by Leigh Bale
“Keep me apprised,” the Colonel said. “And don’t give up hope. I’ll do everything I can to help.”
“We appreciate it.”
“And the picture? What’s wrong with it?” The Colonel peered at the photo in his hand.
Again, Mac explained about the electronically altered photograph showing him and Eric posing with Lieutenant Andrus.
“I don’t know what to tell you about that.” The Colonel handed Mac the picture and removed his glasses, dangling them from his long fingers. “Maybe you should ask him about it. He’s here in Vegas.”
“Who is?”
“Lieutenant Andrus. You two men were the only survivors of the skirmish in Afghanistan. The military gave him a leave of absence, too. They figured both of you needed time to recuperate.”
“What?” Mac came to his feet, gritting against the jarring pain it caused his leg.
He was vaguely aware of Toni staring at the Colonel, her eyes wide with shock. Neither one of them could absorb this information fast enough.
“I thought Mac was the only man on his team who survived the ambush,” she said.
“So did I.” Mac gripped the glass top of the table with whitened knuckles. His mind whirled.
“Who told you that?” The Colonel’s eyes looked guarded.
Mac shook his head, trying to remember. “I think it was a doctor. I was fresh out of surgery and still groggy from medication. But Derek Hooper with the CIA confirmed it when he paid me a visit yesterday.”
Colonel Wilkinson snorted. “Just shows you how much the CIA knows. Lieutenant Andrus is alive. He survived without any injury.”
Mac sank back into his chair, stunned with disbelief. All this time, he’d believed he had been the only survivor of the ambush. That knowledge had done something to him. Changed him somehow. Left him feeling cynical and fatalistic. Like he should have died with his men.
Now, knowing another man made it out of there alive clicked on a light of hope inside of Mac.
“I’ve got to talk to Andrus. Maybe he knows something,” Mac said.
The Colonel nodded. “You should go see him. It might help both of you feel better if you talk about what happened. He has a house in North Las Vegas. I think it was his mother’s home before she died. I can give you the address.”
Mac clenched his hands to stop them from trembling. “I’d appreciate it.”
Toni reached over and squeezed his arm. He met her eyes, still reeling from what the Colonel had told them.
“Hooper insinuated that the CIA intercepted communications from someone on the inside giving the team’s landing position to the Taliban,” Mac said. “Toni accidentally overheard our conversation.”
“So, she knows about the ambush, then?”
Both Mac and Toni nodded.
Two frown lines creased the Colonel’s forehead. “Did Hooper indicate if the CIA has a suspect?”
Mac flashed a resentful glare. “Yes. Me.”
The Colonel shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Treason is a federal crime. The FBI has taken the lead on this investigation. They’ll work with NCIS to find out who might have caused the ambush.”
“Knowing Andrus also survived puts a new spin on things,” Mac said. “I think I’ll have a heart-to-heart chat with the man.”
The Colonel sat back in his chair. “Andrus is probably as innocent as you are, Mac. If you suspect he’s guilty of some crime, notify me and work through the proper channels. No matter what, be careful.”
They stood and Toni handed Mac his cane. She waited patiently until he had it firmly in hand, steady on his feet. Then, she walked inside the house and the Colonel lagged behind with Mac.
“How are you holding up on that other issue, Sergeant MacKenzie?” the Colonel whispered for Mac’s ears alone.
Mac tensed, staring at the French doors. “I’m fine, Colonel. It’s Toni and her family I’m worried about.”
The Colonel clasped Mac’s arm and pivoted to look him in the eyes. “What happened to Lieutenant Hamilton wasn’t your fault, Mac. Both you and I know it and a reports been filed saying so. NCIS will complete the investigation into Eric’s death, but I don’t anticipate much will come of it. You’ve got to let it go and get on with your life.”
Mac locked his jaw, his gaze following Toni as she stood inside talking with Gwynne. “I want to move on, but how do I tell Eric’s family the truth, Colonel? How do I explain what happened?”
“You don’t.”
Mac stared at his former commanding officer. “Are you suggesting I should never tell Toni the truth?”
The Colonel locked his jaw. “I am. What happens in battle should stay there. It’s not something we speak of to our women here on the home front. It hurts them too deeply. But you and I are warriors. You can withstand this, Sergeant. You’re stronger than you think.”
Mac looked away, surprised the Colonel would encourage him to keep such an important secret from Toni. He respected the Colonel’s opinion, but deep inside, he didn’t feel good about not telling Toni the truth. Until she knew everything, he didn’t think he could ever be completely free.
“It’ll get easier, Mac. I promise.”
Mac gave a hollow laugh. “Easier? How? Toni is a constant reminder of what I stole from her. I can’t live a life of deceit.”
“You didn’t steal anything. Even if you were responsible, it was still an accident. A casualty of war.”
Hearing Eric brushed off as a casualty of war didn’t make Mac feel any better.
“Any idea when the ballistics report will be completed?”
The Colonel shook his head. “Soon, I hope. Regardless of the results, it’s classified and you must not talk about it with anyone. No matter what. It won’t bring Eric Hamilton back.”
Right. But it still mattered. To Mac.
Listening to the Colonel, Mac felt skeptical. How could hiding the truth be a good thing? For the first time, Mac doubted the Colonel’s advice. A heavy gloom rested over Mac, like a blanket of storm clouds. A still small voice warned him that truth was the best policy. But the Uniform Code of Military Justice prohibited him from discussing the mission in Afghanistan. Mac knew what could happen if the media got hold of this. They ruined good people’s lives, slathering muck across newspapers and the TV without any concern for the havoc they created.
The Colonel regarded Toni through the glass pane of the French doors. “Give it some time. No one said being a marine was easy.”
What an understatement.
The Colonel clasped Mac’s arm. “Give me your cell number and I’ll call you as soon as I find out anything.”
Inside the house, Mac scribbled his number on a piece of paper and handed it to the Colonel. “I appreciate this, sir.”
“Any time.”
The Colonel accompanied them to the door. Mac glanced at Toni and found her watching him, a look of trust on her face. His feelings of dread seemed to lighten just by looking at her. He must not let her down.
Chapter Sixteen
There was something Mac wasn’t telling her. Something big.
At the Colonel’s house, Toni had noticed the men’s shared glances when they didn’t think she was looking. Then, while she’d chatted with Gwynne in the kitchen, they’d stayed outside and talked for several minutes, their expressions grim.
Sure, they could be discussing the ambush in Afghanistan, but Toni sensed something more. Something with the power to canker Mac’s soul.
While Mac drove them back into the city and headed toward North Las Vegas, she didn’t say much. A dark foreboding rested over her. Mac seemed distracted and filled with his own thoughts. When he looked at her, she saw something in his eyes. A sadness she previously believed was nothing more than grief. Now, she wondered if it were that simple. His hesitant glances, his reticence to talk about what had happened. The guarded look in his eyes seemed more like guilt.
Ah, she was being silly. Surely she imagined it. Mac had done nothing to be guilty of.
Or did he?
“Is something troubling you, Mac?”
He glanced at her, startled. “Why would you ask that?”
She cleared her throat. “You just seem deep in thought. Kind of distant and distracted. Is there anything you want to tell me?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it and waggled his eyebrows at her. “No, not now. But I’ll try to think of something for later.”
She laughed, wishing she dared rest her head on his shoulder. It seemed a natural thing to do.
As he placed both hands on the steering wheel, she peered at him. In spite of his reassurance, his eyes still looked troubled. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was keeping a secret from her.
“If you ever need to talk, you know I’ll be here,” she said.
His jaw hardened. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
The neighborhood where Lieutenant Andrus lived contrasted sharply with the Colonel’s lovely home. Here, shabby houses built seventy years earlier showed peeling paint and weathered roofs. Broken fences needed repair and obscene graffiti covered almost every available surface.
A frisson of apprehension scudded over Toni as Mac parked his truck out front of Lieutenant Andrus’s house. She didn’t want to stay longer than necessary.
“Mac, knowing Andrus survived the ambush, do you think we can trust him?”
“I don’t trust anyone right now, but I doubt Andrus would try anything. Besides, the Colonel knows we’re gonna pay him a visit.”
She peered out her window at the gray structure. Garbage, broken bottles and old tires littered the front yard. One window had been knocked out in front, patched with cardboard and duct tape. From her angle, she could see the screen door thrown wide, hanging on one hinge. She could only imagine what the inside looked like.
“You want to wait here while I go inside?” Mac asked as he killed the engine and pocketed his keys.
“And get mugged? Absolutely not. I’m going with you.”
He chuckled and got out of the truck. As they walked to the door, they skirted an empty milk carton and tin cans littering the sidewalk. Drawing near, Toni saw the front door to the house stood ajar. Dingy blue drapes had been pulled closed across the living room window, sagging in places where they missed some hooks on the curtain rod. Shadows clung to the covered porch. A feeling of gloom shrouded the entire house.
Mac pressed the doorbell, but no sound rang out. Instead, he rapped on the open door with his knuckles. “Hello! Ryan Andrus, you in here?”
No answer.
Mac pushed the door open with his cane. The stench of cat urine, filth and something rotten hit them like a wall in the face. Toni pinched her nose.
“What is that awful smell?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “Ryan Andrus, it’s Mac MacKenzie. Anybody home?”
Silence.
The narrow entranceway appeared too dim to see anything. Mac stepped inside, walking into the dark living room. Toni followed close behind.
“Maybe he’s out back,” Toni suggested.
“I’ll check.” Mac limped through the kitchen to the sliding glass doors. He turned on a light, illuminating a table and sinks filled with food crusted dishes and empty cans and cartons strewn on the floor.
Toni grimaced and her stomach rolled.
“Don’t fall,” she cautioned as he skirted sacks of newspapers and trash with his cane.
Alone, Toni looked around, unwilling to touch anything or sit on the soiled sofa and chairs. Drafts of sunlight fought their way through one murky window, highlighting dust motes in the air. Outside in the back yard, Mac called for Lieutenant Andrus.
Toni shuddered with revulsion. She wanted out of here. If they found Lieutenant Andrus, she planned to suggest they take him to a restaurant rather than talking here.
As she glanced about the living room, her gaze lit upon something shiny lying in the matted orange shag carpet near the hallway to the back bedrooms. Something familiar about the object drew her near before she bent and picked it up. As she studied it, a feeling of horror filled her and her heart skipped a beat.
“He’s not out back.” Mac spoke from the kitchen doorway. “From the looks of things, he hasn’t been here all day. I found the morning paper still lying in the driveway.” His gaze settled on the shiny object resting on her open palm. “What’s that?”
She took a shuddering breath, trying to control the hammering inside her head and the sick feeling in her stomach. “It’s Cara’s necklace.”
“What?” He reached to take the delicate silver chain and looked more closely at it.
“It belongs to Cara.” Toni stared at the charm dangling over his long fingers, her insides clenching.
“Where did you get this?”
She pointed at the carpet. “I…I found it there, lying on the floor. Cara was here, Mac. My sister’s been in this horrible house.”
Her knees wobbled and she could barely stand. With Mac following behind, she headed down the hallway, throwing open doors, calling for her sister. “Cara! Cara, are you here?”
“How can you be certain it’s Cara’s?” he asked.
Toni reached to her throat and withdrew a similar chain she kept tucked beneath the collar of her blouse. Except for the colors, the charms looked identical. A red rose surrounded by the spray of a rainbow.
Mac’s eyes widened. “Maybe someone bought the same thing. They mass-produce jewelry. It could be a coincidence.”
“No, remember my dad had these necklaces made special by a jeweler. He gave them to us the Christmas before he and Mom died.”
“Yeah, I remember, now.”
Distracted, she flipped the charm over and showed him the cursive flourish carved into the back. “Look, these are Cara’s initials. This necklace belongs to her.”
“But that would mean she’d been here.”
The ramifications washed over Toni in shattering waves. Was Lieutenant Andrus the kidnapper? Maybe Cara was here now. A blaze of hope pierced her heart.
“Cara! Cara, where are you?” Toni headed down the shadowed hallway, determined not to leave this house until she’d checked every corner, every nook and cranny.
The third room she came to, she thrust the door open. A putrid stench hit her hard. The stink of death.
Mac caught up to her as she stood in the doorway. Her head swam dizzily and nausea clawed her throat. Reeling with revulsion, she opened her mouth and screamed.
Chapter Seventeen
Toni turned into Mac’s arms, hiding her face against his shoulder. “Oh, Mac! It’s so horrible.”
Lieutenant Ryan Andrus lay across the bed fully dressed except for his bare feet. His body reclined against several pillows. A book rested beside him on the rumpled sheets. His wide eyes stared at them, as if he’d been taken by surprise. A thatch of red hair lay across his forehead, almost covering a small bullet hole. A trickle of blood showed where he’d been shot, but Mac couldn’t see a gun. From the angle of the wound, he didn’t think this was a suicide.
“He’s the freckled man from Clarkston, isn’t he?” Toni’s words sounded muffled against his shirt.
Dawning flooded Mac as he stared at Andrus. “Yes, I think you’re right.”
Viola Bigby had told them a freckled man had accompanied the ponytail man and used the telephone in the General Store. Because he didn’t know Andrus well and thought the man had died in Afghanistan, Mac hadn’t made the connection.
“This was no accident. We’re getting out of here.” Mac wasn’t taking chances with Toni’s life.
“But Cara might still be in here.” Toni moved toward the door.
He caught her hand and pulled her back. “Toni, take my word for it, she may have been here earlier, but she’s not here now.”
“How do you know?”
He realized she wouldn’t budge until he explained. “I checked the basement. I found an empty cell with bars. It’s been used recently.”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened
with horror and she clasped a hand to her mouth. “Mac, what have they done with my sister? Where have they taken her? Who has her?”
“Don’t panic. Let’s go.” Mac led Toni down the hall and out into the sunlight.
They gulped fresh air into their lungs. The shattered look in Toni’s eyes was more than he could stand. How he wished she hadn’t seen Andrus dead.
Without willing himself to, he prayed silently for Cara’s safety.
Please, God, she’s just an innocent child. If you have to take someone, then take me. But not Cara.
And then, Mac realized what he’d tried so hard to deny. He still believed in God, but he was angry. Livid at God for allowing Eric to die. Furious that he’d survived.
“Mac, where’s Cara? I’ve got to find her.” Toni could hardly speak around the sobs wrenching her throat.
“Shh, it’ll be okay. Take deep breaths.” He helped her into his truck and handed her a tissue, then held her close, their fingers entwined.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” she croaked.
Neither did he. Obviously Ryan Andrus had something to do with Cara’s disappearance. But who had killed Andrus? And why?
Mac flipped open his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1 to report the murder, then he called Colonel Wilkinson. Within ten minutes, the whine of police sirens and an ambulance blared along the street. The Colonel followed minutes later, accompanied by several NCIS agents, one dressed in plain clothes, the others dressed in black shirts. Mac and Toni got out of his truck to greet them. Neighbors came out of their houses, standing in their yards, craning their necks to see what was going on.
Agents and the coroner swarmed the house. While Mac explained what they’d found, Toni stood beside him, her face ashen. He kept one arm wrapped around her back, offering silent support. Feeling protective of her.
The Colonel and a homicide officer joined them. Dressed in a suit and tie, the officer introduced himself as Agent Miller. “You’re gonna have to come down to our office. We’ll need a written statement from both of you.”
