Harley (In the Company of Snipers Book 4)

by Irish Winters

  He answered, abrupt as ever. “Stewart.”

  “Hi, Alex.”

  Instantly, his voice softened. “Good morning, Judy. How is Harley?”

  “That’s why I’m calling.” She gulped. “He’s staying with Zack right now. He doesn’t know me yet, and I... umm, need a favor.”

  “Sure. Glad to help. What can I do for you?”

  Thankfully Alex hadn’t pried into why Harley wasn’t home. Surprised at her sudden nervousness, she wiped her sweaty palm on her jeans. “Well, I thought if I could tie up all the loose ends from that day the IED blew up, maybe he could move on. Maybe once he’s put everything to rest and he understands exactly what happened, he’ll, umm, remember.”

  “Sounds reasonable.”

  Alex sounded willing, so she pressed forward. “I’m trying to locate his men. I need to know what happened, maybe talk with his commanding officer or someone he was close to.”

  “No problem. I can get you a copy of the Army’s after action report.”

  “Would it include that Knicks person Raj mentioned in the ER? Remember?”

  “Who? Oh, you mean Sergeant Knicks.”

  “Yes. Do you know what happened to him?” Judy paced. “Was he killed that day too?”

  “Her,” Alex corrected. “Sergeant Knicks is female. I’d be glad to help you locate her. She might be the perfect one for you to spend time with. I’ve worked with a few Army Rangers over the years. If I can’t track her down, Murphy can.”

  Judy bit her lip, unable to answer. In the hospital, Harley had asked her out for a drink – the last thing he needed. He might not have time.

  “Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? Kelsey would love to see you.”

  “How is she doing?”

  “It’s been a tough day. She’s working with the mortuary on the funeral service. We’ve decided to bury Raymond in our family plot.”

  “Like he was part of your family?”

  “As far as Kelsey’s concerned, he was. And Jed is setting up a shelter for homeless kids like Raymond in D.C. Kelsey will manage it. She’ll be busy. Come for dinner,” Alex offered again with what sounded more like an order than a request.

  “Maybe.” Judy left it at that. “Thank you, Alex. Bye.”

  Didn’t it just figure? Another woman.

  The one night turned into a week. Then two. Zack went to work most days, leaving Harley to help Mei around the house with Baby Song. Mostly he played with the little gal, they watched television together, and as regular as clockwork, they fell asleep on the couch or floor together. Baby Song needed her naps and apparently, so did Harley. The comfort of being in a loving family softened the hollow feeling in his heart. The blurting compulsion diminished until the only E words that came out of his mouth were the ones he thought of all by himself.

  Zack had a couple of pit bulls: Fluffy, a brindle, and Moo Moo, named because he was black and white like a cow. LiLi named them. It made Harley smile to see Song pulling Moo Moo’s floppy ears to peek inside his hard head.

  He taught the girls some easy commands like sit, stay, and drop it for the occasional time-out when Fluffy decided to chew Barbie and Ken’s heads off. Mostly he played with the dogs, gentling them into acceptable family members. Easiest job ever. Dogs were the best medicine. The time spent with the Lennox children and their pets worked its magic.

  Alex stopped by for a visit. Mark and Libby too. The only one who never showed was Judy. Harley missed her. Nights were long and incredibly—empty.

  Day fourteen was LiLi’s field trip. He volunteered to take the bus ride to Mount Vernon with her so Zack wouldn’t have to miss work. Neither Zack nor Mei wanted LiLi to go so far from home, but Harley argued she’d be fine. After all, he would be there; he’d keep track of her.

  “So when did old George build this place?” He eyed the impressive twenty-one room mansion while he and LiLi lunched together. They’d seen every exhibit and watched every movie on George Washington and the Revolutionary War by then. He’d expected her to take off and want to be with her friends, but instead, she acted more like she was chaperoning him. Funny little girl. LiLi was her mother, Mei, in miniature. Pretty. Loving. And a little bit bossy.

  “He didn’t,” LiLi informed him patiently. “His daddy built it. George Washington only made it bigger and nicer. He was a very smart man.”

  “He built all the other buildings though, didn’t he?”

  “Ah huh,” she agreed. “It’s a neat place only no one lives here anymore. Teacher says we should be sure to see the blacksmith’s barn and the gristmill. Want to see the graves first?”

  “He’s buried here?” Harley so did not know his American history.

  LiLi bounced off the bench. “Ah huh. Let’s go. I’ll show you.”

  After discarding their lunch debris, they walked the leafy trail to George and Martha Washington’s tombs. Giant trees sheltered the brick structure while wrought-iron gates protected the site. Two of the mothers were already there with their groups of children, but it was the whitened sepulchers inside the tomb that caught Harley’s eye.

  “Stand over there. I’ll take a picture of you.” LiLi had her cell phone already poised to record the moment.

  “No, darlin’,” Harley said quietly, not wanting any photos of him taken near a grave.

  The somberness of the moment resonated. Here lay the man history referred to as the Father of Our Country, but all Harley knew about George Washington was war related. Valley Forge. The Delaware River. Princeton. The man was known for his courage in battle. He’d risked his life for his men. He was another survivor. A hero.

  LiLi’s warm little hand found its way inside Harley’s. The other groups had begun their trek uphill and back to the bus, but for now, silence filled the air. Even the birds in the trees stilled.

  For a moment, he and George Washington were not so different. Warriors were the same throughout history. Soldiers too. Patriotic. Committed. Proud to serve. Harley could almost see himself following the man on that frigid winter morning so long ago to take on the mercenary Hessian Army. The day after Christmas. Battle of Trenton. His mind conjured a whiff of gunpowder.

  He envisioned the matchlock muskets the soldiers might have carried. The flintlock rifles. The British Army’s reliable Brown Bess. Kentucky long rifles. He might have been one of those guys at the frontline on bended knee, reloading while soldiers behind him fired over his head.

  And Martha never wavered. No doubt she’d waited faithfully for her gallant husband, devoted and true, keeping the home fires burning while he was away. And Judy would have waited forever too. Maybe she and Martha—

  Judy. A lightning bolt struck out of the clear blue sky. The perfect image materialized. A stunningly beautiful woman with creamy skin and brownish-red hair. She called it auburn. He called it red. That Judy. His Judy. My Judy.

  And he knew why his mind had doubted. How could he remember her when he didn’t know who he was? Judy was future promise, not past regret; the difference between what he had allowed himself to disintegrate into, and the man he’d chosen to be. And he’d been backsliding since he’d awakened up in the hospital. Until now.

  His shoulders straightened. Furthermore, his brain wasn’t full of holes either. Hell no. That was a weak man’s rationalization for sinking into drugs, booze, loose women and dangerous stupidity. That was the old him, the guy who blamed everyone and everything else, until....

  Sonny. Another memory stepped smartly forward, the only counselor in a Texas rehab facility who’d finally gotten through to Harley. And he’d done it by using nasty old drill sergeant tricks with a touch of ex-Army know-how and good old-fashioned prayer. And from that moment on, Harley was a changed man.

  His chin stuck out. That damned Zack was almost right. Harley didn’t need booze or drugs, but he was hands-down Alex Stewart’s best sniper. Not Zack. The liar. Harley took a deep breath and sucked in the fresh air of a damned good day. He needed to go home. He had a woman to lo
ve, and it was high time she knew it.

  The expectation of her smile warmed him. Judy would be so happy to see him. He’d take her on that dance she’d wanted and they would end up in bed. So where was she? What was she doing?

  “On second thought.” He released LiLi’s hand, his mind made up to finish the field trip in record time. “How about if I take a picture of you before we leave?”

  She smiled her cheesiest, but then insisted he had to take a more serious picture, and man, the girl liked to pose. After the third goofy-face picture, he called it quits. “Miss LiLi. Enough of the ham. Let’s get to the bus and go home.”

  She grinned and took his hand again, skipping beside him as they trekked up hill. “Are you and Judy gonna break up?”

  “Not if I can help it.” He searched his mind for Judy’s schedule. She’d be working her usual graveyard shift. That meant she was home sleeping. In their bed. At this very moment. He had time. Extricating his cell phone from his front jeans pocket, Harley called the hospital to make sure. No. He’d just missed her. Judy had taken time off. Indefinite time off.

  Harley hung up. He didn’t like the sound of that. His throat went dry as he dialed Judy’s cell. The call went straight to voicemail. Dialing again, he rang his apartment. No answer.

  Damn. What did indefinite mean anyway? One week? Two? Had she gone back to Wisconsin for a visit? To stay? Each scenario went from bad to worse. Of course, she went home to her parents’ place. Why shouldn’t she? He’d given her no hope, just walked out on her like he was the only one with the problem. Worse, he’d done nothing to contact her in the meantime.

  The oddest sensation shivered over his shoulders. He might not have time. He needed to get home. Now.

  Thirty

  Where are they?

  How could one set of car keys vanish off the kitchen counter when Judy was the only one in the apartment? Afternoon traffic on the Jefferson Davis Highway would be crowded. Sergeant Knicks was scheduled to fly in. Her plane might already be on the ground. Judy needed to be gone already!

  She had taken time off work just to show the sergeant around town and hopefully, get to know her better and what happened to Harley too. Woman or not, any friend of his was a friend of hers. Darn his handsome hide. He seemed to attract some beautiful women. Just once, she’d like one of them to be dog faced and homely for a change.

  When her sunglasses slid down her nose again, she gave up the battle and stuck them topside into her hair. They’d be more helpful as a hair pick. Her house phone jangled, but because she’d broken it in a fit of temper, it went to voicemail. Just as well. The last thing she had time for today was a prankster. Sheesh! People these days! Don’t they have better things to do?

  Hurriedly, she made another sweep through the kitchen and down the hall, her mind going a mile a minute. Alex was no doubt toe-tapping his impatient foot at Reagan National, waiting for her to show. Any minute now, he’d be calling her cell phone, wondering where she was and why she was late.

  He had been good for his word. Although full of acronyms she’d not understood, the Army’s report provided greater detail on the fateful day that had taken Harley’s men. Despite his own injury, he’d actually pulled two of his men from the burning Humvee. Corporal Carlton Jenner was already deceased, but nothing stopped Harley from trying to resuscitate him. And then he’d scrambled to collect body parts until he collapsed from hysterical exhaustion. No wonder he couldn’t remember. It wasn’t just his Hummer that blew up that day. More like his whole life.

  Oddly, Sergeant Knicks’ name did not show up in the report, but no matter. Judy would get to meet her soon enough. Pausing at the doorway to his office, she knew darn well her keys were not in there. On top of everything else, the house phone rang again, and right on top of it, the doorbell, cranking up her need to be gone.

  Judy made one quick dash down the hall to her bedroom. How could she lose her keys so fast? She’d only been home long enough to make a quick change out of her scrubs. Scanning her’s and Harley’s bedroom revealed nothing more than her soiled scrubs beside the bed. She hadn’t even wasted time tossing them in the hamper.

  Pausing at the bathroom door, she shook her head. Nope. She’d been two places, the kitchen and the bedroom. The calm demeanor she’d hoped to present when she met Sergeant Knicks flew out the window. If one more thing went wrong—

  Once again the doorbell nagged. She marched into the hall. Whoever was on the other side of that door was going to get a piece of her mind. She jerked it open. FBI Agent Holman’s big foot landed inside her apartment before she could slam the door in his face. He looked different somehow. Who did this jerk think he was to show up like this?

  “It’s about time you opened up. I’ve been waiting.”

  “What do you want?” she barked.

  “To talk.”

  The silk in his voice set off a whispering alarm in the back of her mind. Run.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time right now.” God, he bugged her. “I was just on my way out.” To catch a cab, darn it anyway.

  “I beg to differ.” He leaned casually inside the doorframe, his palm spread flat against the door.

  The hair on the back of her neck lifted. Instinct whispered a little louder. Run.

  “Get out of my home or I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” He raised his other hand into view.

  Judy froze. A set of keys dangled off his index finger. Her keys. He’d been in her home. Him. Holman. Within the last fifteen minutes. Since she’d dropped her keys on the counter. While she was in her bedroom. Changing clothes. Half-dressed. Her whole body jerked back a step.

  RUN!

  He pushed the door open wider. The man still wore his black suit, white shirt and black tie, but nothing about him declared federal service. Predator, maybe. Angry man, for sure. Killer....

  She backed into the kitchen as he entered. Sliding the top cabinet drawer open behind her, she felt for the stainless steel knife set. Pulling one out of its place, she clenched its handle tightly.

  He dropped her keys on the counter. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

  Come one step closer, and I’ll show you clever.

  “Twenty-six years of federal service,” he said as he snapped his fingers to his thumb. “Gone, just like that and all because of you.”

  “Get out of my home,” she demanded again, her heart rate off the charts as she calculated her next move. The knife had to hit his jugular or his heart. But her fingers trembled. The knife slipped.

  “You want to play whose is bigger?” He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a stainless steel cleaver. Hers. “I think I’d win that game too Judy, Judy, Judy.”

  A cold chill slid down her back. All those prank calls were—him. Holman. He’d had been stalking her for days. Mind-numbing terror flooded her very logical brain. He’d been watching. He had her trapped in her own apartment! There was no back door, only a fire escape off her patio, the whole living room away.

  Judy backed into the hall. Running might give her time, but he was right. A steak knife was nothing against a cleaver. He might loose a pint, but she’d lose an arm or worse.

  “Do you know what I thought the moment I laid eyes on you?” His voice dropped lower as he took a step in her direction.

  “I don’t care.” She stepped backward, her breath coming too fast and furious.

  “Oh, but you do.” His lip twisted into a sneer. “There you were sitting all high and mighty in my interrogation room like you thought you were somebody. You needed to be put in your place in the worst way.”

  “Please, just go. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Hurt me? Oh, baby, I’m sure it will work the other way around.”

  Every muscle of hers from the ground up shivered with his sinister pronouncement.

  “You surprised me when you pulled Jed McCormack out of your bag of magic tricks. He and Stewart are thick as thieves, aren’t they? Of course, they’d com
e to your rescue.”

  Judy gulped. If she ran through the living room, she might have a chance. Carefully, she let the handle of the knife slip through her fingers until she held only the tip of the blade. That’s how Harley threw his knife when he practiced throwing. If he could do it, so could she.

  In one quick motion, she cocked her arm and threw the blade. Not waiting to see where it landed or if it even struck, she sprinted into the living room and headed for the open door.

  “I knew you’d keep things interesting,” he purred.

  Her heels hit the linoleum floor in the hallway. The door wasn’t open as she’d hoped, but she could make it. She had to. The knob was almost in reach when his body slammed into hers. He hit so hard, her cheekbone impacted. Stars exploded in her head. A dizzying wave of blackness welled up around her, but there was no way to fall. He had her pinned in a vertical position. With one hand to her shoulder, he jerked her around to face him. She offered her cheek to avoid his twisted gaze raking over her.

  Gripping her throat in one fist, he commanded her, “Look at me.”

  Jerking her knee upward, she met the resistance of his thigh. Damn. He’d been prepared for that kick to his groin. Her options dwindled.

  “I said look at me!”

  Fear compelled her to obey. She almost didn’t recognize the man who’d interrogated her. Whatever Holman had stuck in his veins or up his nose was now in control. Icy dark eyes glittered back at her, eyes so hollow no pigment showed, only cold, black evil. His upper lip twitched continually, and every bit of the man shook, including his head.

  A long strand of gray hair had broken free of the thirty-weight oil he’d combed it back with. It hung in his eyes, adding to the demented twist to his features. Her inner nurse diagnosed even as he squeezed the breath out of her. Meth? Cocaine? Heroin? Designer drugs? All of them?

  God, I don’t care. He’s going to kill me!

  “I’ll tell you what I thought. I thought what a rocking good time you and I could have before I cut you into little chunks and wash you down the drain, you arrogant bitch.” He leaned in to her face. “Chunks so small Mortimer will wonder where you went while he’s standing over the same drain taking a shower. Won’t that be ironic as hell?”