by Leigh Bale
“Okay,” Mac agreed. “Whatever we can do to help.”
Two men dressed in white smocks wheeled a gurney out into the yard. Toni stared at the zipped body bag, then bit her lip and pressed closer to Mac’s side. As she clutched his arm, he heard her faint groan of despair.
“I’d like to get Miss Hamilton out of here, if that’s okay,” he told the men.
“Sure, follow me. I’ll have a car take you to our office. You can come back later to pick up your truck. It’d help if the Colonel comes along, too.”
Mac hesitated. “Wait a minute. You suspect us of killing Andrus?”
“I just need to follow all leads. The coroner estimates death around five o’clock last night. Where were you two?” Agent Miller glanced between them, his gaze intense.
Toni’s face went very pale. “We were having dinner together. I didn’t even know the man. Why would you think we might have killed him?”
“Look, ma’am, your boyfriend is a seasoned marine. He knows how to kill.” The detective jerked a thumb at Mac. “I have to ask.”
“He’s not my…” Toni didn’t finish, but Mac knew her thoughts.
He wasn’t her boyfriend, although he wished he was.
The detective shrugged, looking at Mac. “Regardless, you have access to weapons and you knew the deceased. Maybe you quarreled. Maybe one of you owed someone money. I don’t know what the story is. I’m not accusing you of anything, but I have to ask the hard questions.”
“Toni and I were having dinner at an Italian restaurant around five o’clock last night.” Mac dug inside his pants pocket for the receipt and handed it to the agent. “I’d like a copy of that, but you can track down the waiter. He’ll confirm we were both there.”
“How can you be so sure the waiter will remember you?”
“Because he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Miss Hamilton.” Mac didn’t add that he’d felt a blaze of jealousy.
Toni stared at Mac, but he kept talking. “After that, we went to Toni’s house and found the burglary. The police came. I took Toni to her aunt’s house around ten o’clock. The cops and her aunt and uncle can confirm that.”
“I can confirm his story from my end,” the Colonel said. “They came to see me this morning.”
“Okay, it sounds like you both have a solid alibi for last night.” Miller studied the receipt like it might give him some answers. “In this neighborhood, anyone could have killed Andrus. Drugs or a few dollars would be enough incentive. I hate seeing you boys survive the war only to come home to the states and get killed by a thief or drug dealer. It seems so senseless to me.”
“Yeah, I agree,” Mac said.
He didn’t understand this strange turn of events. He’d felt confused yet excited to discover he wasn’t the only man to survive the ambush. Finding Cara’s necklace and the empty cell in the basement had been more than confusing.
Had Eric suspected Ryan Andrus of espionage? Andrus had been an intelligence officer, so it was plausible. Andrus must have kidnapped Cara. But who had her now?
Mac and Toni rode to the NCIS office where they were questioned again and signed written statements. Mac explained again about the ponytail man and the fact that he’d been spotted in Clarkston with Andrus the day before. He also told the cops about the call from Cara’s kidnapper. Colonel Wilkinson offered silent support.
“I have no idea what they were into, but the man with the ponytail could have killed Andrus,” Mac said.
“We’ll check into it,” Miller promised.
The agent promised to bring a team to Toni’s house when she expected the kidnapper to contact her again.
“That’s it? You won’t help us any other way?”
Miller shifted his weight and glanced at the colonel. “Sorry, but that’s all we can do at this point.”
Toni stared in shock. Mac couldn’t blame her. He couldn’t understand why the authorities wouldn’t help them find Cara.
“Can we go, now?” Toni asked, her voice sounding small.
Miller released a deep exhale. “Yeah, you’re free to go. But stay in town in case we need to ask you some more questions.”
Toni popped up out of her chair like a ping pong ball and headed for the door. After bidding the Colonel farewell, Mac followed and a black sedan delivered them out front of Andrus’s house. Toni immediately retreated to the cab of Mac’s truck, looking anywhere but at Andrus’s house. Mac understood her reticence. They were both sick of being grilled by suspicious NCIS agents.
* * *
Toni sat quiet inside Mac’s truck. After he climbed into the driver’s seat, he found her staring at a piece of paper in her lap, her face devoid of expression. In one glance, he saw the open glove box and a tissue lying beside her on the seat. She must have gone looking for something to wipe her eyes…and found his letter from the military regarding the investigation into Eric’s death.
A sinking dread settled over Mac. He stared out the windshield, both hands gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline. Without reading the letter, he knew what it said. Every single word.
“Mac, what is this?” Her voice choked as she handed him the paper.
He reached out but didn’t take it and she let it fall. It floated to the seat, settling between them like the Great Wall of China.
No! Not like this.
Panic shot up from his toes. He could get into a lot of trouble if he told her the truth. The military still considered the matter top secret. But he couldn’t evade it any longer, not with it staring them in the face. Not when she’d found out on her own.
Looking at her, he tried to read her thoughts from the distant expression in her eyes. Her trust had been replaced by suspicion and doubt.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way you can just forget about that letter for the time being.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears.
“No, I’m afraid not.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Wiping his upper lip, Mac realized there’d be no more stalling. Amidst his worry and fear, he felt almost relieved. Finally he’d have to tell Toni the truth. Finally he’d get this heavy weight off his chest.
And she’d never want to see him again.
He’d give anything not to destroy her trust in him. Not to make her cry.
“It may not have been Taliban fighters that killed Eric,” he said.
A long pause followed.
“I don’t understand. What are you saying, Mac?”
His gaze locked with hers. Taking a deep breath, he spoke the words he’d been avoiding for so long. “Eric may have died via friendly fire.”
Chapter Eighteen
Toni’s mind spun haphazardly. A queasy feeling settled in her stomach. She stared at Mac, then at the subject line on the letter she’d found in the glove compartment of his truck. It read: Investigation of Suspected Friendly Fire Incident in the Death of Lieutenant Eric Hamilton Near Kabul, Afghanistan.
Friendly fire? This was the first she’d heard of it.
“You think Eric died by friendly fire? You don’t know for certain?” she asked.
“No, NCIS needs more time to investigate. To complete a ballistics test. I may get thrown in the brig for telling you this much.”
She shook her head, feeling dizzy. “But the military told us that Eric died during a skirmish against Taliban fighters. He died in battle. Didn’t he?”
“Yes,” he croaked. “The military doesn’t like to advertise things like this. It causes a media frenzy and makes them look incompetent. Also, they try to protect the man who messed up.”
He gave a short laugh, sounding hollow and cold. Something in his voice stopped her heart. He was talking about a cover up.
A lie.
A depressing premonition settled over her. She wished she could pretend she hadn’t found the letter. But she had. And now, she had to know everything.
Since Eric’s funeral, Toni had sensed Mac was keeping something from her. Now, she knew what it was.
She watched his face intently, confused and frightened. She didn’t want to ask, but she had to know everything. “Why does the military think Eric may have been killed by friendly fire?”
Beads of perspiration dotted Mac’s forehead and he turned on the truck before switching on the air conditioning. He rested his head back against the seat, staring out the windshield. “I didn’t want to tell you like this, Toni. I reported my suspicions to Colonel Wilkinson as soon as I came out of anesthesia in the hospital. The military is running a ballistics test on the slug they took from Eric’s chest.”
She winced in spite of her efforts to remain calm. “I don’t understand, Mac. Who is the military protecting? Who may have killed Eric?”
He looked at her, his eyes filled with anguish and dread. “Me.”
Toni blinked. She couldn’t move, nor barely breathe. Outrage screamed inside her mind. She couldn’t believe this.
No! Eric! Killed by his best friend. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.
She reached for Mac, but then moved away, her hands trembling. “You must be mistaken, Mac. Tell me this isn’t true. Tell me it’s all a cruel joke.”
He shook his head. “I hope I’m wrong, Toni. Everything happened so fast that night. So much confusion. I’d give anything if it weren’t real. I hope it isn’t true.”
“But how? How could such a thing happen? Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe…?”
“No, Toni,” he spoke low. “I was there. I saw it happen. Eric died in my arms. I only hope the tests show that the bullet didn’t come from my gun.”
Opening up like this and revealing his possible guilt must be more than difficult. Toni felt torn by compassion and outrage all at the same time. Mac may have killed her brother. An accident. But with deadly results just the same. What should she think? What should she say? She felt hurt and confused. Numb.
“When will they know for sure?” Her voice sounded monotone, but inside she was screaming.
He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t know. If the bullet was too damaged, they won’t be able to determine whose gun it was fired from. We may never know the truth.”
And then what? She knew deep in her heart of hearts that Mac would never have harmed Eric intentionally. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter who had killed Eric, but it did.
“What…what happened that makes you believe you may have killed Eric?” She spoke quietly, her voice sounding tight with agitation.
Mac turned his head away. She knew what he was about to tell her would change their lives forever. Now she knew, she could never go back to how she’d felt before. She could never forget. Through no fault of her own, her heart was about to be broken.
For the second time.
In a voice squeezed by emotion, he told her about the ambush. That Eric seemed upset. Mac had sensed friction between Eric and Andrus, but he didn’t know what was wrong.
Mac pinched the bridge of his nose and clenched his eyes closed. “Eric hadn’t been himself for two days. We never kept anything from each other for very long.”
Toni waited for him to continue.
“Fire had gutted the plane, but Eric headed toward it, to confirm the electronic components had been destroyed.” Mac’s brow furrowed with pain. “I was dazed by the explosion. My ears rang from the impact. I crouched low and fired, aiming at the bursts of light coming from enemy fire on top of the ledge above. Taliban fighters had the high ground. I have no doubt they knew we were coming. They’d been waiting for us. Someone on the inside must have told them our mission. It was an ambush.”
“But what about Eric? Where was he?” Toni asked.
“Pinned down in the middle of the canyon, huddled behind a large rock. He couldn’t move.”
Toni flinched as a graphic image filled her mind.
Mac started speaking faster, his eyes clenched shut, as if he were reliving the battle. “I was pinned down and couldn’t move. To my right, I heard Silvestri radio the chopper for air support. I feared the whole mountain might come down on my head. I had to get Eric out of there. Against regulations, I cross-fired over his head, trying to give him the chance to run for cover. He bellied down in the sand and tried to inch to a safer position, but spatters of gunfire forced him back. He crouched low, prepared to run. He’d be cut to ribbons. And then…”
Mac gripped the steering wheel, his shoulders shaking. Obviously trying to be strong, trying to hold back his grief. But his emotions burst forth with heavy, wracking sobs. Toni had never seen him like this. Never seen him cry.
She reached out and clasped his arm, hoping to calm him. “That’s enough. I don’t want to hear any more.”
A shudder swept him and he rubbed his eyes, seeming to regain some of his composure. Tremors shook his body and Toni pulled him to her, holding him, rocking him as she also cried.
Mac’s words tore at her heart. She wanted to hate him. To yell and scream and beat him with her fists. But all she could do was hold him. Torn by sympathy and anger. Not knowing which emotion to feel right now.
Eric may have been killed by one of his own men. But not just any man. His best friend.
And then, Toni stilled. She claimed to have faith in God. To love Christ more than anything else on earth. But never had she expected to face her beliefs so fully.
What would the Savior do?
The question pounded her mind. Christ forgave everyone. He gave all mankind the Atonement, so they needn’t suffer his own anguish and pain.
Oh, help me, dear Lord. Help me be strong.
Toni thought about telling her family, but knew she couldn’t do that. At least, not until the ballistics report came back. She had no idea how her family would take the news. What her grandmother and aunts might say or do.
Mac pulled away, swiping at his eyes. Her reasoning mind told her it hadn’t been his fault. Even if it was his bullet that had killed Eric, it shouldn’t change her feelings. Eric had been a marine. A warrior. In the line of fire. He’d chosen his profession and had loved it. He knew what he was getting himself into. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter who had killed him.
But it did.
She scooted away and leaned her forehead against the window pane of her door. Waves of torment pulsed over her. She’d loved Mac since high school. She’d wanted to marry and build a life with him. After this, how could she ever look at him the same way again?
“Toni, please forgive me.”
She couldn’t respond. Her throat felt dry, like sand paper.
She felt an intense desire to protect Mac. To shield him from the media. Something like this could destroy a man’s life. All those nights she’d watched the evening news, she’d heard of an occasional soldier being killed by friendly fire. She’d wondered about the families of the fallen man and how they could cope with knowing their son or daughter had been killed by their own men. And then, she’d thought about the man who’d fired the fatal blow. How did he feel, knowing he’d taken the life of one of his own men? Did the knowledge haunt him? Did it ruin his life?
Well, now she knew. It wracked the soldier with guilt so heavy that he questioned his own life. Never in her wildest dreams had she expected this scenario to hit so close to home.
“Please don’t hate me,” Mac said.
“I…I don’t know what to think anymore, Mac. But…”
“But what?”
“Let’s wait for the military to complete their investigation. Let’s just wait.”
He looked doubtful. “Their findings won’t change anything for me. No matter what, I’ll always feel responsible for Eric’s death. I couldn’t save him, Toni. I tried, but I couldn’t save his life.”
She longed to reach out to him, but something held her back. Her common sense told her she couldn’t blame Mac. And yet, the truth may have just destroyed her trust in him.
Chapter Nineteen
He’d lost her. Mac had told Toni the truth, and lost the girl of his dreams.
After dropping her off at her
Aunt Holly’s house, he drove to his parent’s home. He couldn’t forget the stunned look in Toni’s eyes. The grief and doubt.
He’d lost her trust for good.
As she went inside her aunt’s home, the confidence in her eyes was replaced by accusation.
His heart slammed against his chest. What did life matter without Toni? He couldn’t go back to his solitary world and pretend he’d never loved her. That he didn’t still love her.
Parking his truck out front of his parent’s house, he got out and limped up the walkway to the front door. The smell of barbecue filled the evening air. Down the street, Mrs. Langston called her children to put away their bikes and come inside for dinner. Overhead, stars gleamed in the summer sky. Everything seemed normal and as it should be. And yet, Mac’s world had been turned upside down.
He went inside the dark house and threw the deadbolt. He slumped on the sofa in the living room and stared into space. When he finally rallied himself an hour later, thick shadows filled the living room as he passed through on his way to the hall. Without turning on a light, he walked up the dark stairway and headed straight for his bedroom.
Light from the lamp post outside shimmered through the open shutters on his window. Further out, bright lights from the Vegas strip glimmered like Christmas morning. Night sounds filtered around him, the hum of the air conditioner and the rumble of a car passing down the street.
The springs of the mattress creaked as he sat on the side of his bed and reached for his Bible on the nightstand. He opened it to the fifty-fifth Psalms. Highlighted in red pencil, the words jumped out at him.
Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee.
If only it were true. Mac longed to give his guilt over to the Lord. To cast off his remorse over Eric’s death. But so many reservations filled his heart and mind.
An overwhelming urge to pray filled him. He slid to the floor and tried to kneel in reverence. He held his injured leg out straight as he bowed his head and closed his eyes.
As he opened his mouth, his throat tightened and he couldn’t speak. Emotion caused a hard lump to form around his vocal chords.
