The Final Mission Read online

  Todd asked, “You got any kids?”

  “No.”

  “Are you gonna stay for a while?”

  “I don’t think so. Maybe another day.” She wondered why the boys exchanged looks at that, but decided maybe they were relieved to know life would go back to normal soon.

  And it was possible to tell them apart, she realized. There was the slightest difference in their noses, a small hint of a downturn at the corners of Kyle’s eyes. Not something to be noticed at a glance. And Todd had a very tiny mole on his left cheek. “I can tell you apart!” she announced with surprise.

  That caused both boys to shriek with laughter. “They put us in separate classes cuz the teachers have trouble.”

  “Let me guess. I bet you sometimes switch.”

  They shifted, their guilty looks answer enough. Courtney laughed. “And I bet you don’t help them out at all.”

  Kyle shrugged. “Why should we? All they have to do is really look at us.”

  Courtney couldn’t really argue against that. Even if playing jokes and switching classes wasn’t a good thing to be doing. And that caused her to think of something else. “Does it bother you that they don’t look?”

  Apparently they hadn’t thought of it in those terms before. And why should they, given their youth? Replies were slow in coming, almost as if they wondered if there was a right answer. Or as if they weren’t sure how they felt.

  “I guess, sometimes,” Kyle said eventually. “Mostly it seems funny.” He glanced at Todd. “Right?”

  “Mostly,” Todd agreed. “But sometimes it’s not so funny.”

  “Like when?”

  “Like…like when we can switch classes for a whole day and nobody notices.”

  Courtney’s heart twinged. “Does it make you feel invisible?”

  Todd shrugged. Apparently the waters were getting too deep for a seven-year-old. “I dunno. It just isn’t funny sometimes.”

  “I guess I can see that.” And she could. “But you know what?”

  “What?”

  “You have different fingerprints, even though you’re twins.”

  The boys perked up at that. “So we couldn’t get mixed up for real?”

  “No way.”

  “Can you take our fingerprints?”

  “I don’t have a kit with me. But if it’s okay with your dad, I think your sheriff could do it and give them to you.”

  All of a sudden, both boys were grinning again, happier in some way. Funny, she had always thought twins liked being twins, but faced with these two it occurred to her that being a twin might have impacts that had never occurred to her. Something to keep in mind.

  As ordered, they dived into their homework, which amounted to a couple of worksheets that didn’t take too long. They wanted Courtney to supervise, so after warning them that it had been a long time since second grade for her and she might not remember enough to be useful—which got more giggles—she sat between them and helped when requested. Which wasn’t often, because these boys seemed to have a good understanding of what they were doing.

  They were just finishing up when Dom returned. Courtney turned to join the boys in their greeting and noted the way he appeared to be arrested, as if something in the sight of the three of them gave him pause.

  At once Courtney realized she might appear to be taking Mary’s place. She started to rise, but Dom waved her to stay.

  “I need a shower,” he said shortly. “Back in ten.”

  She watched him walk from the room, listened to the sound of his feet on the stairs.

  Be careful, she reminded herself. Be careful. The man was a grieving widower, and her mere presence in the house had to be uncomfortable for him, never mind her mission.

  The boys appeared oblivious to any undercurrents, however. They finished the last bit of their worksheets, tucked them in folders and away in their backpacks.

  Then, like a pair of small whirlwinds, they grabbed their jackets and darted out the door, calling to her to come with them because they wanted to see the horses.

  At once she jumped up, hunting for the boots she had worn that morning, grabbing her own windbreaker from a hook. The idea of those two little boys alone out there with those large horses didn’t seem exactly safe.

  By the time she got out there, the two of them were perched on the fence rail looking absolutely comfortable and confident. A few of the horses had come over to take carrots from them, and the boys reached out to stroke, scratch and pet, their touches obviously welcome.

  Watching in amazement, she remembered her own initial nervousness that morning, and realized she knew nothing, absolutely nothing, about growing up on a ranch and what that evidently meant.

  Those boys knew these horses, were comfortable with them and the horses appeared to reciprocate. Indeed, the twins’ entire manner had changed, becoming quieter and more like their father than they had been in the house. Even their voices had softened.

  Amazed and curious, Courtney walked slowly over to the fence and stood nearby. Part of her longed to be able to sit on the rail, too, and pass out carrots, but part of her was still reluctant. Oh, she had ridden horses before in her life. Every girl who could manage it did so, even if only for a short time. It wasn’t as if she was afraid to ride a horse. A nice tame beast already saddled, with an experienced horseman there to guide her every step of the way.

  This was different, and she wondered why. Because there were so many of them? Because to some extent they appeared to be wild, rather than tame, since they were out there free of all halters and saddles?

  Maybe. Yet as she had just seen this morning, these horses were as tame as could be. She took a halting step toward the pasture fence, then threw back her shoulders and walked over to stand by the boys.

  Todd greeted her at once and handed her a couple of carrots. “Just hold it out and see who takes it.”

  So, leaning against the rail, she did exactly that. Much to her amazement, a gangly-looking small horse came over, his soft lips barely touching her fingers as he took a carrot.

  “Wow!” she said quietly. “That was amazing.”

  Todd laughed. “It’s fun. They’re all good horses. Dad says that’s cuz we treat ’em well.”

  “We treat ’em like horses,” Kyle corrected.

  “Meaning?” Courtney asked as she handed out another carrot.

  “They don’t think like us. They need different things.” Kyle sounded like he was parroting Dom, and he probably was. “Dad’s teaching us all about it.”

  “That’s great,” Courtney agreed. “You’re lucky. I don’t know anything about horses, really.”

  “Dad’ll take care of that. Unless you leave tomorrow.”

  Unless she left tomorrow. She’d been ready to do that not so long ago, as she had been reading Mary’s emails and letters and learning to know a warm and wonderful side of the woman she had never met in Iraq.

  But that anonymous threat, at first so shocking, seemed to have stiffened her spine. No way could she have gotten to this level in her job if a mere anonymous email could scare her off.

  And somehow standing here with Mary’s boys and looking out over a sunny pasture full of horses, Courtney found herself wishing she didn’t have to go so soon. This place could grow on her, she realized. Seriously grow on her.

  She caught herself and shook the thought away. She was falling for an image, she reminded herself. A pastoral scene that might have come out of a storybook. She hadn’t the least idea how much work this place required, or how much it took out of the family. How much those beautiful horses really needed.

  What she must do was keep reminding herself that she was wearing rubber boots. Even on a beautiful horse ranch, you could step in manure.

  After the boys were tucked in, Dom came back downstairs almost reluctantly. He’d been aware all day of Courtney’s presence on the ranch, the presence of a woman in the empty space left by Mary’s absence.

  It made him uneasy. He’d gott
en used to living alone, living with hours of silence, living without companionship. And, whether he wanted to think about it or not, he felt guilty for being so aware of Courtney. Logically he knew that life went on, that he was just a man, and a man had needs. Logically he knew that Mary wouldn’t want him to live out his life alone.

  Hell, she’d even told him so before she shipped out. He hadn’t wanted her to speak the words, had even tried to stop her, but she’d insisted on saying them anyway. “If anything happens to me, Dom, you’ve got to move on. For yourself and for the twins.”

  But his heart told a different story, as if the mere act of noticing that Courtney was a woman, a too-skinny woman even, was a betrayal of Mary.

  Talk about a screwed-up head.

  Right now he couldn’t even summon a work-related excuse to escape into his office or escape to the barn. No, he worked so hard to avoid thinking that sometimes he couldn’t come up with a single thing left to do.

  Tonight was one of those nights. The paperwork was all up to date, the horses had been taken care of, the dogs fed, the dishes done. He didn’t even need to clean, since he’d already washed down the tub and bathroom after bathing the boys.

  And maybe the real thing that troubled him was the fear that if he sat down with Courtney he might learn that she had discovered something today, something that supported her theory that Mary had been murdered.

  Right now he wasn’t sure he could handle that.

  Courtney sat in the living room on the sofa where he’d left her, cup of coffee on the table at her elbow. She appeared wan, he realized, as if she wasn’t any less tired or any more happy about this situation than he was.

  That made him uncomfortable, and it took him a minute to realize what was going on: he liked having her here. He liked the distraction, the awareness that he was still a man.

  Mentally he swore some words he would never speak in the presence of the boys, and wondered if he was going off his rocker or something.

  The only thing that should be concerning him was whether Courtney had found out something.

  The words escaped his mouth before he knew they were coming. “Did you find out anything?”

  “No.”

  “Much more to look at?”

  She sighed, and he saw a glimmer of his own grief in her face. “Yes. Unfortunately. If it won’t kill you to have me around another day.”

  “Won’t kill me.” Hardly that. Maybe having her around for a few days would make him face up to some stuff it suddenly occurred to him that he’d been avoiding. Stuff like maybe he needed to get on with a life apart from horses and the boys, just like Mary had told him.

  Maybe his hermitage was comfortable for him, but judging by the way Kyle and Todd chattered at Courtney, it wasn’t enough for them. Heck, they’d even wanted her to read them a bedtime story, a request he’d nipped upstairs because he wasn’t sure he wanted them to have that intimacy with her. After all, she was moving on.

  And maybe he was being terribly unfair to his sons. That caused a shaft of guilt to hit him in the gut. Here he thought he was protecting them and caring for them, when maybe he was cutting them off from things they just naturally needed.

  He wouldn’t do that to his horses. Was he doing that to his sons?

  Slowly he settled into the easy chair facing her and tried to think of how to deal with all of this. Find a way, any way, into a conversation that might help him, or his kids, or her. Anybody.

  “What exactly are you looking for?” he asked her.

  “Names. Maybe faces in videos. Somebody had to be close enough to figure out that she’d found something.”

  “If she found something.”

  “If,” Courtney agreed. “But I can’t think of any other reason she wanted to meet with me. Once she started working for us, we pretty much stayed apart unless we came together in the usual course of things.”

  “So you’re not like a secret agent or something.”

  “I’m not undercover, no. Not usually. And I knew Mary for a while before this issue ever came up. No reason to be unnecessarily covert. We’d already established a friendship that a number of people knew about.”

  He nodded slowly, taking in the information, trying to imagine how things must have been for Mary. He’d probably always wonder. She never talked much about Iraq, not about the ugly stuff anyway. Like she was protecting him.

  “Once,” he said slowly, “I tried to get her to talk about what it was like over there. She told me that when she came home on leave she wanted to recharge, not relive.”

  Courtney nodded. “I can hear her saying that. She had a gift, didn’t she, for looking forward.”

  “Yup. How did you two meet?”

  “Oh, I was at her hospital. There’d been an accusation from someone in supply that medical stuff was disappearing and unaccounted for. And since the Marine Corps, and by extension the navy, supplied the hospital, I was one of the people tasked to look into it.”

  “I thought she was at an army hospital.”

  “Not exactly. Units from different branches of service share the same bases and use the same facilities a lot. Everybody’s got their own share of the job to do, but redundancy is expensive. Especially in hospitals. So, yes, her Guard unit was stationed there, but the hospital was being shared by everyone, and staffed by everyone. Anyway, when it came time to ask her about procedures and if she was aware of anyone stealing supplies, she gave me both barrels.”

  Dom chuckled. “She would do that.”

  “She asked me if I was an insurance company, wanting them to account for every roll of gauze, every bandage, every aspirin.”

  Another chuckle escaped Dom. He could actually hear Mary speaking those words.

  “Anyway,” Courtney continued, “she told us in no uncertain terms that everything was being used in treatment, that sometimes they gave supplies to Iraqi medical people who were desperate, and that if we wanted to know where all that stuff was going, we needed to be there when they brought in the next load of casualties.”

  “Were you?”

  “Yes. Sadly. And we didn’t have to come back to do it. We were still there investigating when it happened. After what we saw, we went back and reported that nothing was being stolen, everything was being used. And it was, Dom. I don’t know what annoyed that supply guy into making a complaint. All he had to do was leave his office and walk next door to the trauma center. The place was chaos, medical supplies were being used and discarded in huge quantities just to stabilize the patients. I don’t know.”

  Her smoky blue gaze grew distant. “Maybe it griped him that they were treating civilians, too. If there were a lot of casualties, after they took care of their own patients, they’d grab supplies and head out to nearby Iraqi hospitals to help. It was humanitarian work, and we put in our report that in this instance they needed to call off the bean counters. Winning hearts and minds. That was part of the mission. And Mary was…well, Mary was a pure humanitarian.”

  “Sometimes,” Dom said, hating to even admit it, “I’m glad she won’t have to live with those memories.”

  “You should be glad,” Courtney said. “If there’s one blessing in any of this, it’s that she won’t have to live with that past. As good as she was, as kind as she was, she’d still have to live with the nightmare. I didn’t see nearly as much of it as she did, and I still have nightmares.”

  He fixed his attention on her, realizing that she wasn’t just some cop who had known Mary, a cop trying to do a job he wasn’t yet sure he wanted her to do. In her own way, she was a vet, too. And she was a vet on a mission, whether he liked it or not. He had to respect that.

  Damned if he didn’t feel she needed some time to wind down. Coming out here like this had been a desperate act, he realized. Not knowing how she would be received, risking her career if it became known what she was doing, all because she couldn’t let a desert ghost rest.

  And that desert ghost had been his wife.

  He sighe
d, struggling again against a torrent of emotions he’d tried to put in some isolated part of his heart simply because he had to get on with things, had to take care of two boys, couldn’t afford to give in or give up.

  She was stirring all that up because she couldn’t lock it away as he had.

  “You got any family?” he asked.

  “Just my mother. We get together once or twice a year.”

  Maybe that explained a lot, especially about her job, which was driving her into a dangerous place. Not necessarily physically. He couldn’t see any reason she should be in physical danger…unless those folks who’d been telling her to drop it might feel she was a threat.

  For an instant his heart almost stopped. Had it occurred to her that whoever had killed Mary might come after her, too, if she seemed like a threat?

  But then he dismissed the thought. She surely must have considered the possibility, and she’d said she was out here without telling anyone. No reason anyone should care where she took her vacation.

  And whatever had happened had happened two years ago, just another atrocity among thousands and thousands of atrocities caused by war. However much dust and dirt she kicked up, she was up against powers she couldn’t fight solo. What did seem likely to him was that she would merely put her own neck in a career noose and make him a whole lot less comfortable with what had happened to Mary.

  He’d been through hell since her death but the picture Courtney wanted to paint of what had happened presented a new version of hell. One he didn’t know if he could live with.

  He wasn’t great with people, but he was good with horses, and right now he felt like he was looking at a mare who was frightened, and flailing about as she tried to figure out the best way to respond to a goad. Goads were bad. He wouldn’t even swat a horse, and this woman looked as if she’d been swatted good.

  All he knew was the best way to handle a disturbed horse, and heading straight at the problem was often exactly the wrong way.

  “We’re going camping this weekend,” he remarked. “The boys asked if you could come.” They had, but he’d put them off, not wanting to deepen this relationship any. But that had been his immediate response. His secondary response was the one he always got around to sooner or later: help the horse.