Fatal Mistake--A Novel

by Susan Sleeman

  “We need to get inside.” With gentle pressure on her back, he steered her toward the house, ending their amazing interlude. If Tara would be brutally honest with herself, she’d admit she never wanted it to end.

  Chapter 16

  Tara stepped into the kitchen the next morning and found Cal alone. Wearing a pressed version of yesterday’s uniform, he rested against the granite countertop and cupped his hands around a mug, his focus fixed on the blue stoneware. She wondered about his pensive study, but when he looked up, his face held no sign of deep introspection, or he’d managed to hide it from her.

  “Good morning,” she said, and went straight to the refrigerator to put off telling him that she’d decided to assist in looking for the rifle today.

  He mumbled a “good morning” back at her. She grabbed the orange juice and filled a large glass. She didn’t have to see his eyes to know he was tracking her movements, and once she turned to face him, she’d have to share her decision.

  She took a long drink of the cool juice before pivoting. Looking him square in the face, she opened her mouth, but words failed her.

  He held up a hand. “You don’t have to say it. You’re going to lead us through the woods today.”

  She nodded. “You should know, though, I did take your concerns into account. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t help and Oren hurt another person.”

  He set down his mug. “Trust me, I get that. Besides, I expected you’d decide in favor of helping.”

  “You know me that well, huh?”

  He met her gaze and held it. “I’m coming to.”

  And she was coming to know him, too, which she doubted was a good thing.

  He pushed off the counter, rising to his full height and seeming to take up all of the space in the room. “I was hoping we might reach a compromise.”

  Compromise from him? Mr. By-the-Book. She was all for compromise, and it thrilled her to see he knew the meaning of the word, but unfortunately, she didn’t trust his motives and needed clarification before she would agree to anything.

  “Compromise how?” she asked.

  “We’ll spend the morning searching for the rifle. If we don’t find anything, we’ll head to D.C.”

  “Interesting compromise.”

  “I continue to believe the pump house ruins will help you remember more about that night, and that will best serve us in the long run. But I know you want to assist in finding the rifle.” He appraised her for a long moment. “Do we have a deal?”

  Him considering her wishes for once? She didn’t need to think twice.

  “Deal.” She stuck out her hand.

  He engulfed her fingers in his and shook, but he quickly released her hand. “The rest of the team left for the scene hours ago. So why don’t you grab something to eat, and we can get moving?”

  The tension in the room seemed to ease, but she thought it better that they didn’t remain in the house alone for much longer.

  She picked up a banana and protein bar. “I’ll eat on the way.”

  She expected him to argue—to insist she have a more filling meal—but he gestured at the door. In the car, her appetite returned, and she devoured her food as he launched into detailed safety procedures for their search. He gave her so many dos and don’ts that, by the time they stepped outside at the bomb site, her head spun with all the details.

  Frowning, he paused by the rear of the SUV and looked up at the sky. She followed his gaze to ominous gray clouds. Humidity saturated the air, and even with the clouds obscuring the sun, the thermometer had risen above eighty degrees.

  “Rain’s coming,” he said. “We need to get going before it does and destroys any evidence we might find.”

  He opened the SUV hatch and began unloading gear. Rick crossed over to the SUV. Like the other team members, he wore khaki pants and a navy shirt. The others were all neat and clean-looking, but there was an extra sharpness to Rick’s attire at all times, as if he still tried to maintain military precision in his appearance. He shot a look between her and Cal, likely gauging the mood after last night’s tension.

  “Don’t worry,” Tara said. “We’ve reached a compromise.”

  Rick gave a sharp nod, then grabbed a clipboard and calculator from his bag. In order to determine the direction for their search, Cal and Rick compiled trajectory possibilities for the rifle shot that could have detonated the bomb.

  She rested on the bumper and watched the pair. Their heads bent together over a clipboard with drawings filled with angles and numbers. They bandied about words like wind speed, range, and bullet diameter. It didn’t take long for her to see they were both extremely knowledgeable about weapons.

  Their expertise impressed Tara, but then their many skills already awed her.

  Cal tapped the clipboard. “So we’re agreed. We have three locations to scout.”

  “Affirmative.” Rick stepped back. “Let’s get it done.”

  A southern accent she’d caught the slightest hint of before today threaded through his tone, and one corner of his mouth turned up a fraction. Rick liked weapons. He made that more than clear. As he was the team’s ballistics expert, it also made sense.

  Cal grabbed a bag labeled with Kaci’s name in black letters. “Kaci is the smallest person on the team, and she’s already agreed to let you wear her gear.” He pulled out an army-green vest and dropped it over Tara’s shoulders.

  She stood so he could help fasten the tabs, and the heavy weight threatened to buckle her knees. “Odd that this is smaller than the one I wore yesterday, but it feels heavier.”

  “First, you were fueled with adrenaline yesterday, making it seem lighter. And second, Kaci is a pack rat and has the vest jammed with stuff. Let me lighten the load a bit.”

  He removed ammunition mags from pockets, a first aid bag, and various tools clipped on the outside. “Sorry, the ceramic plates alone weigh about ten pounds, but they’re needed to protect against high-caliber ammo. If you get tired, let me know, and we’ll take a rest.”

  “Thank you,” she said, wondering if Oren actually was up in a tree ready to shoot her.

  She wouldn’t worry. She’d remember Shane’s words from last night instead and believed Oren wouldn’t dare attack with the swarm of agents in the area.

  Cal settled a helmet on her head. Adjusting the chin straps, he brushed his fingers against her skin, firing off her nerves. She forgot all about the weight of the vest and the heat the helmet instantly trapped next to her scalp and focused on his face.

  He met her gaze and lingered, and her heart rate kicked into a higher gear.

  He suddenly dropped his hands to step back. “I’m sure you can take care of the strap.”

  How did she allow him to do this to her? Worse, she let him see the effect his touch had on her. She needed to control her emotions. Better yet, she had to keep from letting him touch her again.

  He grabbed icy-cold bottles of water and loaded the backpack. “In this heat you need to stay hydrated, so don’t hesitate to ask for water breaks.”

  She nodded, and he handed her the GPS device where he’d entered their first coordinates and a map displayed the targeted location.

  “Follow me.” She set off.

  “Hold up.” Cal caught up to her and took her arm. “Remember we go together. Side by side or we don’t go at all.”

  “There are some spots on this route that are too narrow for side by side.”

  “When that happens, we’ll assess the threat and go from there. Until then, you need to pretend we’re connected at the hip.”

  His words brought a crazy image to mind, and she laughed.

  “I’m serious,” he growled at her.

  “Don’t worry, I get it,” she assured him.

  With Cal at her side, Tara crossed the road, and Rick took up the rear. She stepped into knee-high grass that tangled around her feet and ankles, making the trip forward difficult.

  “Clearly, this is the easy way.” The sarcasm
she’d come to expect from Rick wove through his voice.

  “You should live by Cal’s motto.” She turned and smiled up at Rick. “The only easy day was yesterday.”

  Cal broke out in unexpected laughter, and Rick chuckled, too. She’d never heard Rick laugh, but she only cared about the cheerful sound coming from Cal. His unusual lighthearted stance gave her a glimpse at the man he did his best to hide.

  She swallowed hard to ignore the way his good mood sent her pulse beating fast and gestured ahead. “It’ll get easier once we reach the actual path.”

  Despite the moisture-wicking lining of the helmet, perspiration quickly covered her head. The skies continued to threaten rain, and if the heat wave didn’t break under the rain, the highs were expected to reach one hundred degrees by afternoon. It would be a good ten degrees cooler in the shaded forest, but wearing the vest and helmet would soon sap her strength.

  She slipped under low-hanging branches and moved to the right a few feet where the trees opened up to a narrow path.

  “Here’s the reason you brought me along.” She nodded at the trail ahead.

  “Sweet,” Rick said, but Cal was looking up through the trees and didn’t immediately respond.

  “I’ll lead,” he finally said. “Tara next.”

  Tara had no reason to argue, so she nodded but added, “The path forks ahead. Veer right and your coordinates are about a hundred yards after that.”

  He set off. Tara followed, watching him instead of the path. How could such a large man move so fluidly and silently? She pictured him as a SEAL sneaking through a jungle, his mind set on rescuing a hostage. Focused on his mission.

  If she found herself in such a situation, she wouldn’t want any other man coming to her rescue. Not even Rick, who seemed more than competent, too. She felt this way about Cal for the same reason she was leery of him. He took command of a situation and approached it with everything he was made of.

  Did he run his life outside the job the same way? He’d mentioned that he wouldn’t be a dictator in his personal life if he even had one, but turning off this working attitude at the drop of a hat? She couldn’t imagine that.

  At the fork, he headed right and came to a stop.

  “We’ll start our search here.” He caught Tara’s attention. “Go ahead and take a rest at the base of the tree next to you.”

  She didn’t want to appear to be the weak one in the group. “I’m good.”

  “With the possible sniper angles in this area, if you sit where I tell you, you’ll be protected from rifle fire, and I can search more freely without worrying about you.” He cracked a smile. “You can even take the helmet off for now.” He dug out a bottle of water and handed it to her.

  She lowered herself to the ground and gladly unclipped the helmet. She swiped the perspiration from her forehead and chugged the water. Sweat trickled down her neck. She must look quite a sight. Not that the guys cared about how she looked. They walked together, heads down, and stepped in an unspoken grid pattern. The heat didn’t seem to bother them. She’d played softball in high school and worked the farm, but she was such a girly girl compared with the Knights. She honestly had very little in common with Cal, and yet they were attracted to each other. Clearly, there was no accounting for what the heart wanted.

  “We can move on to the next location,” Cal soon announced.

  She clamped the helmet on her head, stowed her water bottle, and stared at Cal. “I assume you want to lead, so take the same trail back to the scrub by the road.”

  He nodded and they set off. Back at the knee-deep grass, she stepped ahead, and he moved to her side.

  “When did you have time to find all these trails?” he asked.

  “The few rainy days that we’ve had this summer.”

  “So you slogged through all of this in the rain?”

  She nodded.

  He shook his head. “You keep surprising me at how tough you are.”

  She snorted. “I was just thinking about what a wuss I am compared to you all.”

  “Well, that’s a given.” He grinned, revealing a small dimple on one side. Ah, that boyish charm she found irresistible had returned. “But still. You’re a strong person, Tara. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

  Why had she been blessed with smiles and laughter from him today? Should she ask? No, not with Rick nearby.

  She led them to the next path. It was wider, so they continued walking together until they approached their location. Cal grabbed her arm, stopping her forward progress. She tried to preempt his need to instruct her and looked for a place to sit.

  “Have you been here recently?” he asked, instead of directing her to sit.

  She shook her head.

  He gestured ahead at the side of the path. “The trampled foliage says someone has.”

  Excitement and fear commingled in her stomach. “Oren, yesterday?”

  “Could be.”

  “If I help with the search we can figure it out faster.”

  “Sorry,” he replied. “Rules of evidence prevent me from allowing you anywhere near potential evidence before I’ve had a look myself.”

  “So you want me to sit down and wait.”

  He shook his head. Gone were his smiles and easygoing laughter. “I want you on alert and ready to flee if needed.”

  He and Rick shared a look as they raised their weapons. Cal a handgun, Rick his submachine gun. He planted the stock on his shoulder and scanned the area. Tara had no problem imagining him in his former role as a marine sniper, but his caution made her want to bolt in the other direction.

  “You think Oren is here? Now?” Tara tried to keep the anxiety from her voice, but failed.

  “Can’t be too careful.” Rick’s tone mirrored Cal’s.

  They set off together. Rick was as light-footed as Cal, and he continued to prove his serious nature, smiling even less than Cal. Tara had seen another side to Rick, though. He was a compassionate man who wanted to help others, much like Cal. Like the whole team.

  “Over here.” Cal jerked his phone from his belt clip and snapped pictures of the ground.

  Rick stood at attention, his gun and gaze continually sweeping over the area. She respected his discipline, which kept him from changing his focus to check out the lead Cal had located. She didn’t possess the same discipline and warred with thoughts of racing over to Cal, where he now squatted in the ferns abutting the path. He dug latex gloves from his pack and snapped them on. He moved foliage aside, then jumped to his feet and shot a look at the tree line. He pointed at an area nearer to her.

  “There.” He strode up the path.

  Rick followed right on Cal’s heels, swinging his weapon in arcs, his posture and intense focus frightening Tara. Cal rushed to the tree and began shimmying up the trunk.

  Amazed at the body strength that allowed him to move without much leverage, she couldn’t pull her eyes away, but her thoughts went back to yesterday when the climb involved a hail of bullets.

  She had to know if they were in danger. “What did you find by the path?”

  “A rifle,” Cal replied, but didn’t stop his climb.

  “Make?” Rick asked, for the first time showing interest in Cal’s discovery.

  “Remington 798.”

  “It’s chambered for a .30-06, too.”

  They were talking about the caliber of bullets, but she didn’t know the importance of this particular caliber. “Which means what exactly?”

  Rick glanced at her. “The bullet we believe set off the bomb is a .30-06.”

  “So this could be the rifle, then.” She paused to process the news and looked up at Cal. “But why climb the tree?”

  “I wanted to check the firing angle to be sure.” He peered down at her. “There’s blood up here. Likely Keeler’s.”

  Rick glanced around the area. “Nothing on the ground, so I doubt it’s a serious wound, and he wouldn’t have sought medical attention. We should still follow up with local medical facilit
ies. Even if we strike out, at the very least, the blood could provide a physical connection to Keeler’s role in detonating the bomb.”

  “Wouldn’t there also be fingerprints on the rifle?” Tara asked.

  “Could be, if he didn’t wear gloves, but the blood will also place him in the right position to have fired at the truck.”

  Thunder rumbled from above, a rare phenomenon in this part of the country. Tara’s attention went to the angry clouds rolling over each other as if trying to fight for space.

  “Get back to the bomb site, Rick.” A thread of urgency wove through Cal’s voice. “Lead Brynn out here to preserve the evidence before it rains.”

  Tara opened her mouth to remind Rick of the paths they’d taken to reach this location, but then it hit her that he, like Cal, would know their exact steps and could retrace them without any help, so she turned her attention back to Cal. He’d gotten out his camera and snapped pictures of a branch.

  “Tara, can you locate our exact GPS coordinates on my device and mark it?” he asked without looking at her. “Then go to the area where I found the rifle and do the same thing?”

  “Sure.” Not technically inclined, she hoped she could pull it off.

  “Don’t step off the path by the rifle or you risk contaminating the area but get as close as you can.”

  She punched a few buttons, located the right settings, and marked Cal’s location before doing the same with the rifle. By the time she’d finished, Cal dropped to the ground. He stepped to the rifle location, dug a tarp from his pack, and shook it out. The plastic waved in the breeze until he wrestled it under control to cover the rifle. He grabbed his phone and dialed.

  “Gorton,” he said, and Tara recognized the name as belonging to the local sheriff. “We have a second shooter, and I have reason to believe he’s been injured. Not likely a gunshot wound, but more likely a puncture from a tree branch. I realize you have limited resources, but I need your people to check with local medical facilities for anyone recently treated for such a wound.”