"Okay, dear," Gran replied. "Everything is ready to go."
Freesia gave Rudy a rub on the neck and said, "I owe you an extra doggie treat, girl."
Rudy licked Freesia's chin and shoved past her to be first out. When she opened the door, Rudy went in the direction of the birch tree while Freesia headed for the woodshed. Granddad had stocked up the woodpile inside, so she was positive he wouldn't need to come back out that night for logs. She found a low spot in the pile, shoved the box in with the face towel squashed beside it and covered it all up with a tarp. She figured piling a few logs on top of it would camouflage it even more.
All of this mystery-solving junk is really exhausting. But I'm going to figure out what's in that box before Cuaco does.
She felt a cold wetness in her palm and looked down to see Rudy's nose.
"Let's get inside before Gran comes looking for us."
She flicked a look at her hiding spot and guided Rudy back inside.
"Freesy, honey, is something wrong?" Gran asked, not taking her eyes off of her chopping.
They were having vegetable lentil soup with cheesy corn bread for supper. It was supposed to rain for the next couple of days. Gran had said soup seemed like the best choice.
"No. Why?"
"Because you've shredded enough cheese there to feed a small army." Gran scraped the carrots off the cutting board into the stockpot with the celery and onions.
Freesia looked down at the mountain of cheese in front of her and clicked her tongue. "Oh, Gran. I'm so sorry. I guess I wasn't paying attention."
Gran handed her a freezer bag and patted her back. "No worries about the cheese. We can save that. You looked like you were lost in your thoughts. Something on your mind?"
"More than I'd like there to be."
"Well, if it's about what we were all talking about earlier—"
"No, it isn't just about that. It's just, well, everything. Every time I find something out, something else pops up that I wished I didn't know about, you know? It sucks. And I really miss Mom."
Gran put her arm around Freesia's shoulders. "I do too, sweatpea." She stroked Freesia's hair. "There hasn't been a day that's gone by that my heart hasn't ached for her. Every time I look at you two girls, I can see her in your faces. It hurts, doesn't it?"
Freesia turned her face into Gran's chest and nodded.
"I know. But you're a strong girl, both of you girls are. You get that from your parents. Your daddy was a brave man going out in the field, putting his life in danger to make peace. And your mama, well, she was doing the same thing back here. They were both amazing people, Freesy, doing so much for others. And they loved you and Sagey more than their own lives. No matter what you hear from all the investigations, don't you forget that."
"I won't," she whispered. Freesia pulled away from Gran, wiping tears away before they fell down her cheeks. "Well, whatever bad things have happened, one good thing has come out of it. Sage is trying to communicate more." She managed to fit most of the cheese mountain into the freezer bag, leaving just enough for the corn bread.
She told me what she saw. And now I'm going to make sure the guy who did all of this pays for everything he's done to us.
By the time dinner was over and the dishes were washed up, the sky reflected the mood in the Freisen's cabin. Dark gray, haunting clouds rolled in with the rising winds, making it appear much later than it actually was. The wind swirled waves in the lake like a blender spinning up a frozen treat.
"I'm going to meet Rick." Freesia pulled on her rain jacket.
Granddad looked out the front windows, rubbing his face with his palm. "Looks like a real storm brewing out there. I don't think I want you going out too far from home. And no boat rides, right? Go down on the dock—his or ours—but nowhere else. When this hits, I want you close enough to get back inside."
Freesia wasn't going to argue, risking not being able to go out at all. "Okay. We'll go downstairs."
"And you'd better get back up here by curfew or when it starts raining, whatever happens first. One minute later and I'll send Gran after ya." Granddad adjusted his splint-covered leg on the stool in front of him. "Can't wait for this damn thing to come off."
"Where's Rudy?" Freesia asked before leaving.
"Under our bed cowering in fear," Granddad answered. He had finally gotten his leg in the right spot. "Where else would the old girl be when a storm is happening?"
Freesia released a weak laugh and went outside to meet Rick. The wind was stronger than it looked from the window. She tugged her hood over her head and pulled the strings up so it wouldn't blow off. Dark clouds swirled above her like a tornado in the sky. Just as she was about to turn around toward the step, she felt hands grabbing her upper arms from behind.
"Boo!" Rick gave her a quick kiss while she recovered from the scare.
"You jerk." She gave him a playful bop on his chest. "You startled me. Don't do things like that to me, especially on nights like this."
And when others are doing the same thing to me lately.
He laughed and slipped the fingers of one hand among hers. "Not exactly the most ideal background for a date, but it's better than not getting to see you. I've missed hanging out with you."
A small smile tugged up her lips. "Me too. Look, I'm not allowed to go too far because of the storm. Granddad said I could go down to the dock."
"Okay, let's go." He started walking around the cabin to the Stairs of Doom.
"Hang on a sec." She pulled his hand back as they walked past the shed. "I have to grab something."
She tossed the logs up on the pile, pulled back the tarp and was relieved to see the shiny box and face towel were still where she'd put them earlier.
Rick frowned. "What's all that?"
Freesia picked the box up by its handle with one hand, shoved the face towel in her pocket and grabbed Rick's hand with the other. "I'll tell you downstairs. Let's go."
The wind seemed stronger closer to the water. It wasn't cold, just blustery and even though the rain hadn't started yet, a mist blew off the lake as waves crashed over the docks. It couldn't have been any later than seven-thirty at that point, but the haunting clouds made it feel like it was closer to midnight.
"We can't sit out here," Rick yelled. "The water is covering your entire small dock and halfway up the big one. And ours are pretty soaked too."
He pointed to their docks. It was a good thing he put his boat away when he got home from work.
She squinted against the wind and water droplets assaulting her face. "Let's see if our boathouse is open."
Rick's eyebrows rose. "Your Granddad would be okay with us going into the boathouse alone? There are bunk beds in there."
Freesia doubled over with laughter. "They aren't going to suck us into them. And there is a table and benches in there, remember? It'll be okay."
Still holding hands, they sidled across the board bridging the two docks, waves washing into the channel almost touching the bottom of the board, and rushed to the boathouse door. When they rushed around the corner, Mizu was standing there, waiting.
Freesia screamed.
Rick let go of her hand and threw his arms around her. The force of being pulled back almost made her lose her grip on the file box.
Freesia cursed under her breath and shoved Mizu's shoulder. "You have to stop doing that. You could give someone a freakin' heart attack sneaking up like that."
Mizu raised an eyebrow. "I didn't even pop out of the bushes this time. I came down the steps. Geez! Why are you so jumpy?"
Freesia rolled her eyes and looked back over her shoulder at Rick, who was having a tough time repressing his laughter.
"Just forget it. Everyone cross your fingers that Granddad left the door unlocked."
She turned the knob, bumping the door with her shoulder, and it opened. Waving everyone inside, she slammed the door and put the file box on the table.
Tugging her hood off and unzipping her jacket, Freesia said to
Mizu,"You aren't even wearing a jacket. Don't you care about getting soaked?"
"Not really. I like the rain. Besides, we aren't made of sugar, right?"
That's what Granddad always says. Freesia shuddered and chose to ignore her. "All right, look. I'm pretty sure this storm is going to take over pretty soon. As soon as it hits, I'll have to go in. So let's get started."
Freesia gave a brief rundown about what had happened earlier in the day, including what Detective Cuaco, Bob and Len had told her about the videotape.
"I knew my dad was seeing someone, a therapist, for whatever he was going through. But I didn't know it was your mom," Rick said. "Why would they have sessions out here?"
Freesia shrugged. "I have no idea. Granddad said that sometimes my mom met clients wherever they felt comfortable. They gave her a room at the base to meet with clients. Some of her clients didn't like having sessions over there so she met them on mutual ground, I guess. I remember I had to mark things like that in files."
Rick leaned forward. "You worked on her files? That must have been weird."
"Not really. It made me feel closer to her. You know, being a part of the work she loved so much. But there were some files I wasn't allowed to work on. She said they were 'too close.' I finally figured out today why. Three of the files were Bob's, Len's and your dad's. And I think they're in this box."
"So? Open it!" Mizu hugged herself. "What? Are you trying to create some kind of dramatic effect here or something?"
Freesia squinted. "Uh…no. I'd love to open it, but as you can see, there's a combination lock on it. And without the combination, it's kinda hard to open it, you know? I thought you guys might have ideas on how to get into it."
Rick handled the box, turning it around, and fidgeted with the lock. Then shrugged.
Mizu released a deep sigh and rolled her eyes. "Here, I think I can help." She dug through her canvas bag and pulled out a nail file.
"Wonderful idea!" Freesia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I wished I'd thought of that. But, as you can see, it's a combination lock. Not easy to pick into."
Mizu tossed her bag beside her on the cushioned bench and stood up. She sauntered up to the other two, who were seated at the table and benches, and stopped in front of Freesia, her hands on her hips.
"Wow. I can't believe someone who managed to get this box out of the house without her eagle-eyed grandparents seeing couldn't figure this out on her own." Mizu grabbed the box and spun it around so the back of it faced Freesia. "You aren't going to pick the lock, you doofus. You have to think like a cop. That detective guy doesn't need the stupid combination to break in here and neither do you. You're going to go in from behind."
She handed the nail file to Freesia and folded her arms. Freesia looked up at the Goth girl, snatched the file and unscrewed the tiny screws in the hinges that attached the lid to the main part. After getting all eight screws out, she put them in an amoeba-shaped ashtray on the table and dropped the nail file beside it.
Mizu gave Freesia a half smile, grabbed the file and sauntered back over to the bench she'd been sitting on, shoving the file back in her bag. "All right. So, dig in."
Freesia paused, her heart throbbing against her rib cage. Her hands were ice cold. She was positive that whatever was in the box would change everything and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle it.
Her anxiety must have been obvious, because Mizu said, "No matter what's in there, you need to know. Just do it."
She glanced at Mizu, who seemed close to tears. She was biting her thumbnail and staring at the wall.
Freesia looked back at Rick, who nodded at her. She flipped the lid open on the file box and found five files, a long, handwritten report of some kind and a small tape recorder.
She swallowed hard and took the stack of files out first. There were three names she recognized right off the bat. She knew they'd be in there. Len Patterson, Robert Harper and Frank Oakley. There was also a file for someone whose name she'd never heard of named Mateo Santiago.
Finally she flipped to the last file and gasped. "I can't believe this. Detective Cuaco was seeing my mom too."
Mizu nodded. "Interesting. What was he going to see her for?"
Freesia scanned over the information sheet in the front of the file. It was a form that was stapled into each file when it was opened that gave name, address, condition and medications. "At first, it says that he was sent to her for an evaluation for his vulnerability to post traumatic stress disorder. It was part of a mandatory psychological preparation thing for a mission in Afghanistan."
Freesia paused to read. "My mom cleared him to go, but then he was sent back to her when he returned with an actual diagnosis of PTSD. She said it resulted from a highly stressful event he'd experienced overseas. He was put on stress leave from his job until my mom cleared him for PTSD."
Rick leaned forward and slid his dad's file closer to him. "That's what my dad was seeing her for too, except his treatment kept going on because he wasn't getting better."
"Do you want to read his file first?"
"Part of me does. I'd really like to understand what's going on with him. I'm just not sure I want to read this."
"I understand."
Part of her didn't want to read any of the files. Something in the pit of her stomach told her that whatever was inside those files would lead them exactly where she needed to go next. And maybe she'd finally figure out what happened to her mom.
"Um, can I make a suggestion here?" Mizu said, still staring at the wall. "Why don't you start with that written report and go from there?"
Freesia frowned at Mizu. Instead of asking her why, she reached for the stack of paper held together with a white paper clip. Her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the handwriting of the report on top. "My dad wrote this."
"What is it?" Rick moved beside Freesia.
She slid the paper clip off and starting skimming the report. "It sounds like a witness statement. And all of these guys are in it."
"Well, read it," Mizu and Rick said in unison.
The first part of the report was difficult to understand because it was all military acronyms and lingo. Just because Freesia was part of a military family didn't mean she tuned into all the work chat. It went right over her head.
She stopped at a part that made her blood run cold.
"What's wrong?" Rick asked.
"Listen to this." She took a breath. "We arrived at the camp where Corporal Santiago, Lieutenant Patterson and Captains Oakley, Parson and Cuaco were being held captive. The perpetrators were a small group, but very heavily armed with automatic weaponry and light explosives. We managed to get close enough to the main hut where we believed our men were being held. After hearing screaming from the hut, then multiple gunshots, our team stormed in."
She paused, her pulse thundering through her veins, and then continued. "The man we assumed to be the leader held his weapon to my forehead, yelling in Dari, and said, 'Throw down your weapons, or I'll do the same to you as to your comrade.' When I refused, he told his five men to arm and I took the action of firing first. I fired a shot at the leader, which made a direct hit in his head. He died instantly and his followers stood down soon after—"
Freesia rested her forehead on her fists, fighting tears. She wondered why on earth would her dad want to keep going back there after that? She skipped a few more paragraphs then read aloud again:
"I ordered my group to secure the immediate area and take the other perpetrators back to our truck, with the additional order to send the medic van for the leader I'd shot and Corporal Santiago's body. His torso was on its side, his head severed from his body. His arms were tied behind his back with wire and he was in nothing but his underwear. He appeared to have multiple burn marks, cuts, bruises and other open wounds over his entire body."
Freesia stopped, grabbing a Kleenex from the box under the window. Rick put his hand on her forearm. "Go on. It's okay."
She nodded, then
finished. "The other captured men appeared to be untouched, with the exception of minor facial bruising. All seemed dehydrated and in various levels of shock. Captain Oakley was completely inconsolable and needed to be restrained and given a light sedative from the medics in order to remove him from the site."
She paused, swallowing, and looked up at Rick. "The rest just talks about how they took everyone back to the base camp and waited to be able to come back to Canada."
Rick slumped back, his head hitting the wall with a light thunk. No one spoke for several minutes. The waves crashed up to the base of the boathouse. Thunder grumbled its bass tone in the distance. The trees outside the window scratched against the aluminum siding of the boathouse. Huge splats of rain pelted the windows, bringing everyone out of their trances.
Rick sat back up. "What's the date on that report?"
Freesia flipped back through the report to the first page. Her eyes widened. "Wednesday, March 3, 2009. Oh my God. That's when all of this started. That's when my dad started accepting every mission overseas he could. And when my mom started spending even more time on the base."
Rick leaned forward, pulling his father's file closer to him again. "My dad starting getting counseling at the beginning of April." He breathed in deeply and opened the file. "Yep. My dad was also evaluated before going on that mission. In his file your mom said she was concerned he'd be a risk for PTSD because he was already coping with severe depression and anxiety."
Freesia opened the rest of the files to the information pages. All five men were pre-evaluated and cleared to go on the mission. Corporal Santiago's file was marked as closed on March 5. She put his file back into the box. Each file contained a witness report, detailing the events that happened before her dad rescued them. Each report was basically the same, but through different eyes, the most vivid and emotional ones being Frank's.
Freesia fought a wave of nausea.
"It was like a peace mission gone wrong," she said. "They were captured when they were checking out one of the villages. These guys were the hardcore Taliban guys we always hear about on the news. They saw the camouflage uniforms and saw red, I guess. And the horrible things they did to Corporal Santiago right in front of the other guys. I can't even imagine."
Dark Water Page 13
