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Authors: Mel Odom

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BOOK: Apocalypse Burning
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“I know what you’re talking about. I have little brothers.”

That surprised Megan. She hadn’t even thought about the possibility that Benbow had a family.
All of the children disappeared.

“How … how old are they?” Megan asked.

Benbow pursed his lips. “Neither of them disappeared, Megan. They’re twenty-two and seventeen.”

“Did you lose any family in this?” Megan didn’t know why she hadn’t already thought to ask.

“My mother.” Benbow took a deep breath and let it out. “My dad was up late watching a Lakers game when some of the players disappeared off the court. He went in to tell my mother, but she was gone.”

“I’m sorry.”

Benbow inclined his head. “Me too.”

“Have you been back home?”

“No.”

Megan gazed at him. “I don’t even know where you’re from.”

“Kansas. Coffeeville, Kansas.”

“You shouldn’t be here. You should go home. Your family needs you. You need to deal with everything that’s happened.”

“I am dealing with it,” Benbow said. “I talk to my dad nearly every day. My two younger brothers are with him. I know he’s all right. Just hurting.” He swallowed. “We’re all hurting.”

“You should be there.”

“You need me here.”

“There are other legal counsels.”

Benbow looked at her with a half smile. “Would you prefer another legal counsel?”

“No,” Megan said. “I was just pointing out that there are others who could take your place while you took care of your family.”

“My dad and my brothers are quite capable of taking care of themselves.”

“But you need some closure too, Doug. You need to go home and see that your mother isn’t there.”

“I will, Megan.” Benbow pursed his lips. “I will soon enough.” His voice caught. “But you’re wrong about there being other legal counsels for you.”

Megan looked at him.

“Nobody wanted this assignment when I got it,” Benbow said. “I was the new guy, and it was going to be my first turn in the barrel. My commanding officer thought it would be a good idea for me to work this case, get a taste of losing so I’d know what that felt like and develop a taste for winning.”

“He thought you would lose?”

Benbow nodded. “Yes. Most of the counsels—” he stopped himself and smiled wryly—“
all
of the counsels still think I’ll lose. That
we’ll
lose.”

Cold and scared suddenly, Megan wrapped her arms around herself. “And what do you think?”

“I think I’ve met a wonderful woman—a counselor, a mother, and a wife—who is just going through a truly staggering run of bad luck,” Benbow said.

Megan looked at him. “I’m not making things up, Doug. I’m not imagining things. Your mother did not come undone like some Etch a Sketch figure. My son did not come undone like some Etch a Sketch figure. I will never accept that.”

Benbow regarded her. “No, ma’am. I can see that you won’t.”

“There’s a reason for all of this,” Megan said.

Benbow looked uncomfortable. “Unfortunately, Megan, I can’t put God on the stand and have Him testify that Gerry Fletcher is missing because He chose to rapture that boy a few days ago. God is not on trial.
You
are.”

Megan was silent, and the fear that filled her chewed in a little more deeply. “We don’t have much of a defense, do we?”

Releasing a heavy sigh, Benbow shook his head. “No. Most of the stuff we could combat the provost marshal’s office with is going to work against you as well as for you. A lot of it we won’t even be able to introduce into the court. The bottom line is that you were derelict in your duty. You were, by law, supposed to notify the parents that their son was in the hospital.”

Megan nodded, feeling the hope inside her dwindle.

“The only thing I hope to be able to use is the fact that Private Boyd Fletcher, while inebriated, fought with two MPs in the hospital so fiercely that both men had to receive hospital treatment. If I handle it right, I might be able to color the jury with the opinion that his condition, at that time of night, was about the usual.”

“How are you going to prove that?”

Reaching down beside the desk, Benbow lifted up an expandable portfolio. “I’ve got over four dozen statements from soldiers who were at the bars Private Fletcher liked to frequent. There was hardly a bar that Private Fletcher did
not
frequent.”

Megan was amazed at the thick sheaf of papers inside the folder. “I didn’t know that.”

Benbow held up a hand. “No. That is not what I want to hear you say up on that witness stand. Did you know that Private Fletcher had a drinking problem?”

“Yes. His drinking and his ability to handle it are noted in some of my files.”

“Along with anger-management issues he had?”

“Yes.”

Benbow referred to his notes. “Those anger-management problems generally took place at night?”

“Yes.”

“Would it surprise you to know, Mrs. Gander, that the army has records of Private Fletcher’s instances of out-of-control drinking as well as his anger-management issues?”

“No.”

“In fact,” Benbow said in a professional voice, “I believe as counselor for young Gerry Fletcher, you had access to those files.”

“Some of them.” Megan smiled a little as she watched the young officer work. He seemed to grow more confident as he went.

“The ones that reported the incidents of Private Fletcher’s reprimands for being drunk and disorderly in military bars as well as civilian bars? The same reports that were no doubt used in Private Fletcher’s court martials that busted him down in rank twice.”

“Yes.”

“Did you notice the times recorded in those reports for those problems Private Fletcher had?”

“No,” Megan said, thinking back.

Benbow flipped to a new sheet of paper in the legal pad. “All right. We definitely have a problem with that question. But that’s okay. I can work around it.” He finished a quick notation. “Mrs. Gander, could you look at these reports and tell me if the incidents of public drunkenness and fighting took place in the morning or evening?” He smiled. “At this point, you will tell me that they took place in the evening. I know because I looked through every record.”

Megan looked at the folder. “That’s a lot of work.”

Giving her a tired smile, Benbow said, “I told you I believe in you, Megan. When I haven’t been with you or been on the phone with you, I’ve spent every minute on this case. We’re still going to have a tough time getting the willful dereliction-of-duty charge past a military jury, but Boyd Fletcher is his own worst enemy, and I intend to show that. He’s not going to get a free ride through that trial.”

“That’s still not going to erase the fact that I was derelict,” Megan pointed out.

“No, but maybe I can build you in some sympathy. If I can get you off with a light reprimand at this point, I’ll be happy. And I trust that you will too.”

Megan didn’t like the idea, but she nodded so she wouldn’t take anything away from Benbow’s efforts.

“I’ve been digging into Tonya Fletcher’s history too,” Benbow said. “Did you know she had a habit of turning the phone off at night?”

“No.”

“You never called her at night?”

“No. I always contacted Private Fletcher through his cell phone.” Megan thought for a moment. “I called her that night, though.”

Frowning, Benbow asked, “What night?”

“The night Gerry disappeared.”

“You’re sure?”

Megan nodded. “I called her twice.”

“And she answered?”

“Yes.”

Benbow made another notation. “That’s too bad. I would have loved to show that Tonya Fletcher never answered her phone at night so you couldn’t have reached her even if you’d tried.” He finished writing and looked up. “Why did you always contact Private Fletcher regarding Gerry?”

“Gerry’s file requested that the father be called first. Tonya signed the agreement.”

“Is that unusual?”

“It’s not unheard of.”

“So you knew that if you called you’d definitely get Private Fletcher?”

“As long as he answered his phone.”

“Good. That will work for us. Knowing that you’d be talking to Private Fletcher and that he was probably drinking at that time of night, I think the jury will understand your hesitation—and the hospital’s hesitation—about making that call. We’re going to go into that courtroom looking pretty good. If we could somehow negate the question of dereliction of duty, maneuver things so I put your record up against Private Fletcher’s, I think I could probably get you a Purple Heart for dealing with that jerk.” Benbow sighed. “But we’re not going to be able to do that. All I can do is hope to soften the edges a little.” He glanced at the television he’d muted and saw the interview with Penny Gillespie again. “With as much airtime as this is getting, maybe it will help pull in some more public support. You’ve got a lot of Christians in the military.”


Had
them,” Megan said, thinking of Bill Townsend and how he was gone.

Benbow looked at her. “There are still a lot of us, Megan. Those of us left, we just didn’t pass muster the first time. But we will the next time.”

Despite her fears, Megan smiled. “Maybe you weren’t as disbelieving as you acted.”

Smiling, Benbow shook his head. “No. My mother was a good woman, Megan. If anybody went to heaven when all those disappearances took place, she did. Now I’ve just got to work on getting right with God myself, believing and trusting so I get to see her. If I don’t, she’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

Megan laughed a little, and the release of emotion brought tears to her eyes. She was beginning to feel like everything was going to be all right.

The desk phone rang. Benbow picked the handset up and spoke his name. Then he listened for a while. All the levity left his features. He said thanks to whoever was on the other end of the line and hung up.

“There’s been a change in plans,” Benbow stated grimly.

“What?”

“Major Trimble has taken it upon himself, at General Braddock’s insistence I’d bet, to take the position of opposing counsel during the trial.” Benbow looked at his notes.

“Is that going to be a problem?”

Benbow paused a moment before speaking. “Major Trimble is a ranking officer. He’s got a lot of history here at this fort and probably with the men and women who will make up the jury. They’re going to weigh everything he says in his favor. In addition to that, he’s the head chaplain, which creates some tension with the interview you just did with Penny Gillespie and her religious program.” He sighed and locked his hands behind his head as he looked down at his notes with regret. “Yeah. I’d say this is going to be a problem.”

United States of America
Fort Benning, Georgia
Local Time 2223 Hours

“Jenny! Phone!”

Roused from fitful slumber, Jenny woke in one of the living-room chairs and glanced at the time on the cable box on the television across the room. When she saw the time, she remembered Megan was in a meeting with Lieutenant Benbow.

“Phone,” Casey Schmidt called again. She hovered near the phone and seemed to have an almost psychic ability about when it was going to ring.

Jenny walked to the kitchen and took the cordless handset from the girl. Jenny covered the mouthpiece. “Who is it?”

The girl shrugged and continued dealing cards. “I didn’t ask. He didn’t say.” She wrinkled her nose. “Whoever it is, he sounds like he really has a problem.”

Reluctantly, Jenny pulled the phone to her ear. Since Megan’s interview on Dove TV had aired, the Gander phone line had blazed with activity.

“Hello,” Jenny said.

“Hey, girlie,” Jackson McGrath greeted in his whiskey-roughened voice.

“Dad.” Jenny’s heart plummeted. “You’re drunk.” The words were out of her mouth before she even knew she’d thought them. She instantly felt guilty. The last few days of stress and helping out were really taking their toll on her. Now, with Megan’s trial starting in the morning and all the attention from the media people regarding Penny Gillespie’s interview, the stress levels had cranked up.

BOOK: Apocalypse Burning
11.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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