JUDGING ELLIE

by Catherine Snodgrass

  Ellie checked her watch. 7:55. She wasn’t going to make it.

  She wheeled onto the main thoroughfare leading straight to the Twentynine Palms Marine Corps Base. At this rate, she’d be lucky if a cop didn’t pull her over. She accelerated to the guard gate, breaking hard at the last second.

  The armed military policeman on duty extended one hand for her ID card. He looked at her photo, then squinted at her face.

  "Doesn’t look much like you." He snickered. "Nice hairdo, Staff Sergeant." Then he waved her through the gate.

  Shocked and confused, Ellie eased into the base traffic. Speeding here was not an option—the military police were far more diligent. At the stop light she turned the rearview mirror toward herself to see what sentry was talking about.

  Horrors! Her hair looked like a rat’s nest, her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from the club’s smoky air, and she still had remnants of last night’s makeup job smudged onto her face.

  "Great. Just great. I look like a train wreck." Steering with one hand, she tried to wipe the mess away with a tissue. It was hopeless. There weren’t enough Kleenex in the world to clean her face. She shook her head, turned the mirror away, and tried not to think about her less-than-stellar appearance.

  At exactly 8:00, she skidded into a parking spot at the Office of the Staff Judge Advocate, parked, and sprinted for the door.

  It was an unusually busy Friday morning. Marine clerks criss-crossed the long hallway, ducking between offices, carrying paperwork and delivering case files. Two civilian defense attorneys, preparing to meet with their military clients in the defense counsel’s chambers, paced impatiently in the reception area, waiting for the military police to deliver the accuseds.

  Ellie sped down the corridor, ignored her gaping coworkers hovering around the coffee pot and headed straight for the courtroom at the end of the long building.

  8:01. Late.

  Maybe they hadn’t started on time. Maybe the judge was still in his chambers. She opened the door and cringed.

  Lieutenant Colonel Epstein sat in the judge’s chair, twirling his silver Cross pen between two fingers. He raised his head and glared as she slid through the courtroom door and hurried to the court reporter’s station located directly in front of and below the judge’s box.

  "Staff Sergeant Severance, so nice of you to join us." Judge Epstein’s voice carried across the entire width of the courtroom with quiet, deadly precision.

  Ellie forced emotion from her face as she stood ramrod straight at her station. "Sorry, sir."

  From the corner of her eye she saw the prosecutor and the defense counsel had broken off their discussion with one of the base NCIS agents to watch the interplay between her and the judge.

  "Thank you for gracing us with your presence this morning. If it isn’t too much of an imposition on your time, I’d like to commence with the court-martial."

  "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Were her cheeks as red as they felt? "I apologize to you and to the rest of the courtroom for my lapse."

  He eyed her for a moment, then nodded. "This tardiness hasn’t happened before, and I realize you’re new here to the base, but I encourage you to be on time for my court in the future." His mouth tightened as he looked her up and down. "Also, Staff Sergeant, next time you’re in here, I expect you to be looking like a Marine, not a bag lady."

  "Yes, sir." She took her seat, spine rigid, nearly blind with shame. Faint snorts of laughter drifted from the bailiff and from the first sergeant who attended the proceedings as a representative for the accused’s command.

  Ellie gritted her teeth, and as the judge called the courtroom to order, began the recording procedures. She had no one to blame but herself. It had been pure carelessness on her part not to have prepared her uniform the night before and double-checked her alarm. As a staff sergeant, she knew better; she had to be on top of things. She wasn’t a raw recruit. There was no excuse for her action.

  The morning dragged on interminably. The accused made his plea for leniency in the face of the larceny charges brought against him by the government prosecutor. The young man had been caught pilfering calling cards from the convenience store on base. By the time 11:30 rolled around and the final morning witness testified, Ellie was exhausted and only wanted to take her lunch so she could go home, shower, and fix her crumpled uniform.

  At last, Judge Epstein called a halt to the proceedings. "We will continue this court after lunch. Be back here promptly at 1300." He sliced his gaze Ellie’s way. "That’s one o’clock in the afternoon, Staff Sergeant Severance, just in case you forget." He raised one bushy gray eyebrow slightly to take the bite from his words. "Dismissed."

  Ellie shoved her sliding glasses up her nose. Time to get the heck out of here and get clean. She walked to the doors, cutting in front of First Sergeant Yost and NCIS Agent Duncan in her haste to get escape.

  "Easy there, Severance." Yost’s weathered face was slightly sunburned from a recent training exercise out in the desert with his tank battalion. "You all fired up to get back to the Oasis?" He gestured at the distinctive ink stamp still visible on her hand. "I wouldn’t have thought it was your type of place. Did you wander in there by mistake and fall asleep reading one of your books." He laughed a long loud bray that turned heads all around.

  Ellie said nothing, hoping the jocular Yost would forget about this morning’s tardiness and not keep reminding her of her public embarrassment. She’d met him a few times before. He was the type of man who continued to joke about other people’s humiliating moments over and over again. She could only hope he got transferred to a remote location where she wouldn’t have to work with him ever again. Diego Garcia Island in the middle of the Indian Ocean would be great. The moon—even better.

  His broad southern drawl dragged on as she walked away.

  "She’s a fine court reporter, that Staff Sergeant Severance, but an odd bird. Kind of shy, y’all know what I mean? Tall, gawky gal, walks around like she’s trying to hide all of the time. Don’t understand why she’s in the Corps, myself."

  The reply from the NCIS agent was low, but audible. "What she lacks in personality she more than makes up for in body odor. Did you smell her? I’m surprised the judge didn’t order her to report to the shower. Reeks of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. Must have skated through personal hygiene in boot camp."

  Ellie jerked to a stop in the middle of the hallway.

  Coworkers paused in the corridor and stood wide-eyed, waiting for her response.

  She had had enough. Yost’s comment was typical, but Agent Duncan’s comment was unexpected. True, they’d had more than their share of run-ins since she’d arrived, but he had never attacked her in public this way—never attacked her personally. This went way beyond the jabs and snide comments they normally flung at each other. His unnecessary cruelty only fueled the simmering anger inside.

  Ellie whipped around to face Yost and Duncan, halting them in their tracks. "I may not be a fashion model, but I have manners enough not to bad mouth someone behind their back. If you’ve got something to say, say it to my face."

  Arms stiff at her sides, fists balled, she glared at Yost, then turned her thick-glassed stare on the foulmouthed agent. It was the first time she had ever been up close and personal with him.

  She admitted, against her will, that he was an extraordinarily attractive man. About five-foot-eleven with fine, high-boned cheeks that hinted at a drop of American Indian in his blood. His short hair was dark blond, slightly wavy. Ellie always assumed he was an older man, but looking carefully at him face to face for the first time, she saw his age was closer to her own, perhaps a few years older. Most unusual were his eyes, a blue so pale they looked lit from within by a laser. Kind of like a Husky dog’s eyes—an icy, white-blue that had no end. Eyes that watched her now with cool amusement.

  Ellie swallowed. Hard.

  He waited, head cocked ever so slightly. Ellie would swear he fought a smile. No doubt anything he said now would only ril
e her more. She hoped he had the sense to keep his mouth shut. All she needed was one more straw and she’d…

  "Is there a problem here?" Judge Epstein came up behind Duncan and Yost. An empty coffee cup dangled from his finger and they were between him and his target—the coffee pot down the corridor. "Don’t you folks have any place better to be? Move it."

  Ellie didn’t have to be told twice. Her beef with Yost and Duncan would keep until she had time to plan a proper rebuttal. Right now, a hot shower called her name.

  She turned her back on the men and marched toward her car. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she thought about Duncan and she shuddered. He was memorable, all right, but in the same category as a caged leopard in the zoo. Beautiful, but dangerous, and quite capable of great bodily harm.

  The return trip back to base forty minutes later was much more sedate. And Ellie definitely felt more human. There was a different guard on duty at the gate; one who didn’t pay any special attention to her. Uniform pressed, clean T-shirt, clean body. Blissful anonymity. She sighed happily and pulled up in front of Susan’s favorite lunch spot—Burger King.

  Being smoke free and having a freshly ironed uniform put Ellie in a much better mood for giving Susan a piece of her mind. First, she’d chew the woman out for leaving her alone at the club. Then she’d let Susan beg her for details about Kurt.

  She got a tiny fission of excitement just thinking about him—the smooth deep rumble of his voice, the soft brush of his lips against her own.

  Ellie walked into the busy fast food joint and looked around. People chattered and ate their lunches in a mix of Marines, Naval hospital personnel, and civilian employees.

  Susan spotted her first. A wave and a smile drew Ellie’s attention her way. She sat at a square table by herself, a half-eaten Whopper on her tray. As Ellie approached, Susan shooed away two young corpsmen who tried to invade her lunch table. Even in her white Navy uniform—skirt, blouse, and sensible pumps—she still attracted attention from men.

  "I am really upset with you." Ellie plopped into the seat across from her.

  "Oh come on, hon." Susan rolled her eyes heavenward then leaned closer, arms braced on the table. "You totally hooked up last night, didn’t you? Details, details, girlfriend!"

  Her friend’s bouncy enthusiasm was hard to ignore. She tried again, mustering her most severe tone. "I can’t believe you and Jeremy just took off and left me alone last night. That guy could have been an ax murderer or something."

  "We didn’t leave you. You went off with Mr. Wonderful and didn’t tell us," Susan shot back. "Jeremy and I looked all over the club for you, and he told me he couldn’t find you anywhere."

  Ellie’s forehead wrinkled with confusion. "You and Jeremy weren’t in the club when Kurt went in to look for you. I had to ask him for a ride home."

  Susan sidled closer, dark blue eyes intent upon Ellie. "Is that his name? Kurt? Kurt what?"

  "Kurt Orin." It was really hard to stay mad at Susan when Ellie was in a bouncy mood. "He’s a really nice guy. Normal. Not all full of himself. And he’s a great dancer, too."

  "Kurt Orin." Susan tapped her finger against her chin and stared into space. "Hmmm. Never heard that name before. He seemed vaguely familiar, though. I just can’t place him. Maybe he’s been at the club before and I just never introduced myself. Is he military? What did you tell him your name was? Did you make one up like Sasha Snugglebunny or something?"

  "No." Ellie laughed lightly. "I just told him my name was Ellie, and he didn’t press me when I didn’t give him my last name. I just wanted to be anonymous last night. Big adventure, remember?"

  "You are a dark horse, aren’t you? You’re in the club for thirty minutes, hook up with a total babe and talk him into taking you home. What else did you talk him into, hmmm?"

  "Nothing else happened." The turn in conversation embarrassed her. Even if something had happened, Ellie would never tell Susan. Stuff like that was, well, private. "He drove me home, walked me up to the door, and said good night."

  "He didn’t come inside?"

  "Well…" Ellie hesitated, then went on. "Just as far as the living room. He wanted to look around and make sure everything was secure."

  "I’m sure he was only interested in your safety." Susan poked her index finger into Ellie’s shoulder. "Probably tried to get you to show him your collection of nighties from Victoria’s Secret."

  "If I had any items like that, I don’t think I would show them to some guy I’d just met." Although, he was almost perfect. He’d even held the car door open for her.

  "Well, what else did he say?"

  Susan seemed determined to drag out every bit of information about Kurt. Ellie remained elusive. Next time she saw Jeremy, she’d question him about abandoning ship. Susan had obviously decided not to admit to any wrongdoing.

  "Not much. We talked about this and that. Nothing too personal."

  "Did he ask you out again?" Susan shoved her tray aside to get closer.

  "Well, yes, he did," Ellie announced with a shy grin. "He asked for my telephone number and said he’d like to go out on Saturday evening. So I gave him my new cell number."

  "The one your mom forced on you for your birthday? The cell phone you swore you’d never use? I’m surprised you even activated the damn thing. I know how much you hate answering the phone."

  "Only when I’m reading, and yes, I did activate it. I had to or she threatened she’d fly out in person and activate it for me herself. Mother thinks she can track me down more easily if I have a cell phone. My answer to her Machiavellian plan is to leave it at home with the ringer turned off. Ha."

  "And risk missing a call from your new lover boy?" Susan’s snicker faded fast. "At least now I’ll have a better chance of reaching you and not that damned answering machine. I’m getting sick of having to call you at work."

  "Well, you’re still going to have to call me on my work line because I’m not lugging a cell phone around with me all day. I refuse to be at anyone’s beck and call…even lover boy’s, as you so uniquely put it."

  That wasn’t entirely true. Ellie would kick herself a million times over if she missed a call from Kurt. She helped herself to one of Susan’s french fries. "The setup for this thing was weird anyway. The phone itself was free, but my mother bought a block of long-distance time for me to use. Kind of like a calling card. When it’s used up, I just buy another block of time."

  "With the amount of time you spend on the telephone, you’ll never have to buy any more time," Susan said.

  "Very funny." Ellie made a face and squeezed out a packet of ketchup. "Anyway, that’s the story on Kurt. We have a date."

  Susan picked up her burger and bit out a chunk. She chewed slowly, then swallowed. "You’ll need to keep my wig for a while longer. No problem there."

  Oh, no, not that scratchy wig. "Maybe I shouldn’t wear it for our date."

  "No!" She grabbed Ellie’s arm. "You have to wear it."

  Heads swivelled their way. Susan gave Ellie an awkward smile and released her.

  "Get real. Don’t you think he likes the wig? If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have asked you out again. If you go as the real you, he might get upset, thinking you tried to jerk his chain. Get to know the guy first, then give him the surprise of his life by taking off the wig. You have to get him on the hook, though, and that wig is perfect bait."

  Ellie nodded, reluctantly.

  Susan grinned. "I guarantee that with my help, after your next date, he won’t be able to stay away from you."

  * * *

  Jess Alderman, senior NCIS investigator, reached into his pocket and took out a toothpick. He slid off its cellophane wrapper, then deftly placed it between his teeth at the corner of his mouth. He leaned forward over his battered old desk and laced his big hands together. It was a deliberate pose that made his lanky frame seem unthreatening and approachable.

  Good ole boy at work.

  It was a trick Kurt had seen Jess use many times when int
errogating witnesses. Kurt knew the truth. The real Jess could be as approachable as a great white shark circling its prey.

  "So you went to the club looking for a blackmailing prostitute with the idea you could gain her trust and get some valuable information…and you ended up driving her home. Am I getting this straight?" He pushed the toothpick to the other corner of his mouth. "What next, Kurt, are you going to be asking her out for dinner and a movie?"

  "Don’t start with me, Jess. I’ve had one bad run-in today, and I’m not in the mood for any more crap."

  The older man was baiting him, but Kurt wasn’t interested in playing games. He sat back and waited for Jess to make his next move.

  They eyed each other for a minute, then Jess broke the tension. "Look, slick, let me remind you about the last time you went a little too far with your investigations. You ended up getting shot and spending a lot of quality time at the hospital, remember?"

  Kurt’s shoulder and thigh twinged with half-remembered pain. His recovery had been long and had involved months of rehabilitation. He refused to argue with Jess about old cases and said nothing.

  "You’ve got to stop getting so obsessed with these parts you play." Jess shook a finger at him and put on his lecture face. "If I even suspect you’re taking this woman’s surveillance too far, putting yourself at risk, I will personally pull you off this case and loan you out to PMO for long-term traffic detail. Understand?"

  "I’ll do my best to stay as uninvolved as possible." Kurt mustered the most earnest expression he could. "It’s a blackmailing case after all. Nothing too difficult."

  That seemed to appease Jess, so Kurt changed the subject. "Why did you call me in here? You know I’m supposed to be in court today providing testimony."

  Jess rolled the toothpick to its original position. "This’ll just take a minute. Another new investigation came up,