Captain's Mission

by Debby Giusti

  “Just a gut feeling, sir.”

  Wilson raised his brow and waited for Kelly to explain. She wanted to give her boss enough information to understand her feelings about the case, but she didn’t want to dig a hole she couldn’t get out of later if her gut was wrong.

  No matter how strongly she believed something was going on with Lola Taylor, Kelly needed hard evidence for her report that Wilson would send up the chain of command to the commanding general. Since the governor seemed to be interested in this case, the determination she came to could go all the way to the state level, as well.

  “Taylor lived on his mother’s property north of town, sir. The neighboring property contained a series of traps large enough to snare a human being. I’m trying to determine who owns that land.”

  “But how does that play into Taylor’s death?”

  “At this point, I’m not sure. But his mother was released from the local nursing home last year. Taylor’s wife cared for her while he was deployed and now the older woman is bedridden and unable to communicate.”

  “A lot can happen to a person in a year, Agent McQueen.”

  “Yes, sir, but—”

  What she really wanted to say was that Lola Taylor was hiding something and was less than forthright about her mother-in-law’s medical care. She took her to a doctor suspected of criminal activity and seemed to push sleeping pills to quiet the older woman. All of which went along with Kelly’s gut feeling, and in no way was anything she would mention to Wilson at this point.

  “Sir, if you could give me a little more time. A number of items are still up in the air, which I’d like to follow to their logical conclusion, before I complete my report.”

  He sniffed and then nodded. “I don’t know if you’ve seen the Atlanta papers, but the media is having a heyday with Corporal Taylor’s death. They’re claiming a military cover-up.”

  “I, ah, haven’t seen the papers, sir.” No hiding the fact that she was getting deeper into a sticky situation that became more complicated the longer the case remained unresolved.

  “Well, I hope you tune into what’s happening at the state capitol. The governor wants a speedy resolution to this case, as does the post commanding general. Tomorrow is the post Hail and Farewell social gathering at the club. The general will, no doubt, corner me and ask when the investigation will be completed. I’d like to tell him it will be wrapped up by the following day, Saturday. That gives you forty-eight hours to tie up those loose ends.”

  “Yes, sir.” Forty-eight hours wasn’t long. Hopefully it would be long enough.

  “Sir, if Private Stanley did discharge the bullet that killed Corporal Taylor, it was accidental.” Phil stood in front of his battalion commander’s desk, trying to make a case for Stanley’s innocence.

  “You’re basing that on his allegation about another person taking control of his weapon just before Taylor was shot?”

  “Well, sir, the so-called other person hasn’t materialized, but Stanley’s sure he passed his weapon back to someone.”

  “Yet no one in the squad can confirm his statement.”

  “That’s correct, sir.” Phil felt he was losing the battle with Lieutenant Colonel Knowlton. “Chaplain Sanchez is with him, sir. He’s had counseling training, and he’s trying to see if something else can come to light.”

  “Knowing Chaplain Sanchez, he’s probably praying with the kid.”

  If not for the seriousness of the situation, Phil would have smiled. His commander was right. The chaplain had mentioned praying with the private.

  In Phil’s opinion, prayer wouldn’t improve Stanley’s memory, but the chaplain’s concern for the soldier could do a world of good. Plus, if the private had fabricated the story to cover his own guilt, getting right with the Lord might make him realize he needed to admit the truth.

  “What’s the CID agent’s take on the situation?” the lieutenant colonel asked.

  At this point, Phil wasn’t sure what Kelly believed. “She’s still actively investigating the case and plans to have a decision soon, sir.”

  Knowlton nodded. “What’s she like?”

  “Ah—” Phil hesitated, not knowing how forthright he should be with his commander.

  Truth was she was a career warrant officer committed to serving her country. Certainly not the type of woman Phil should be interested in, yet Kelly had occupied his attention ever since she had sallied into his life at the live-fire range.

  Beware, logic kept warning him, filling his mind with memories of a young boy whose mother left him for a better job. Strong though he wanted to be, his heart got the upper hand and overrode all his good intentions to remain unaffected by the CID agent.

  Phil cleared his throat and attempted to come up with an opinion that would not reveal his true feelings. “Sir, she’s as determined as I am to get to the bottom of what happened. To Agent McQueen, the job comes first.”

  “Sounds like high praise, Phil. I’m glad to hear it. I’ve heard talk from some of the single officers. They’ve said the same thing about being committed to her job 24/7. That’s exactly who we want leading this investigation.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ve also heard she’s an excellent marksman.”

  Phil nodded. “I believe she outshot the other contenders in the post-wide sharp shooting contest last year.”

  “Now that’s impressive. Let’s hope she’s also speedy with her determination. The commanding general called the brigade commander and put a little pressure on him to ensure everything is wrapped up as soon as possible.”

  “That’s my desire, as well.”

  Knowlton nodded. “Good, that means we’re on the same page.” He glanced at the calendar on his desk. “The Hail and Farewell is tomorrow night, Friday. The commanding general will open his remarks around sixteen hundred hours. You’ll be there?”

  “Four o’clock. Of course, sir.”

  “Let me know when Agent McQueen comes to a decision.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  With a brisk salute, Phil left the commander’s office and headed back to his own headquarters. He needed to tell Kelly that pressure might be coming to bear in the next day or so.

  She had mentioned a scheduled meeting with Chief Agent in Charge Wilson. When Phil called the CID office, Jamison answered. “What’s up, Captain?”

  “Is Kelly around? She said she had a meeting with your boss.”

  “She left his office a short while ago, but I’m not sure where she is now. She looked like she had a lot on her mind.”

  “Then I have a hunch where she might be.”

  Jamison laughed. “If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, you’re right. Where does Kelly always go when she’s stressed?”

  Phil pulled into the parking lot of the indoor shooting range and spied Kelly’s Corolla near the door.

  Stepping inside, he caught sight of her on the far firing lane. She held her Sig Sauer in both hands and was aiming at a target downrange. As he neared, he realized she was hitting the center mark with every shot.

  She couldn’t hear him approach with the ear protection she wore, so he stood to the side and watched as she fired one round after another.

  Phil had to admire her ability, but he also wondered why she was so obsessive about her shooting. Once she lowered her weapon and took off her protective ear coverings, he approached her.

  As Kelly turned, recognition spread over her face. “How long have you been standing here?”

  “Long enough to be impressed with your ability.”

  She shrugged off his compliment. “Target practice goes along with being a CID agent.”

  He glanced at the other lanes. “I don’t see Jamison here.”

  “Maybe he was born a good marksman.” She holstered her weapon and wiped the palms of her hands on her slacks. “I’ve got to work to keep my skill sharp.”

  “You’re more than sharp, Kelly.” He glanced at the target. “You’re dead-on with every shot.”
<
br />   She wrinkled her brow. “I’m not sure I like your choice of words.”

  “Dead-on?”

  “I practice so I can deter crime, Phil. The last thing I want is to fatally wound someone, even a perpetrator. Not that I wouldn’t if I had to in order to save an innocent person’s life.”

  “I thought cops always shoot to kill.”

  “Not this one.”

  “If you’re not tied up tonight, I could bring over another pizza.”

  She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ve got work to do.”

  “On the investigation?”

  Kelly nodded. “Wilson wants everything wrapped up within forty-eight hours. I need to input information into the file and start on the final report.”

  “But you need to eat, and I promise not to distract you.”

  “I’m sorry, Phil, but the job comes first.”

  The words burned in his memory. His mother had often said the same thing. Then one day she’d walked out of his life. He’d come home from school and found a note saying she had received a transfer and that she would contact him later. He’d never heard from her again.

  He had thought Kelly was different from his mother. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  A strange feeling wrapped around Kelly as she drove away from the firing range. She glanced in her rearview mirror and saw Phil still sitting in his pickup.

  He had said a hasty goodbye after she’d made the comment about needing to get work done this evening. Without as much as a backward glance, he’d climbed into his truck.

  In a way, she felt hurt. Yet a part of her knew she had probably been too abrupt, as well. Seems they both had issues.

  Her phone rang as she was still trying to determine why she was upset about Phil. “This is Special Agent McQueen.”

  Officer Simpson’s voice came over the phone. “Sorry it’s taken me a while to track down information about that land you were interested in.”

  “Not a problem.” Actually, she had decided to go into town and do a search of the county land records if she hadn’t heard back from him by morning.

  “The guy who holed up in that deserted trailer called himself Catfish Ryan.”

  She smiled. “He liked to fish?”

  “That’s right. Even more, he liked to have fish fries out at his campsite. Evidently folks would come from all around.”

  “For the fish?”

  “For the betting. He ran cockfights on his property for a number of years.”

  A sense of euphoria swept over Kelly. Maybe she was on the right track, after all.

  “Never built himself a home. Told some of the people I talked to that he wanted to be able to get up and go at a minute’s notice. Seems he did just that for a number of years before he returned to Freemont.”

  “So he was the old codger who lived in the deserted trailer?”

  “Probably so. From what I hear, Catfish stayed clear of the law and was a regular recluse. Doubt many folks knew anyone lived out there.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “The people I talked to haven’t seen him recently. He may have headed north again.”

  “What about the Taylors? Did they like their neighbor?”

  “That’s the funny thing. I wouldn’t have found out except one of the gals who knew Catfish let it slip that he has a sister. She’s been under the weather and doesn’t get out much anymore.”

  “Go on,” Kelly encouraged.

  “The sister’s name is Millie. Millie Ryan.”

  Kelly shoved the phone closer to her ear as Simpson continued. “Millie married a man named Taylor. They had one son.”

  “Rick Taylor,” Kelly filled in. “Who died in a live-fire accident two days ago.”

  “Strange coincidence, eh?” Simpson said.

  She nodded. “Do you believe in coincidence, Officer Simpson?”

  “Nope.”

  “What about gut feelings?”

  “What cop doesn’t?”

  “Amen to that,” Kelly said before she disconnected.

  She didn’t have time to go home and work on her report. Everything was falling into place. All she needed was to tie up some of the loose ends.

  SIXTEEN

  If Kelly didn’t want pizza for dinner, maybe Chinese would work. At least that’s what Phil hoped as he picked up the carry-out order and drove to her house.

  Call him stubborn, but he wanted to see Kelly and wouldn’t take no for an answer. But when he pulled into her driveway, he realized she may not have wanted him around for a very good reason.

  The house sat dark and empty. Stepping from his truck, he walked to the window and peered inside the empty garage. Kelly hadn’t mentioned going anyplace or that she had a date, although the latter left a sour taste in his mouth.

  Getting back in his truck, Phil pulled out of the drive and headed to State Road 15, which he followed for about a mile before he eased his truck off the pavement and onto the path that wound deep into the woods.

  From the road no one would realize the narrow dirt road skirted the vacant property and continued on to the Taylor farm. How much farther it went, Phil wasn’t sure. However, he was sure that Kelly suspected Lola of not giving her mother-in-law adequate care. Plus, she believed the Foglio teen might be using the deserted trailer as a place to bed down.

  If the kid had attempted to break in to Kelly’s property again, she might have gone after him. Alone in the dark, and that worried Phil. Especially after the shots that had been fired the last time they’d been in the area.

  Although Kelly was a CID agent and the best marksman on post, she could still be outnumbered and overpowered, and that made him uneasy.

  She could also be out with one of the young, single officers on post. Or a civilian from Freemont. Maybe a guy who wanted to settle down and start a family.

  Phil groaned at that thought. Was Kelly interested in having children? Not that he’d bring that up in conversation no matter how well he got to know her.

  The deserted trailer appeared to his right. The moon cast the area in light. He braked to a stop and watched for anything that would indicate the property was occupied.

  On the far edge of the clearing, a large buck stepped from the darkness, his antlers visible in the moonlight. Behind him a doe and fawn grazed. Had he and Kelly jumped to a very wrong decision about the snares, when in reality they had been set to capture game?

  Perhaps their imaginations had gone wild with the investigation, as well. If Stanley’s rifle had fired accidentally, the investigation could be wrapped up in a day or two. Phil would have his hand slapped and perhaps something written in his Officer’s Efficiency Report about what had happened under his command.

  The black mark on his record would mean he wouldn’t be selected for promotion. Enough officers with outstanding records were vying for major. No reason for the promotion board to choose a captain with a stain on his past.

  Maybe he should have canceled the four days in the field for his unit when he received the live-fire tasking. Or at least cut the field time down by half. That way his men would have been more alert for the mission and better able to make a good showing for the visiting dignitaries.

  But they would have missed two days of training. Money was tight in the army. The training schedule had been approved. Phil wouldn’t let time in the field slip through his fingertips just to make the governor happy.

  No matter what Kelly determined about the incident and no matter what his commander and the commanding general decided, Phil had done the right thing. Even if it cost him his career in the army.

  As hard as it was to think of leaving Fort Rickman and returning to civilian life, another thought tangled through his mind. Even harder than leaving the military would be to leave Kelly. Somehow over the past few days, she had taken hold of his thoughts. If he were completely honest, he might realize she’d taken hold of his heart, as well.

  Kelly peered at the farmhouse, searching for any sign of activity. Mildred’s
room had been dark for the past hour, but the lights in the main area of the house spilled into the backyard and over the caged roosters that, so far, the neighbor had not picked up.

  If Kelly was lucky, he might show up tonight. That is, if there was a neighbor.

  Her hands were stiff from the cold, and her injured leg ached from the dropping temperature. She needed to return to her car and hunker down there.

  Stepping quietly through the leaves, she retraced her steps and pulled open the door. A strange smell wafted past her. She sniffed, slipped into the driver’s seat and screamed.

  Luckily not a loud scream, more like a startled yip.

  Phil sat in the passenger’s seat with a Cheshire cat grin on his face visible in the moonlight. “Sorry, I scared you, but I wanted to prove my point.”

  Kelly had automatically reached for her holstered weapon. Now she eased her hand away from her gun and patted her chest, hoping to calm her heart, which was on a frantic path to cardiac arrest.

  “Prove your point about what?” she asked once she found her voice.

  “You left yourself open for trouble by keeping the car door ajar.”

  She waved her hand in the air to discredit his concern. “Noise travels in the quiet. I didn’t want Lola to hear it slam closed.”

  “And what about Kyle Foglio?”

  “The trailer was empty. I checked.”

  Phil shook his head with frustration. “The kid was roaming through these woods the first night you saw him, Kelly. He could be anywhere. And what about those shots? Have you already forgotten the three rounds and my broken taillight?”

  “Okay, okay.” She sank down into the seat. “I messed up. But I was more worried about Mildred than I was about Kyle, or a hunter who left the area as soon as he heard the police sirens. Plus, I wanted to see what Lola was up to.”

  Kelly glanced over her shoulder and searched the darkness. “Where’s your truck?”

  “In a cluster of pines where it can’t be spotted. You, on the other hand, didn’t cover your tracks, as well. I came out here thinking you went after Kyle Foglio. But the clearing was deserted. Then I spotted your Corolla with the door open.”