Harm’s Apartment
North of Union Station
After dropping Mac at the Airport
Taking another swig of beer, Harm put his feet up on the table as he settled back on the couch. He leaned his head
back and thought one more time about the Marine he had just dropped at Dulles.
She was amazing. For someone who had had the difficult life she had led, faced the problems she had conquered, she
was totally amazing. She was sexy as hell, smart as a whip, and could kick his six. He allowed his thoughts to
drift back through the whole weekend, the weekend where his life had changed so drastically.
Even now, he was not sure what had precipitated his actions on Friday night. He had just been swept away on a
current, and had not been able to stop. And thank God, she had responded. He took another swig of beer as he
grinned to himself. Boy, had she ever responded. Nothing in his wildest fantasies had prepared him for the reality
of Mac, his Sarah, in bed. Or out of it, he thought with a smirk. She had always seemed so…so…he struggled for
the correct adjective for a moment…proper.
He knew about her past, not all of it, but enough to know it was a wild past. But she had always seemed to be so
buttoned down, so in control, as if the passionate side of her nature was not even present any more. He’d made that
crack about being in control to her on the Admiral’s porch that night at her engagement party, but he really thought
she was more in control then he was.
When he had first met her, he’d been taken aback by her cool demeanor. He never had trouble “warming” women up,
winning them over to his side. From the first moment, she’d held back. She hadn’t trusted him when he was trying
to help her Uncle Matt; he’d had to fight for every little step forward with her. She’d never backed down, never
given in. And except for one small slip in Columbia, she’d never given a hint that she’d ever even given a thought
to him as a man...
Unlike his previous partners. Kate and he had a tempestuous relationship, but he had always known that he had the
ultimate word. And Meg, as sweet as she was, was almost like a little sister to him. He’d known that she had hoped
for a more familiar relationship with him, but he had had no interest that way. He had respected and liked her;
she’d looked up to him. But Mac…Mac had had her own mind and had never hesitated to voice her thoughts or act on
them, with or without his consent or approval. And no amount of arguing or disapproval from him stopped her.
He laughed to himself as he thought about the times she’d fought with him, sobering quickly as he thought about the
times he had almost lost her. On the Watertown, when his own refusal to acknowledge her abilities almost cost them
their lives. He shuddered as he remembered frantically feeling for her pulse and administering mouth to mouth.
The relief of hearing her cough, of holding her close while she struggled for breath.
And the psychotic poachers in the mountains. He’d almost lost her then too, but her courage and toughness had
astounded him. Coster, Ragle, and Russia. Twice. It hit him hard, all of the sudden. There had been so many
times he could have lost her. And that’s just the ways he could have lost her in life. He could have lost her
emotionally so many times. Lowne the clown. Bugme.
Not to mention how he got involved in relationships himself. Annie hadn’t lasted long. Mac, even when she was
drunk, had been right about her. Annie had once been a strong, vital woman, but the loss of her husband had
changed her. She really had been neurotic. He had to admit he hadn’t helped the situation when he took Josh
on that Tiger cruise. Annie had had every right to leave him.
But except for that one remark, Mac had always treated the other woman in his life with respect. (Unlike you, his
conscience reminded him. He’d always given her a hard time about the men in her life. Jealousy rearing it’s ugly
head.) She’d been kind to Annie. And she had actually made friends with Jordan. When Mac told him what Jordan
had said to her, you could have knocked him for a loop. He was Jordan’s until Mac decided she wanted him. He
still couldn’t believe that.
And let’s not forget Renee. The Video Princess, as Mac had once dubbed her. Those two women had had very little
in common, but Mac had been gracious enough to say she’d been good for him, which in a way she had been. The
biggest problem he’d had with her was that she wasn’t Mac.
But his biggest mistake with Mac had been Australia. Sighing, he took another long drink of his beer. Not even
his leaving to return to flying had done that much damage. If he’d understood what she was thinking, or made her
understand why he wasn’t ready to let go, that trip might have ended a whole lot better than it did. She’d covered
the hurt well that night. He’d actually been relieved that she seemed to understand what he meant without him
having to spell it out. Until she showed up with Bugme’s ring on her hand.
He’d tried to busy himself with Renee. He’d tried to keep his distance, and for the most part had succeeded, a
little too well. He’d ended up hurting Renee, unable to commit to her. And he’d almost lost Mac completely. As
strange as it sounded, he was glad he’d had that dip in the ocean. Without that little accident, there was not
telling where Mac might be now. Probably married to Bugme.
At that thought he got up. Going to the kitchen, he threw the now empty bottle of beer away. He’d caused her so
much hurt. And she still loved him. A thrill went through him. Sarah Mackenzie loved him. And now, finally,
she was his and he was hers. And if he had anything to say about it, it was going to stay that way.
Turning around, he noticed a pile of red silk near the couch. He went over and picked it up, the delicate fabric
sliding through his fingers as he played with it. Mac had looked so fabulous in this dress. And even better out
of it. He smiled again at the thought of his Marine, so proper on the outside, so sensual on the inside. God, he
was one lucky bastard. He hoped she’d call soon.
North Island Naval Air Station
San Diego
Enlisted Quarters
Thursday
1800 Local
Mac lifted the phone for her daily check in with Harm. Because of the 3-hour time difference, he was usually at
home, which meant the conversation could take a more personal tone. She really looked forward to these nightly
phone calls; they were the highpoint of her day.
As she dialed the familiar number, Mac tried to control her frustration with this assignment. It was not going
well. She had not managed to even get a sniff of a lead, and to top it off the officer in charge of the Naval
Logistics Center apparently didn’t like her. Hopefully her call to Harm would eliminate some of that frustration.
Disappointed when she reached his voicemail, she nevertheless summoned as cheerful a tone as she could manage to
leave a message. “Hey Flyboy, sorry I missed you. This is my daily check in call.” Unable to stop herself, she
let a small sigh slip out. “There is really nothing new to report. I’m still stuck doing all the backlogged
filing, and Lieutenant Commander Benton still doesn’t like me.” Somehow just leaving a message for her sailor
cheered her up, and she managed a little laugh. “Hard to believe, isn’t it? That someone wouldn’t like
wonderful me?”
Then she remembered she wasn’t going to be able to talk to him tonight. “I guess I have to tell you I’m going out
with one of the girls from the warehouse, Petty Officer Linda Charles. She’s been working here for over a year, and
is the one person who’s been kinda friendly. I’m hoping to get something out of her tonight. Maybe she knows
something that might give me a lead. I probably won’t call you back tonight; it will be so late in Washington
when I get home. I love you, Flyboy, and I really miss you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, I hope.”
She hung up, wondering where he was. He was usually waiting for her call. She thought about trying his cell, but
didn’t want to seem like she was chasing him down. He was allowed to go out, after all, and she trusted him. She
just wanted to talk to him, but was afraid to seem too clingy.
With another sigh, she started to get ready for her evening out with her new friend.
Harm’s Apartment
North of Union Station
2115 Local
Harm rushed into his apartment, hoping he would catch Mac’s phone call. He’d been working late with Sturgis on a
case and it had run over. When the time for her call arrived he was already speeding home, but he knew it was
already too late. Mac always called at 2100 on the button.
He hit the message button on his machine and listened, deleting the one from a long distance company soliciting
his business, skipping one from Harriet (he’d listen later), and finally settled on Mac’s message. His heart
ached with sympathy when she started talking. He knew she was putting on a cheerful front, but could fell the
frustration behind the words. Then he focused tightly; she was going out? He relaxed slightly as he realized
she was going out for a lead, and it was a woman. Then he smiled when she said she loved him and missed him.
He could hear the unspoken question there, loud and clear. Where the hell are you?
He picked up the phone, hoping to catch her before she went out. She picked up on the second ring.
“Hello?” His heart jumped a little when he heard her voice, he felt like a teenager again, calling for his first
date. Damn, she got to him like no one else ever had.
“So marine, you’re already going out? You’re not going ‘looking for a few good men’, are you?” His voice was
teasing, he knew her better than that.
“Harm!” The pleasure in her voice sent another thrill through him. “Yeah, Flyboy. You know us marines, always
on the prowl.” She gave his teasing right back to him.
“Hmmm, maybe I should just make a trip out there. It seems you still haven’t learned your place, woman.” He
assumed the “caveman” tone for the last sentence.
She giggled at his play, and then her voice changed to the husky tone that sent his heart into overdrive. “Maybe
you should make a trip out here. I could be persuaded to learn where my place is.”
Deciding to change the subject before he got in too deep, he asked. “So why didn’t you call me on my cell? I was
working late with Sturgis and couldn’t get home in time for your call.”
There was a short embarrassed silence on her end. “Well…uh…I didn’t want you to think I was hunting you down. I
didn’t have anything new to report on the case, and…well…I didn’t want you to think I was like Renee, always chasing
you down…” her voice trailed away. God, she was mortified.
“Mac…” His deep soothing voice calmed her. “You are nothing like Renee, thank God. Don’t you get it? I want you
to hunt me down. I want you to throw a screaming fit if you’re not happy with me, and I definitely want you to feel
free to ask me questions.”
She answered without thinking. “But Mic never liked…” She stopped abruptly, horrified that she had even mentioned
Mic’s name. “I’m sorry Harm; I didn’t mean to bring him up, really. I just…” Again her voice faded; she felt like
she was just making things worse. Mic had never liked her to question him, he just did his thing and expected her
to accept it and like it, but she should have realized Harm was not like that.
He was unprepared for her nervous reply. Surprised, he realized that Mac was actually afraid. Of what, he wasn’t
sure, but he was damn sure going to find out. Inwardly he cursed her Father, and every man in her life that had
made her insecure, especially Brumby. With the benefit of hindsight, he realized that Brumby had managed to play
on all her insecurities, manipulating her into what he wanted. The silence lengthened as all this ran through his
mind, and he was brought back to the conversation when she called his name.
“Harm? I’m sorry, really. Please don’t be…”
“Sarah, please don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.” With all his heart he wished he was with her,
that he could take her in his arms and soothe her. “You don’t have to be afraid, baby. It’s OK to mention Mic’s
name, or anybody else’s. But I’m not him. Whatever he or anybody else liked or didn’t like, you need to know that
I want you to be free to express your concerns. I’m not going anywhere. There might be a time when I get mad, but
if I do, you stick to your guns and we’ll argue it out. This can’t work if we don’t. I love you, but I’m not
perfect. I’m sure at some point I’ll do something you don’t like, and you have to be free to call me on it.”
Another short silence as she considered what he said. “You’re sure you’re not perfect?” She’d tried for a sarcastic
tone to lighten the mood, but it came out more sentimentally. She hated to admit it, but in her eyes he really was
perfect; everything she’d ever wanted in a man. And he’d just proved it to her again.
“Well, modesty prevents me from claiming perfection. But I will remind you of this conversation when the time is
right.” He caught her attempt to lighten up, and was glad to go that way. For now. Later, when they were together
and he could hold her, he’d bring it up again.
Laughing finally, she went back to the banter that had been so much a part of their relationship. “I’m sure I’ll
have a memory block about that. Don’t try me, Squid.” Then, a little more seriously, “I love you Harm. I
really do.”
He answered her seriously as well. “I love you, baby, and I miss you. It’s lonely here without you.” Then he
tried to make her laugh again, knowing how hard it was to be away from everything. “And Singer is picking on me.
You have to hurry back to protect me.”
“I’ll be back soon to shield you, sweet cakes. You can count on it.”
“Sweet cakes? Did you just call me sweet cakes?” Stifling a laugh, he tried to make his voice outraged.
“Oh sorry Flyboy. That’s just what I always call you in my head. I didn’t mean to say it out loud.” He could
hear a stifled giggle as she teased him.
“See that you don’t. I’m way too manly for that nickname. You can just think of another, missy.”
“Snookums? Honeypie? How about my little snuggle bear?”
“Mac! Stop! I never knew you had a sadistic side. I can see that you really ARE in need of a lesson about
learning your place. Hurry up and come home.”
“I’m trying, Flyboy. I’m looking forward to that lesson.”
There was another silence, both of them knowing they needed to hang up, but not wanting to break the connection
between them. Finally she spoke up reluctantly. “I’ve got to go, Harm. Linda will be here in 14 minutes, and
I still have to finish changing.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Mac, at the usual time.” He used his command voice for the next statement. “And if
I’m not home, call me on my cell. That’s an order, marine.”
“Yes Sir. I will be in touch.” Her voice softened. “I’ll be sure and check my watch for the time. I’m counting
the minutes till I get home.”
Smiling, he answered her just as softly. “So will I, baby. So will I.”
The Sea Snail Bar
San Diego
1 hour later
Mac looked her friend over. Linda was a pretty girl, about 22, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was the first
person that Mac had made friends with. Unlike most places where she had been stationed, the Naval Logistics Center
was a place where people tried to mind their own business and keep to themselves. Linda was practically the only
one that had been a little friendly.
Commander Benton, who was the CO of NLC, made sure it was run strictly and professionally. There was no horseplay
or camaraderie. Most of the personnel were enlisted, but a few officers were also assigned there. The officers
kept strict professional bounds in place at all times, and the enlisted people took their cue from them.
Linda had been a little reserved at first, but had warmed up quickly to Mac; giving details about her life, her
loves, and family. Tonight, however, she seemed down, though she tried to cover it. They had only been there
32 minutes, but Linda was on her third drink.
“Linda, don’t you think you should slow down a little? I mean, the evening's young. You don’t have to do all your
drinking in the first hour.” Mac was trying to keep it light, but she was concerned about her. Linda seemed to be
drinking to avoid something, and Mac was all too familiar with the pitfalls of that particular path.
Linda laughed and took another sip of her drink. “Don’t worry, I can handle it. But you haven’t even had one.
What’s the problem?”
“I don’t drink. Besides, from the looks of things I’m the designated driver.” Not about to give away her problem
if she could help it, Mac played it off.
It was a nice bar, as bars go. Dark, with music playing lightly in the background. They were sitting in a booth.
Linda had said sitting at the bar was like an open invitation to be hit on. Mac had agreed, not anxious to fend
off romantic overtures from drunken sailors.
Linda was quiet for a moment as she stared into her drink. “Sarah, have you ever had to compromise? Give
up an idea?”
“I’m not sure exactly what you’re asking. Of course I’ve had to compromise and give up on some things. You
learn to do those things when you become an adult. Why do you ask?” It was obvious Linda wanted to talk about
something that was bothering her, but she was going to have to be a lot more direct than that.
“Well…I…I’ve been stationed at NLC for 6 months. Before that, I was very happy in the Navy, felt like I was
contributing something to my country, especially after 9/11. But since I’ve been here…” her voice trailed away.
Mac waited for a minute, giving her time to collect her thoughts. “What is it, Linda? What’s wrong?”
Linda’s blue eyes met Mac’s for a minute before sliding away. “It’s just…” she broke into a short bitter laugh.
“It’s not what I thought it was going to be.” Mac could swear that she changed the statement at the last minute.
Mac laughed too, trying to make Linda relax and talk. “Well, it really isn’t the most exciting work. All I’ve
done is file. Who knew joining the Navy was going to be all paperwork?” She paused; thinking about all the
paperwork her JAG position called for. “But it’s still important, Linda. We make sure the ships in the Pacific
theatre get everything they need. Hell, if it weren’t for the aircraft parts we supply, they wouldn’t even be
able to fly those planes.”
At her mention of aircraft parts, Linda’s head shot up and her eyes met Mac’s again. Mac had thrown that in
deliberately, fishing for information. It looked like Linda knew something. Whether or not she could get Linda
to confide in her was another matter.
“Yeah, well…you know Commander Benton, right?” Linda sounded nervous.
“Of course.” With all her might, Mac tried to convey strength and support.
“He…uh…well, just be careful around him, OK?” Linda appeared to chicken out at the last minute.
Mac put her hand over Linda’s. “Linda, is he bothering you? You can tell me anything. Maybe I can help.” Mac
didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Maybe Linda had a problem that was not related to her assignment.
“Not like that. Look, it’s too hard to explain. Just trust me on this, and stay away from. As far as you can.”
Linda’s eyes looked tortured, breaking Mac’s heart. “I can’t say more than that.” She withdrew her hand from Mac’s.
Mac had no choice but to accept her words. For now. It might take her a few days, but she would get to the heart
of Linda’s problem. Instinct told her Linda could be very helpful in solving her case. Hopefully, she could help
Linda at the same time.
“All right, Linda. I’ll try, but you know he is the CO. If he says jump, I’ve got to jump
as hard and as high as I can. Just like everybody else. Maybe if you told me what this was about, it would help
me.” Mac made one last try.
“Let’s go home, Sarah. I don’t feel good all the sudden.” Linda stood up and picked up her purse. She gave Mac
the keys to her car. “You drive; I’ve had a little too much to drink.”
Mac took the keys and stood up as well, conceding defeat for the moment. “All right. Let’s go.”
Mac drove a silent Linda home. She walked Linda up to her door. “Are you going to be OK? Do you need anything?”
Linda shook her head sadly. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you at work in the morning. G’night Sarah.”
“Good night Linda. Sleep well.”
Mac walked to her own door, trying to make sense of everything Linda talked about. She wished she could call Harm,
but it was too late.
Naval Logistics Center
Friday
0930 Local
Mac was worried as she finished up the last of the backlogged filing. Linda was supposed to report to work at 0800,
but hadn’t shown up. There had been no word from her. She had tried to call Linda twice, but there was no answer at
Linda’s apartment.
“Chief Miles! Have you heard from PO Charles this morning? She was supposed to be in at 0800!” Commander Benton’s
voice was sharp. He was a big man, obviously a weight lifter. If he were only friendlier, he might actually be
considered handsome.
Mac stood at attention immediately. “No Sir.”
“Well let me know immediately if you hear from her. Understood?”
“Yes Sir.”
Benton looked her over carefully, as if appraising her capabilities. “Have you done anything but file since you’ve
been here?”
“No Sir.”
“Well, it looks like you’re going to learn something new today. Follow me. I wanted PO Charles, but you’ll do.”
He quickly showed Mac what he wanted. Receiving documents were received all day in the warehouses as supplies
were delivered. These documents needed to be entered into the computers along with the bin locations in the
warehouse, then matched with the appropriate requisition forms. A tedious job, but one that had to be kept up
with daily. To fall behind in that was to risk chaos.
Mac began on the papers, wishing she could go to Linda’s apartment and check on her. Linda said she wasn’t
feeling well last night, but Mac had a gut feeling that something worse had happened.
1320 Local
Mac pulled up and parked her car outside the enlisted quarters. Almost apprehensively, she looked up at the second
floor where Linda’s apartment was located. She had tried to call her several times this morning, all to no avail;
an answering machine picked up.
Commander Benton had not reported Linda as UA, surprising her. “Just giving her a chance to come in on her own,
Chief. I will discipline her as I see fit, she doesn’t need this on her record.”
Mac had only replied, “Yes Sir”. This seemed out of character for the Commander, but Mac didn’t know him well enough
to be sure. His record was not outstanding, but certainly didn’t show any excess of prosecuting personnel under his
command. His former postings were mostly stateside in some type of warehouse management, with 2 excursions on a
battleship in the Mediterranean when he was a lieutenant jg.
He had refused her request to go check Linda’s apartment brusquely. “She’s probably just oversleeping, Chief.
She’ll show up soon, hungover. She’s done it before. And I need you here. With PO Charles absent, I need you
to pick up the slack.” Without the benefit of her rank and position at JAG to back her up, there was nothing she
could do without blowing her cover.
Her answer of “Yes Sir” had rung in her ears, branding her a traitor to her friend in her eyes, but she didn’t know
what else to do. Her hands were tied. She decided to use her lunch hour to check on Linda.
Sighing, she exited her car and walked up the stairs to Linda’s apartment. Knocking at the door, she waited and
hoped Linda would come to the door, but there was nothing. Peering through the window revealed nothing as well,
the blinds were closed and she couldn’t see inside. Gingerly she tried the door, and found it unlocked.
An almost unbearable tension had come over her; she was terrified of what she was going to find. Desperately she
hoped her terrible foreboding was the result of nerves, and not the clairvoyant talent that had recently afflicted
her. True, it had allowed her to locate Chloe and Harm, but it had also left her with a terrible feeling when she
was unable to save the Commander who assisted on Russian Nuclear Arms Treaties. She had only been able to locate
the murderer. While there was a certain satisfaction in that, a more satisfactory ending would have been stopping
the murderer before he committed the act.
Taking a deep breath to fortify herself, she reminded herself that she was a marine, and opened the door. The
apartment was eerily quiet; the only sound was the ticking of a clock she could see in the living room. “Linda?
Are you home?” To Mac’s ears, her voice sounded unnaturally loud in the silent apartment.
No answer.
“Linda?” Slowly Mac stepped inside, scanning everywhere she could. All her senses were on overdrive now, alert to
the slightest sound or movement. There was still nothing except the ticking of the clock.
No lights were on, but there was enough light to see by in spite of the drawn blinds. Moving on, Mac scanned the
living room again and entered the kitchen area. Everything was neat and clean except for a dirty plate and glass
in the sink. She jumped when the refrigerator suddenly powered on, her heart leaping in alarm.
‘Settle down’ she told herself sternly. ‘Act like you have a spine.’ The layout of the apartment was the same as
the one Mac occupied. Cautiously she made her way down the hall towards the bedroom. The door was closed, and as
she neared it, her nerves were almost screaming at her.
“Linda?”
She pushed the door open with a trembling hand. It wasn’t latched. The door swung open soundlessly. “Linda, are
you here?” She felt like an idiot calling out repeatedly, but couldn’t seem to stop herself. The tension and fear
for her friend were definitely getting to her. She cursed herself silently for being a coward.
Her heart beating loudly in her ears, she took a careful step inside the bedroom. The bed wasn’t made. Linda’s
clothes from the previous evening were thrown carelessly on a chair, but her uniform was hung up and hanging from
the closet door.
Mac couldn’t bring herself to call out again. With a sinking feeling of dread, she saw the half-closed bathroom
door and had to steel herself to continue. A shaft of light was shining softly from the bathroom, and suddenly she
a cold sweat break out on her forehead. She knew what she was going to find.
Walking as steadily as she could, she crossed to the bathroom and pushed the door. This time the door opened with
a loud creak, making her jump. Her heart, already pounding, started doing double-time in her chest.
She smelled it before she saw it. The metallic, slightly rotten smell of the blood almost made her retch. She
realized that a slight scent must have been present throughout the apartment, and her subconscious had picked it
up, contributing to her nervous state.
Linda was in the bathtub, but it was full of blood. Her wrists were slit. Her eyes were open, but staring vacantly
into space; her skin was unnaturally white. If her expression revealed anything at all, Mac was unable to discern
it.
Mac didn’t rush to her side. There was no point; it was obvious Linda had been dead for some time.
“Oh Linda.” Mac choked back a sob.
For a moment she stood stock-still, unable to comprehend that this…this…person was the warm, friendly girl who
had befriended her. Numbly, she stood staring before her training kicked in.
Turning away, she whipped out her cell phone and called base security. The number was preprogrammed into her
phone, a precaution she took whenever she was undercover.
“Security. Gunnery Sergeant Rivera.”
“Gunny, this is Col…uh...Chief Petty Officer Miles. I am in PO Charles’s apartment, number 213A. I think
she’s committed suicide.”
“What? Is this some kind of joke?”
Shit. When this was over, she was going to have to pay a visit to Security and teach them how to deal with
problems. Trying to remain calm, she repeated the story again.
“OK Chief. Stay there. We’ll have a team there in a minute.”
After hanging up, Mac thought quickly about who else she should call. Harm, obviously, but he could wait. With
a sigh, she realized she had to make a call to Commander Benton. As Linda and her CO, she would have to report
it to him. It wouldn’t look good to ignore him.
Punching in the numbers for NLC, she waited impatiently for someone to answer. When she was finally transferred
to Commander Benton, her patience was rapidly ebbing, but she tried to control herself. Losing her cool with her
CO was not going to get her anywhere.
“Lieutenant Commander Benton here.”
“Commander, this is Chief Miles. I’m in PO Charles’s apartment Sir. It looks like she committed suicide.”
There was a short silence.
“Commander?”
“Have you notified security?” His voice was unemotional, cold.
“Yes Sir. They are on the way here.”
“I guess this means you have to wait for them. And they’ll want to get your statement, so you probably won’t be back
in here today.”
‘Damn him. Did he have no feelings?’ “I don’t know, Sir. I’m not sure of the procedure on this.” Actually, she
knew exactly what was going to happen, but she couldn’t let that out. The base JAG would conduct an investigation,
and would definitely be taking her statement after Security did. The scene would be taped off; evidence collected,
and finally Linda would be transferred to the morgue. Her final duty station. She blinked back the sudden tears.
“Keep me informed Chief. If you can’t get back here today, I will expect you to be on time tomorrow.”
“Yes Sir.” Damn, she was getting tired of saying that to this ass.
Snapping her phone closed again, she suddenly felt tired. And guilty. If she had only pushed Linda a little harder
last night, she might not have done this.
A thought struck her, and she went back to the bedroom and looked around carefully, not touching anything. Linda’s
uniform, ironed and hung up for work the next day. No note, no nothing. A suspicion entered Mac’s mind. One she
should have though of before.
She couldn’t believe Linda committed suicide. Thinking back over the previous evening, she decided Linda had been
upset, but not to the point of killing herself. There was something else going on here.
Someone had killed Linda. Someone who didn’t want her to talk, and made it look like a suicide.