Standing Fast

by Maggie K. Black

  “Not bad,” Chase said honestly. “Not as good as I’d have liked or of the level that would’ve been expected if I’d been able to continue training Queenie with the team. But we’ve been doing some basic drills at home every day.”

  Westley nodded. “Good to hear it. The more consistency you’re able to instill, the easier time Queenie will have reintegrating with the team.”

  Chase could only hope that he and Queenie would still be partners when that happened and that lingering suspicion—or, worse yet, charges being filed for crimes he’d never even dreamed of committing—wouldn’t mean she was assigned to someone else.

  “Why don’t you unleash her and let her socialize?” Westley added. “Being around the other dogs will help with her reintegration too.”

  It was a good idea. He bent down and unclipped Queenie from her lead. Her nose nuzzled his hand. Her huge brown eyes looked up into his, then, tail wagging, she ran off after the other dogs. He stopped and watched as his small dog disappeared into a cluster of bigger canines, feeling oddly like a father sending his child off to play. Then his eyes ran over to where Allie and Freddy were happily piling plates with food under Zoe’s watchful eye.

  Had he been too hasty to pull Allie from Sunny Seeds? Would she miss the other kids? All he wanted was to protect her.

  “How is she doing?” Maisy’s soft voice seemed to brush over the back of his neck like a cool breeze.

  He turned toward her and realized that Westley had stepped back to join Linc by the barbecue, leaving them alone.

  “It hasn’t been the easiest afternoon,” he admitted. “But, hey, she’s a strong kid. How was the rest of your day? I’m really glad to see your friends have your back.”

  “My afternoon was probably about as hard as one could be. Security Forces stayed at Sunny Seeds all day. Most parents came to pick up their kids early, and they all had a lot of questions about what had happened. But being out with friends tonight helps.” Maisy glanced back over her shoulder to the people now gathered around the back porch and yard, all of whom seemed to be doing an excellent job of watching them without actually letting it look like they were watching. Did any of them believe he was innocent? Did some of them think that by bringing him in closer they’d trip him up and find evidence?

  “We’ve all become a lot closer, in a way, since Boyd broke out of jail and...” She left the sentence unfinished as a deep sadness filled the depths of her eyes. And killed several people, including her own father. She blinked back tears. “It brought some of us together in a tighter knit family. But all across the base I see it tearing other people and relationships apart. The fear. The suspicion. The way people have stopped saying howdy to strangers and started giving each other the stink eye. It’s like Boyd doesn’t have to be literally on base killing people for him to cause destruction.”

  Yeah, he knew what she meant. Even if he didn’t know how to explain it himself.

  “I don’t know how to put this into words,” he said. “But it’s like Allie has somehow grown younger since the morning Boyd Sullivan broke onto base. She cries more. She babbles and has more tantrums, not to mention more nightmares about ‘hurt man’ and ‘bad man.’ There was a lot of mess to clean up in the house today and she was pretty agitated.” He twisted Queenie’s leash, wrapping it around his hand like a fighter preparing for a bout against an unknown enemy. “There are moments when she’s so grown up she’s like a little girl. Then other times, when she’s upset, it’s almost like she’s still a baby.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Maisy said. He felt her hand brush his sleeve. Her bright blue eyes met his, so dark in the center and filled with far more compassion and understanding than he had any right to hope to see. “She’s dealing with a lot. But she’s resilient. She’ll bounce back. Playing with Freddy tonight should help. We just all need to hold on until life gets back to normal.” Something caught in her throat as she said the word normal.

  Suddenly, he found himself turning toward her and taking both of her hands in his.

  “Look, I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” he told her. “I owe you an apology. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I thought Sunny Seeds was unsafe or that Allie would be better off without you. I was frustrated. I was worried. My daughter had just been grabbed and almost abducted. I saw the Security Forces surrounding Sunny Seeds, and I was worried that I was bringing danger into your life. But I know there’s no place better for Allie than Sunny Seeds, and nobody better for her to be spending time with than you. I just don’t know who I can trust anymore.”

  “You can trust Justin Blackwood.” Her hands squeezed his tightly. “My father liked him, a lot.”

  He wanted to believe his investigation was in the hands of someone trustworthy and honest, who’d follow the evidence all the way to the end and until it cleared his name. “But how well do you know him?”

  “Better than I know you.”

  * * *

  She watched as he rocked back on his heels. What had he expected? That she was on his side? That she would somehow be his ally? No, she was on the side of the truth. She wanted her father’s killer to be stopped. She just wanted justice to be done.

  Chase still hadn’t spoken. She felt her mind fill with the memory of Preston leaning over her shoulder as she sat at her desk at Sunny Seeds and pulled up the security footage.

  “The so-called kidnapper was probably a girlfriend or his ex-wife,” Preston had said. “A man like Chase uses women. Just like he used you today.”

  “Hey, Maisy! We’ve got Frank! He’s live!” At the sound of Ava’s voice calling from the patio, she turned. Ava, Isaac, Linc, Zoe, Westley and Felicity were all gathered around a laptop set up on the middle of the picnic table. Ava waved her over.

  Maisy turned back to Chase. “I’m sorry, one of our friends serving in Afghanistan has a birthday today. So we thought we’d set up a group call.”

  “Frank Golosky?” he asked. A slight and tired smile crossed his lips.

  “Yes,” she said. “Do you know him?”

  “We were in the same Bible study when I served overseas. He’s a really great guy. One of the best.”

  Chase was right. Frank was a really good man. More important, he was someone whose opinion Maisy trusted. What was Frank’s opinion of Chase? she wondered.

  “He’s great,” she said. “We were hoping his brother, Drew, would join us tonight. But apparently he’s on leave for a few days and didn’t return Zoe’s calls. He’s not exactly that reliable.”

  Linc was holding the laptop up high as if trying to find a spot where everyone could see Frank’s laid-back grin and he could see everyone. She scanned the yard. Allie and Freddy were sitting in the pop-up tent, eating hot dogs and potato chips.

  “Why don’t you come say hi to him?” she suggested. “I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.” And she’d get to see what Frank thought of Chase.

  She turned and walked over to the group, tugging on his arm slightly to get Chase to follow her. Happy small talk surrounded the group, although she got the impression that Frank was somewhere between amused and frustrated that his brother, Drew, hadn’t shown. Then Frank’s eyes met hers through the screen. “Hey, Maisy! Glad to see you made this shindig too. How’s life been treating you?”

  There was a softness in Frank’s voice when he asked the question, and it was a tone she was so used to. Some days it felt like everyone had collectively decided that from now on she’d be treated like she was fragile and delicate. People rarely came out and openly asked about her actual grief. No, that was a hidden thing, like the bloody cross under the floorboards of Chase’s home that nobody dared pry out. Instead, they tap danced above her pain, in a kind, gentle and loving way, as if they were afraid of hurting her.

  Except Chase. He didn’t talk to her like a victim. He actually told her what he thought. Maybe because he knew what it was
like to be on the outside too.

  “I’m good,” she told Frank. “There’s someone else here who says he knows you.”

  She waved Chase forward. Frank’s wide beaming smile told her everything she’d wanted to know.

  “Well, my man McLear! How are you, buddy?” Frank chuckled, leaning forward.

  Chase set Queenie’s leash down on the porch railing and raised a hand in greeting. “Hey, Golosky! Happy birthday! It’s good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you too!” Frank leaned back, crossed his arms and nodded to the other people around her. “This guy here led the best Bible studies. Bar none. He’d spend hours researching and planning them. Whenever I showed up and he was in charge, I knew we’d be in for some heavy-duty thinking. How’s it going, man?”

  An awkward pause spread through the group gathered in the backyard, as if everyone was collectively holding their breath to see what he’d say.

  “Not great, to be honest,” Chase said. “Though it could always be worse. I can fill you in more another time, on a private chat. But quickly, have you seen Ajay Joseph recently? It would really help if I could talk to him.”

  Frank’s smile dimmed. “Nah, I haven’t. Sorry, man. I heard his father was sick, so he went home to his village to be with his family.”

  Chase blew out a long breath. “That’s what I heard too.”

  A happy bark sounded through the video call.

  “Beacon!” Isaac leaned forward, a smile exploding across his face as a beautiful gold-and-black German shepherd leaped into view.

  “Yeah.” Frank ran his hand over the dog’s shaggy fur. “I figured you’d want to see him.”

  Conversation around the patio shifted to talk about how the dog was doing. Beacon had been partnered with a close friend of Isaac’s who’d died in a plane crash in Afghanistan and had recently been lured back to base by one of his former unit members. From what Maisy could gather the dog’s retraining wasn’t going well. Chase stepped back down the porch steps and disappeared into the darkness behind her. She couldn’t tell if it was because he was disappointed about not being able to reach his buddy Ajay or if something about hearing the other K-9 officers talk about Beacon’s retraining bothered him. Either way, she felt herself turning and following him down the porch steps, as if joined by an invisible thread.

  She trailed him down the yard, away from her friends and the safety of the porch light, past the tent, where Chase popped his head in quickly to wave at Allie, and then through the happy mass of barking dogs and wagging tails, where Maisy lowered her hands to feel the soft noses greet her as she went. Finally, he reached a thick log at the very end of the yard, against the backyard fence, its wood worn as if people had been using it to sit and think for ages.

  Chase settled down onto the log, propped his elbows up on his long legs and dropped his head into his hands. His shoulders rolled forward, as if his back was on the verge of collapsing under an invisible weight, and something about it wrenched at her heart in a way that she didn’t know how to put into words. Then he looked up. His eyes met hers. The gentle yellow glow of a streetlight on the sidewalk behind the fence fell over the strong lines of his jaw. Sadness washed over his features. She sat down beside him and suddenly she found herself blurting out the one thing she’d wanted to tell someone but hadn’t known how.

  “I’m tired of people asking me if I’m okay,” she said. “I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay in a long time. I don’t know when I’m ever going to feel okay again. My father is dead, Chase. Some horrible person murdered him.”

  And you’re accused of helping him...

  He ran his hand over his head.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have interrupted your party. I don’t belong here.”

  “I asked you to join us,” she pointed out. “Because we need to talk.”

  About so many different things, she didn’t know where to start. She hated how they’d left things at Sunny Seeds. She wanted to tell him about what she’d seen on the security footage. She wanted to yell at him about how he could possibly be so clueless about how her father’s cross had ended up in his home, and admit that she didn’t know whether or not to believe him. She also wanted to hug him, even though she wasn’t sure why and was pretty sure she shouldn’t.

  “I know you deserve an explanation,” he said. Raw emotion pushed through his voice. “For all of this. But I don’t have one.”

  “I saw the security footage, Chase,” she said. “It was too grainy to make out the face of Allie’s kidnapper. But they were definitely after her. They lurked there for a while, as other kids came by the fence. There were easier targets. But they waited to grab her.”

  He ran his hand over his face as if trying to wipe the image from his mind. “They wanted my child. Specifically, my child.”

  Preston’s warning that Chase knew Allie’s abductor clattered in her mind.

  “Preston Flannigan told me that statistically you knew whoever kidnapped Allie,” she said. “That it was likely her mother or someone you’re in a romantic relationship with—”

  “Her mother gave up the rights to her the day the DNA test proved she was my child!” Chase’s jaw tightened. “I don’t have any romantic relationships. And I don’t much care what Preston Flannigan thinks of me.”

  Something dark flashed in his eyes, warning her to drop it. But how could she?

  “Who’s Ajay Joseph?” she pressed. “Why is it so important you talk to him?”

  “He’s my alibi for the morning Boyd Sullivan broke out of jail and sneaked onto base,” Chase said. “He’s an Afghan local who was working as a contractor over there. He was a middleman between the United States Air Force and a group of locals on the ground who we were helping supply weapons and aid to. We were friends. We studied the Bible together and he was very new in his Christian faith. We’d talk sometimes after I moved back, and he’d call for advice. He called for advice shortly after four in the morning on April 1 because—and I need you to keep this between you and me—he’d noticed a few things missing from a warehouse manifest and suspected one of the locals might be selling things on the black market. We talked until I got the call that the Red Rose Killer was on base, that people had been killed and dogs were loose. It was pandemonium.”

  She felt her face pale. Yes, she remembered.

  “We hadn’t heard about your father at that point,” he said. “But it was all hands on deck. I got off the phone and found my daughter was already up, and Ajay had ended the call. I’m guessing the sound of the dogs barking, the phone call and the chaos on base woke her up. I strapped her into a backpack carrier, put the leash on Queenie and we went out and helped round up dogs. Later, I emailed to apologize for cutting him off so suddenly and he emailed some encrypted files I promised to look at. He didn’t want to wreck some guy’s life without proof. The next email I got from him told me that he was going to visit his family in the mountains for a while. I figured he wanted a break away from base to think and pray.”

  “But you still have his files and a video log of the call,” she said.

  “My laptop was stolen from my truck shortly afterward,” he said. “Whoever did it also got my gym bag full of dirty clothes and my toolbox—so everything needed to frame me of a crime.”

  But it still didn’t explain her father’s cross. She didn’t answer and he didn’t say anything more. Instead, they just sat there, side by side, their shoulders barely an inch away from touching, and their breaths rising and falling in rhythm together. He turned to her and she felt her breath tighten in her chest under the weight of the unspoken words in his eyes.

  What was wrong with her? How could she be so attracted to a man who’d been accused of something so terrible? How could she crave the safety of being inside the strong arms of a man who, if not guilty, was at least being targeted by criminals? Yvette, the base nutrition
ist, had told her once that there was an eighty-to-twenty ratio of men to women on the base.

  Why was this one man the only one to ever tug at her heartstrings this way?

  Crush was such a silly, childish word to describe a full-grown and independent woman’s feelings for a man. Yet, as she felt the heaviness of the emotions she’d never act on weighing down on her heart and suffocating her breath from her chest, she couldn’t think of a better word for it.

  “Maisy?” Chase said softly. His fingers brushed the back of her hand, like he wanted to take it but wasn’t about to let himself do it. “I’m sorry for all of this. You deserve so much better than what I’m putting you through right now, and I wish...” His voice suddenly faded, leaving the thought unfinished. He swallowed hard. Then he sat back. “Never mind.”

  She grabbed his hand and squeezed it, even as he tried to pull it away. “Tell me. Please, Chase. What do you wish?”

  The electronic chime of a cell phone alert sounded so close behind them it was like it was coming from the fence itself. Chase dropped her hand. They jumped to their feet, coming eye to eye with a dark figure in a hoodie and bandanna on the other side of the fence.

  “Stop!” Chase said. “Right there!”

  The figure turned and fled.

  SIX

  “Stay here!” Chase ordered. “Get Allie inside. Keep her safe!”

  Then he ran down the yard, back toward the gate. He whistled sharply. Within a second, the small beagle was by his side. Man and dog burst through the gate. It clattered behind them.

  Maisy turned, a prayer on her lips, and ran back to the house. She’d barely taken five steps before Ava, Westley, Linc and Isaac rushed up to her. Felicity was standing on the porch. She didn’t see Zoe or the children.