to do it. It was self-defense. If you didn’t shoot him, he would have shot us.”

  “Is everyone OK? What’s going on here?” A stout older gentleman with squinty eyes glared at Mark.

  Beth pointed at Randy. “That man has been sending me strange notes, and he kidnapped me.” She touched Mark’s shoulder. “But my boyfriend saved me.”

  Mark hung his head. He was no hero. Thank you, God. You’re the one who saved us all. In more ways than one. He made eye contact with the elderly man. “The police should be here any minute.”

  “I’ll give my statement to the authorities. Saw the whole thing.” The man held out his hand to Beth. “I’m Pete Brown, retired police officer, ma’am. If what you’re saying is true, young lady, then that’s quite a hero you’ve got here.” He thumbed toward Mark. “You better keep him around.”

  Beth’s eyes twinkled. “That’s what I’d like to do.”

  Mark wanted that as well, but even more than that, he wanted to get away from this scene and have a chance to talk to Beth, to discuss what happened.

  The last of the train roared along the tracks.

  “I’d move that vehicle,” Pete offered, “but it’d contaminate a crime scene. I’ll ask the other drivers to pull off to the side of the road and wait for the police to arrive.” Pete walked up to the car behind his to explain the situation to the driver then directed where to park. Other cars followed suit.

  Mark handed Beth his keys. “Can you move the van, please?”

  “Sure.” She walked off and parked the vehicle near the side of the road.

  The paramedics arrived but waited off to the side, four police officers close behind. So much for discussing things with Beth.

  Two of the officers worked to secure the scene. The first officer approached Mark. “I’ll n
eed your weapon.”

  Mark handed over the gun.

  The second officer collected Randy’s weapon.

  The first officer separated Mark and Beth. “Please go stand by the other police vehicle, ma’am. As for you, sir, I’m going to need you to put your hands behind your back and lean up against the vehicle.”

  Mark did as told, and the officer patted him down, presumably ensuring he didn’t have another weapon. A moment later, the cold touch of metal handcuffs grazed Mark’s wrists. He’d done nothing wrong, and yet, once the officer cuffed Mark, he stowed him in the back of a police cruiser. “I need you to wait in here while we sort things out.”

  Two other cops motioned for paramedics to enter the scene. They rushed in, examined Randy, loaded him onto a stretcher, and covered him with a white sheet. Not a bad idea considering the crowd that was forming. The two other cops appeared to be conversing with paramedics. No sirens blared as the ambulance left without Randy’s body, presumably for a medical examiner to contend with; the eerie absence of the siren jolted Mark back to the reality of what happened. He hadn’t been involved in a firefight in years. And yet, he didn’t suffer from an episode. One thing kept him going. The hope that Beth had truly forgiven him.

  Meanwhile, the other officers walked around from car to car and appeared to be taking statements from the passengers.

  The officer who had spoken to Mark opened the back of the adjacent police cruiser and escorted Beth inside. Must have been standard procedure, and yet, Mark clenched his jaw. Beth had been through enough in her life. She didn’t deserve this.

  The other officer spoke to Beth for quite some time, at least while the three other officers released the bystanders from the scene and made their way back to their vehicles.

  What would happen to him? He’d shot Randy for no other reason than to protect Beth and in self-defense. Surely, he wouldn’t be charged with excessive force. Lord, you know I acted in self-defense and to protect Beth. Please help the police to straighten things out.

  The other officer released Beth then returned to his vehicle. Beth appeared to make a phone call. Several minutes later, Marisa arrived and hugged Beth.

  Mark caught a glimpse of an unreadable look from Beth as she ducked into Marisa’s car. Was Beth angry with him? She’d said she’d forgiven him, but maybe only because of the heat of the moment. Perhaps she’d changed her mind. The officer cleared his throat before asking Mark another question, returning him to the reality of the present.

  After what seemed like an eternity of interrogation, the officer stared down at Mark. “Let’s get these cuffs off of you. You’re free to go. The evidence shows you acted in self-defense as well as in defense of your girlfriend.”

  As he left the crime scene, Mark realized there was only one place he wanted to be. And yet, Beth needed her rest. He’d visit her tomorrow. He rubbed a knot in his right shoulder. It wouldn’t hurt him to get some shut-eye, too.

  As he got into his van, he realized how close he’d come to losing Beth. Losing Chris was one thing. Losing Beth, too, another. Mark’s body shook, and he tried to make sense of his feelings.

  49

  The early morning sun glared through the windshield as Mark parked his van in front of Beth’s apartment.

  Mark shifted the weight of a cardboard coffee carrier into his left hand while he knocked on the door.

  Beth opened the door; eyes red and watery. A fresh tear streamed down her face. “I spoke to the police about what happened and mentioned how Randy told me about another woman in a cemetery. I’m guessing I’m not the first person he’d harassed. They gave me the name of a victim’s advocate. After that, I called Marisa, and she drove me home.” She rushed toward him and grasped his forearms. “Are you okay?”

  Mark freed himself from Beth’s hold, ambled to the coffee table, and set down the cardboard carrier. “I’m fine.” He tipped Beth’s chin. “The real question is, are you okay?”

  She nodded.

  “Brought some coffee. Hazelnut for me and minty mocha for you.” She reached for her coffee and took a sip. “Thanks.”

  He stared at her. “You meant what you said last night?”

  She returned her coffee to the carrier. “That I forgive you? Yeah. I know you loved Chris like a brother. You’d never hurt him intentionally.” She took a deep breath. “I won’t ask you who did shoot him. I have to forgive and let go. God’s forgiven me. What right do I have to hold a grudge?”

  “We can go to counseling, talk to someone about it. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to work through this. If you’re OK with that.”

  Moving closer, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.

  As a barrage of tears streamed down her already moist face, Mark moved back, then put one hand behind Beth’s head and leaned over to kiss her. Though the elderly bystander near the railroad crossing had called Mark a hero when he’d rescued Beth, Mark wasn’t sure he fit the bill. And yet, hero or not, he wanted to hold her forever and not let go. Drawing her head against his chest, he stroked her hair and held her close.

  Taking a glance at the nighttime sky, he released his breath and relaxed his shoulders a little. Beth knew his secret and still forgave him.

  Years of heavy guilt and pain fell from his chest. The God of all comfort had not forgotten him.

  ****

  Around late afternoon, Beth met Mark in front of her apartment. She locked her front door then scanned the parking lot.

  Mark stood face-to-face with her and grabbed her shoulders. “It’s over now, Beth. Randy’s dead. You’re safe.”

  She nodded and leaned forward. Their lips interlocked. Moving to Columbus would kill her. But there was no other way.

  As they walked to Mark’s van, he put his arm around her. “You ready for some fun?”

  She wasn’t, but neither was she going to put a damper on their picnic, perhaps their last one together. Unseasonably warm winter weather provided an excellent backdrop for their outdoor plans.

  When they arrived at the store, Mark had barely put the vehicle in park before Bill and Tim, clad in grilling aprons, greeted them.

  The four friends enjoyed lunch at the picnic table on the patio outside the store and watched boats arrive in the nearby marina. Owners strung lights on the exterior of their vessels.

  Beth fanned herself with a plate. Once they’d all finished eating, she threw her plate in the trash and winked at Tim. “My compliments to the chef.”

  Bill removed a pack of gum from his pocket, took out a piece, and offered one to his brother. “Hey, I want to try out some of the new bait we received yesterday.”

  Tim slowly stuck the gum in his mouth and stared at Mark.

  Mark waved his hands dismissively. “Go on. Take the boat without me. I trust you two.”

  “Why don’t you come with us?” Tim asked.

  “No, thanks.”

  Tim scratched his head. “So why are you concerned about this particular shipment of bait?”

  Bill touched Tim’s shoulder. “I’d like to go fishing with my little brother. Is that OK?”

  “OK.” Tim looked at Mark and Beth. “Guess we’ll see you two later.”

  Perhaps she should have spoken up, but it wasn’t her boat. It might have been fun to go out on the pontoon to catch a better glimpse of the lights in harbor. Plus, they were sure to have good seats for the marina winter fireworks and lights display. Maybe the guys would be back in time for the fireworks.

  “We’ll be back in about two hours,” Bill said. He and Tim waved and headed out the back of the store.

  Mark walked over to her. “Can you help me with something?”

  “Sure.” Beth followed him inside the store.

  “I left some bait containers by the cash register. Would you mind getting them for me?”

  So he’d rather sort bait than go out on the boat. At least they’d get to spend time together. If she moved to Columbus, Beth wouldn’t be seeing much of him. She’d better enjo
y her time with him while she could.

  Beth ambled to the register and grabbed six containers nearby. As she picked them up, she noticed something inside the top container. She walked to the back of the store and set the containers on a desk. “Mark, what are these?” She held up a pair of military dog tags.

  He didn’t answer. Perhaps he hadn’t heard her.

  “Mark, are these yours? I think you left these in one of the containers.” She dangled the tags in front of his face.

  Mark stared blankly, sitting at the desk. His business ledger book lay wide open in front of him. “Those aren’t my tags. I have mine on me. Check the name.”

  “Do you think maybe they belong to Tim or Bill?”

  Mark turned his back toward Beth. “I’d check the name.”

  She looked down at the tags then away and then down again. “Wait, I don’t get it.”

  He closed his ledger and looked up at her. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

  She studied the tags. “It says Elizabeth Graham on the tags. Mark?”

  Mark beamed. “You could say I was feeling confident you’d say yes.” He got up from his chair, dropped down on one knee, and pulled out a Tiffany cut diamond ring. He held it out, awaiting her response. “Elizabeth Martindale, will you have a fun summer with me, and not just one summer, but many more?”

  She covered her mouth with her hand.

  Sweat beaded on Mark’s brow.

  Beth looked him in the eyes. “Are you serious?”

  Mark nodded.

  She bent down to him and closed her eyes. Her lips met his and lingered there for a moment.

  He pulled back. “I take that as a yes?”

  “Yes, yes, of course.”

  He placed the ring on her finger.

  “Mark, it’s beautiful.”

  He took a deep breath and sighed. “It was my grandmother’s engagement ring.”

  Beth fixed her gaze on the ring then shifted it to Mark. “You didn’t do this just to get me to stay, did you?”