Cold Dawn

by Susan Sleeman

  “So he traveled somewhere, but we don’t even know when he wore those shoes.”

  “True.” She turned on her stool to look at him. “But I doubt he packed them this dirty, right? So my guess is he’s been out of the area since he arrived to stay with you.”

  “Out of the area, like what distance?”

  “This type of soil is found predominantly in the Willamette Valley.” She didn’t need to explain that the valley ran for one hundred fifty miles and was surrounded by mountains on all sides but the north, because as a native Oregonian, Griff knew that.

  “You think he went back to Portland?” Griff asked, since the valley was home to seventy percent of the state’s population, including Portland.

  “Sounds like a good possibility,” she said. “We should look at his car, too. If we can, that is. If it was at the cannery then Blake likely had it impounded.”

  Griff shook his head. “It was found parked by Ziggy's Pub.”

  “Ziggy’s.” She jumped to her feet. “I know that bar. Lots of fights. Andy would never go there. But Nick would.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  She planted her hands on her hips, her eyes holding the excitement of a lead. “Where’s the car now?”

  “His parents had it towed back to their house.”

  “They might have his keys, then. Or they could have a spare.”

  He nodded. “It would be like Andy to plan for an emergency and give a set to them.”

  She paused, her eyes glazing over. “We have that dinner with Hannah and Gage tonight, but right after we get back from Portland tomorrow, we need to go check out his car.”

  Griff nodded, but scratched his chin. “I don’t much like the idea of having to bother his parents again.”

  “Remember, you said they’ll want answers.”

  He couldn’t help but grin. “You don’t miss a thing I say, do you?”

  “Honestly,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “I’m on pins and needles around you right now. So no, I’m hearing and overanalyzing everything you say.”

  “Yeah, me too,” he said wishing it wasn’t true and the ease would return between them. Sadly, he doubted it ever would.

  Sam started to say something, but spun on her stool and resumed picking out other items from the boots…like pine needles that Griff knew were also found in the valley chock full of majestic pines.

  She worked for another thirty minutes and sat back to stretch. “Nothing else stands out here. Everything’s consistent with a trip to the valley.” She bagged the shoes again and reached for Nick’s cup. She carefully took it from the bag, removed the straw and plastic top, and put them back in a fresh bag.

  “For DNA,” she said. “I’ll send this out to Emory.”

  “Does she work for PPB?”

  “No, she’s at the Veritas Center. It’s a private lab in Portland. Besides DNA they also have experts in forensic anthropology, trace evidence, ballistics, cybercrimes, and toxicology.”

  Griff couldn’t even imagine such a place was needed in the private sector, but then he couldn’t have imagined that Blackwell Tactical would be needed either, and their business was thriving. “That’s an odd name for a lab.”

  “It’s Latin for truth. They process criminal forensics for police departments, but their main focus is working with people who want to find the truth about family members.” She looked at him then, just a quick glance over her shoulder. “We can drop the cup off tomorrow when we go to Portland.”

  “You sound sure Emory will do it.”

  “She will.” Sam got out a small jar and brush. “She’s that kind of friend.”

  Yeah, Griff knew all about those kinds of friends. Stretch had been one for many years. There when Griff needed him most. And when Stretch needed Griff… He shoved that thought away and watched her dip the brush into the jar of black powder and swirl it over the side of the cup.

  “I couldn’t ask for more perfect prints.” Sounding hopeful, she took out the other fingerprint cards from the lock bar at the cannery. She squinted at them. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like a match to me, but I’ll get these off to my friend for an official comparison.”

  “I’d hoped we would’ve heard back from him on the other ones by now.”

  “Me, too. He’s probably swamped, but I’ll ask about them when I send these to him.” She grabbed a roll of tape and cut a piece to press it over the prints. And just like yesterday, she affixed the tape to a card and set it on her scanner.

  It whirred to life while she opened her laptop and typed an email. When she got up, she glanced at the wall clock. “I need to head home to get cleaned up for dinner. I’ll meet you at Gage’s place, okay?”

  He nodded and woke Pepper up. She jumped to her feet, baffled at first, then got excited just to see him. How he wished he would get the same look from Sam. He had. Once. In another place and time.

  He clipped on Pepper’s leash, and she danced even more.

  “Ah, the enthusiasm of a puppy.” Sam smiled.

  “Which is why I really think I should leave her at the cabin tonight.”

  Sam stepped into the main room. “Hannah said to bring her.”

  Pepper bolted toward the door, but her leash contained her, and she tried to drag Griff along. “See how excited she gets? Maybe Hannah was just being polite.”

  “It would be a good time to meet the kids and their dog Barkley while you’re still around. Leaving Pepper in the morning might be easier for her.”

  “Good point.”

  “Besides.” She grinned. “Once you get to know Hannah, you’ll learn she speaks her mind. If she didn’t want you to bring Pepper, she wouldn’t have invited her.”

  He doubted he’d be around long enough to really get to know Hannah or the other team members. He’d been in such a funk since Stretch that Griff was surprised to realize he actually would like to get to know these people better. He liked their team camaraderie and straightforward approach to things. They were his kind of people in so many ways.

  He followed Sam out of the building into misty rain and chilly temps. Sam lifted the hood on her jacket and bent her head forward. He suspected it was to keep dry but also a hint that she didn’t want to talk. No matter. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to talk about other than why she left him, and that was off limits, so they made the trip to his cabin in silence.

  “Remember to bring Pepper,” she said near his cabin and kept walking toward her own place.

  He waited for Pepper to do her business, then headed inside to shower and dress. He was ready before dinnertime, and he wasn’t about to show up early to the Blackwell’s house, so he played with Pepper, laughing at her antics. Eventually he tired her out, her big puppy eyes drooping, and her attempts at play halfhearted. She curled into a ball by the heat vent, and he listened to his phone messages.

  He returned several calls from his firefighting buddies wanting to get together outside of work, but ignored one from Tracie asking why Sam was back in his life. Tracie already knew they were working on finding Andy’s killer, but she liked to butt into his love life—or lack of one—and wanted to dig deeper. There was no way he would touch that conversation.

  He saw the time on his phone and got up. “Okay, Pepper, ready to go?”

  She hopped up, raring to take off after only thirty minutes of sleep. He put her leash on and grabbed a paper towel to wipe her wet paws when they got to the Blackwell’s house. No way he would let his little girl track in mud after their walk.

  At precisely six-thirty, he knocked on the Blackwell’s door, picked up Pepper, and scrubbed his baby girl’s paws with the towel.

  Gage soon opened the door and stepped back. “I heard you were bringing a guest, but man. She’s cuteness overload. I predict a lot of gushing any second now.”

  Sam and Hannah joined them. Sam had dressed in a powder blue sweater, skinny jeans and ankle boots. Her hair was down, and she looked soft and feminine. He stood gawking at h
er, wishing he could think of something to say other than you look amazing which he didn’t think would go over so well.

  Hannah gave him a quick knowing look before scooping Pepper out of his arms. “Look at you, precious. I’m going to love watching you.”

  Pepper licked Hannah’s face, and she giggled like a little girl. “Ooh, I love you already.”

  Gage smiled fondly at his wife. “Say hi to Griff, honey.”

  “Oh, hi, Griff. Welcome.” She didn’t look up but was rubbing her face against Pepper’s soft fur.

  “Bring a baby anything around here, and we cease to exist.” Gage’s smile widened, the fondness for his wife so evident. She looked up at him, her private smile filled with love.

  A bolt of jealousy hit Griff hard, but he also thought he detected something other than overwhelming happiness in Gage’s smile.

  Sam shot a look between the pair. “Is there something you two aren’t telling us?”

  A sheepish expression crossed Gage’s face, totally out of character for a SEAL. “Not sure what you mean.”

  Sam locked gazes with him. “Hannah. Is she expecting?”

  Hannah’s head shot up, and she looked horrified.

  Gage faced her. “I can’t lie to Sam.”

  “You’re pregnant?” Sam squealed.

  Hannah nodded.

  Sam rushed to her friend and threw her arms around her, sandwiching Pepper between them. “Why aren’t you telling anyone?”

  Hannah pulled back, and Pepper looked confused. “Kiera is due any day, and I don’t want to take any excitement away from her. So promise you won’t say anything.”

  Sam mimicked zipping her lips and turned to Gage. “Congratulations, boss.”

  “Thanks,” he said, beaming with happiness. “If it was up to me, everyone in the world would know, but…” He shrugged.

  Hannah smiled at her husband, and they seemed to go miles away into their own private world. How many times had Griff imagined sharing this very thing with Sam? He’d wanted to marry her and have children nearly from their first date.

  She looked at him. “Kiera’s married to Coop.”

  Griff nodded, but still couldn’t ignore the loss filling his gut.

  “Let’s introduce Pepper to the kids,” Hannah suddenly said and led the way to the family room.

  Sam turned to follow Hannah. Gage and Griff trailed the ladies into the room with a large fireplace, lit and blazing with an intensity that Griff admired. Sam had dropped down to the floor with a boy and girl who were busy petting Pepper. He guessed the kids ages at seven or eight.

  “Our kids,” Gage said. “Mia and David.”

  They didn’t look up at Griff, but why would they when they had a puppy licking their faces?

  “Why don’t we let Hannah and the kids spoil Pepper while we head to my office for a few minutes?” Gage pointed at a hallway. “After you.”

  Griff stepped off, and Sam nodded like he was some stranger passing through. He returned her greeting with a cordial nod of his own, but his gut was tight with disappointment.

  “I thought you two once dated,” Gage said, from behind.

  Griff thought he was safe from this topic with Gage, and didn’t want to talk about it, but wouldn’t be rude. “We did. A long time ago.”

  “I take it things didn’t end well.”

  “Not for me.”

  “Want to tell me what happened?”

  “Not really.”

  “Message received.” Gage circled a big desk and dropped into a tall leather chair.

  Griff looked around the room his eyes widening in appreciation over the high-priced electronic surveillance equipment on the shelves. “Business must be good.”

  “It is. We have more work than we can say yes to.”

  “I respect what you’re doing here.” Griff straddled a chair by the desk. “Giving everyone a second chance is a great thing. And you’re running a first-class operation.”

  “I’m the one who benefits. You know the work ethic of former military and law enforcement personnel. No harder working bunch. Or more talented.”

  “Makes a guy almost want to get injured.” Griff laughed.

  “Not the first time I’ve heard that.” Gage smiled. “You liking the firefighting gig?”

  “Yeah, man. It’s good. I’m also certified as a paramedic and rotate assignments so that keeps things interesting.”

  “How long you been doing it?”

  “Two years.”

  “Why’d you leave the teams?”

  And there was the question Griff knew would be lobbed into his court, but he wasn’t ready to talk about that yet so he shrugged. “Your reason for leaving?”

  “Had to.” He held up his arm. “Injury.”

  “On the job?”

  “Nah, a motorcycle accident.” Gage shook his head. “My first wife, Cassidy, died, and I went on a binger. Crashed my bike. A good thing in the long run.”

  “How so?” Griff asked trying not to sound surprised that anyone could be happy about a life-altering injury.

  “I was mad about losing Cass. Mia losing her mother.” He clenched and released his fingers. “All I wanted was to stay on the team and take my grief out on some faceless enemy.”

  Griff totally got that. Except for the days right after Stretch had died, Griff had only wanted to get as far away as possible from the place where his friend had lost his life.

  “The accident forced me to come home and take care of my daughter,” Gage said, fondness in his tone for his child.

  “It’s good you can look at it positively.” Griff wished he could look at his reason for leaving the same way.

  “I’m going to assume if Sam dated you that you’re a man of faith.”

  Griff nodded, but he had no idea what that had to do with this conversation.

  “When Cass died, I had a horrible attitude at first. Like I said. Binge drinking. Doing risky things.” Gage paused to frown, but surprisingly he didn’t seem distraught. “It was only after a lot of soul-searching that I realized God allowed what had happened. And instead of going to Him, I pushed Him away and concentrated on what I could do on my own.”

  “Yeah, I get that.” Griff stopped short of saying that’s exactly where he was at right now.

  “But when we trust ourselves more than God, we’re destined to fail.”

  His comment hit Griff like a mortar round to the chest. So simple, yet so profound. And so similar to the way Griff’s life was going lately. He was trusting only in himself and what he could do. Not listening to God at all. And failing. Big time. Sure he had a successful career as a firefighter, but he was avoiding all emotional entanglements. Even keeping his team at arm’s length. Is that really what he wanted for the rest of his life?

  “God sees things I can’t.” Gage leaned back in his chair. “And now that the team is going strong and Mia is thriving, God’s plan to bring good from tragedy is very clear.”

  Griff wished he could see the same thing, but not so much. “I’m not all that sure there’s good in me leaving.”

  Gage eyed him. “There’s always good.”

  “Maybe, but this is different. I screwed up. Had to leave.”

  Gage sat back, his head tilting. “How so?”

  Griff still didn’t want to discuss what happened to Stretch, but maybe if he laid it out there with a guy who could put himself in Griff’s place, he could find closure and move on with his life.

  He leaned back. Crossed his leg over his knee. Tried to act casual, but his heart was racing as he’d never talked about this before.

  Just take it one point at a time. Remove the emotions. Be factual.

  He took a breath and started. “After years on Bravo team, I’d finally taken command. It was a smooth transition until one op where my buddy Stretch was whining over a girl who dumped him. He kept falling behind in our mission. So I read him the riot act. Even quoted the creed. The part about being mentally stronger.”

  The sect
ion of the SEAL creed rushed through his head. I will never quit. I persevere and thrive on adversity. My Nation expects me to be physically harder and mentally stronger than my enemies. If knocked down, I will get back up, every time. I will draw on every remaining ounce of strength to protect my teammates and to accomplish our mission. I am never out of the fight.

  At the memory, Griff shook his head. “I told him to suck it up and do his job. To push through and have our backs.”

  “And?”

  “And an insurgent lobbed a grenade toward us. Landed about ten feet away. Stretch was at the back of the team. He took a quick look at us. Bolted and threw himself over it. Died on the spot.” The memory came rushing back like a video that often played in Griff’s head at night. His gut felt like he’d thrown himself on that grenade and tears threatened.

  But men didn’t cry. His dad and the navy drilled that into his head. He swallowed it down and raised his shoulders in military perfection. “If I hadn’t stopped to give Stretch an earful, we would’ve moved on and wouldn’t have been in throwing distance. And maybe he wouldn’t have felt a need to save the rest of us.”

  “Don’t,” Gage said sharply. “Don’t second-guess his decision. You’re disrespecting him by doing that.”

  Griff fired him a pointed look, but then thought about Gage’s comment. “You’re right. He did what we all would’ve done—give our lives to save others. But I’m the one at fault here, and I still can’t look the other guys in the eye. So I had to go.”

  Gage snapped his chair forward. “You did nothing wrong. You only reminded Stretch of what he already knew. How to do his job. And if you didn’t, the grenade might have taken him out anyway.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “But you’d rather feel guilty instead of facing the pain of loss.” Gage leaned closer. “I get it, man. I ran away from that when Cass died, but here’s the thing. Run all you want. God isn’t going to let you get away with it, and it’s going to catch up to you sooner or later. So why not deal with it now instead of putting yourself through all the pain?”

  Griff didn’t know how to answer. How could he ever forgive himself?

  “Look. Suffering is part of life. But we like to think life should be a bed of roses.” Gage came around the desk and sat on the corner. “I’ve met a lot of people in my life, but I’ve never met a strong person who hasn’t suffered. Who hasn’t had a difficult past? Look for what God might be teaching you. Grow and move on.”