Yellow Ribbons (16 page)

“Greg was with me.” Lani’s chin came up. “All night.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not all night. By your own admission, you arrived at the gym at the same time Regina Whittaker left. With his past—”

“Leave his past out of this,” she snapped. “He was a kid with a temper and an unfaithful wife just back from a war no one wanted. What the hell would you have done?”

“I would have at least let the woman I’m involved with now know about it.”

Another below-the-belt hit from Jordan.

“You don’t know shit, Beck.” Greg’s cell phone kept him from having to say anything more, not that he had much else to say. He yanked it from his pocket and checked caller ID. “Cornwall,” he told them and punched Talk. “Landess.”

“I couldn’t reach Captain Hollister. There’s been another murder. This time on base.”

For the first time in his military career, Greg hated his job. Hated that he had to shave and put the uniform on to trudge off in the night to respond to yet another murder, this time on base. That’s when he realized it was over. It was time to leave it all behind. He’d promised himself long ago that he’d retire when it stopped being rewarding. At this point, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt any satisfaction in the job. The only lure in staying the last six months had been seeing Lani.

He didn’t fool himself that meant they had a future together now that he’d decided to put in retirement papers. Lani’s career would be in jeopardy if they continued seeing each other. He remembered a similar case years ago. The couple had acknowledged their love months after the major had retired. His ex-wife complained of his having had an affair during his career, and command went after his new wife, a staff sergeant. Yes, there were other instances where people looked the other way. The current climate wouldn’t allow that. Greg didn’t want to risk hurting Lani. Hadn’t he hurt her enough tonight?

He followed Lani and Jordan onto base. Both had gotten similar calls once Greg told them what had happened. Lani had turned on her cell to find five voice mails. If there was a snippet of doubt left in Jordan’s mind over the nature of their relationship before, there wasn’t once Greg and Lani moved in sync around her house as they prepared to leave. Greg had a spare set of cammies in his car, but it was the extras at Lani’s house that helped tell on him—underwear, shaving gear, toothbrush—and he knew the house well. Little things that told so much.

Who was he kidding? He’d never see retirement. Once Jordan passed that tidbit up the chain of command, he and Lani were facing courts-martial. In any event, their relationship was over. He’d screwed up left and right tonight. Lani would never forgive the breach of trust. His heart didn’t want to believe it, but it wasn’t his heart he had to convince. It was Jordan. Maybe he could plead their case to him and get Jordan to cut them some slack. For the life of him, Greg didn’t know how he was going to get Jordan to budge. Didn’t know how he was going to survive without Lani in his life. If he stayed in the Marine Corps, he’d at least have the secret pleasure of seeing her, along with the agony of watching her move on. If he retired…nothing. Which was the bigger curse?

Their small convoy wove through base housing. Emergency lights flashed ahead. Neighbors huddled behind crime scene tape. Sickening déjà vu deepened when Greg saw whose house it was—Corporal Jeanette Shepard, the marine with the cocker spaniel he’d spoken to earlier that day.

He’d spent a good hour with her that afternoon, offering her comfort, petting her dog.

“God, I hope she’s all right,” he muttered. A woman was dead, yet his heart latched on to her devoted cocker spaniel. Greg didn’t think he could walk through that door if Mita had been killed too. He forced myself to leave his truck but moved no farther than the driver’s door.

“Problems?” Jordan asked. He and Lani stood a few feet away, waiting for him.

“I was here this afternoon. She was one of the ones we put on the list. I’d been gathering further intel before turning the names over to Seaberg. I had to be sure we weren’t having knee-jerk reactions.” It was best to tell them upfront before Jordan found out from other sources and twisted things around. “She was upset. I stayed an hour on the front step with her and her dog. I went to Lieutenant Colonel Seaberg’s after that, then home. I’m sure you covered my ass from that point on.”

“More or less.” Jordan glanced toward the house.

“She wasn’t the guilty party here,” Greg told him. “Her husband was.” He filled them in on the details as he knew them.

“Then if it’s the same killer, he made a mistake,” Lani said.

“Let’s hope it’s to our benefit.” Greg forced his feet to move. A flash of blonde to his left caught his attention. Mita stood, her paws braced on the edge of the door, inside a military police vehicle parked in the driveway. Her yaps called to him, her body quivered with every tail wag. She was looking right at him.

“Thank God you’re here.” Lieutenant Cornwall met them at the front door.

“What’ve we got?” Lani reached for some disposal booties placed nearby.

A quick scan revealed nothing out of place outside. No blood, no door busted in. Of course, in the dark the tiniest detail might be missed.

“I don’t see any yellow ribbon.” Jordan covered his shoes.

“She’d ripped it down earlier when I showed up,” Greg said. “Kept wrapping it around her fingers.”

“There’s one inside.” Cornwall jerked his chin toward the interior. “The killer used it to bind her.”

“Where’s the husband?” Lani took a cautious step inside, her sharp eyes scanning everything in her path.

“Probably in Oceanside with his new girlfriend by now,” Greg muttered. Bloody paw prints were scattered throughout the living room, leading to and from the bedroom. Poor Mita. “He’d have no motive. He left her. How was she discovered?”

Cornwall clutched a pen in one fist and his logbook in the other. Greg had seen that haunted look in people’s eyes before. He didn’t know whether to tell Cornwall it would get better or admit to him it only got worse and that he might grow immune to the sight of death one day.

“Neighbors came to check on her because she was so upset.” Cornwall cleared his throat. “They didn’t want her to be alone. The dog started barking and clawing at the door when she heard them. They found the sliding glass door in back unsecured and came in. Once they saw the bloody paw prints, they found her and called it in.”

Greg, Lani, Jordan, and Cornwall made their way toward the bedroom.

“If all those beer bottles in the trash are hers, she would have been passed out or been close to it by the time the killer showed up,” Cornwall said. “Most likely access was the sliding glass door. There are footprints all over the place. Hard to tell which might be the killer’s. There’d been a lot of traffic helping the husband pack up.”

Cornwall hung back while Lani, Greg, and Jordan stood in the doorway viewing the scene. Yes, it was very similar to the first murders. But there were also marked differences.

“It lacks rage.” Lani waved her hand, indicating nothing in particular. “No sign of struggle or surprise. No defensive wounds. No blood spatter. She was dead before she was stabbed.”

“Smothered maybe?” Cornwall pointed to the burgundy bed pillows. “Looks like there’s something smeared on the pillowcase that could be saliva. Her face is bruised. I didn’t want to screw anything up by looking closer.” He pointed to the corner of the bedroom. “Looks like dog pee over there.”

Greg’s heart squeezed a little harder for the dog. “Any sign Mita attacked the killer?”

“She had blood on her paws and muzzle. So far the CID sergeant didn’t find any obvious signs of clothing fibers, blood drops that might suggest a wound, or injuries to the dog that might suggest he fought her. Special Agent Beck’s team is on the way to process.”

“Why Shepard? She didn’t do anything. She’s been gone until this afternoon. Unless something happened overseas.” The dresser mirror reflected Lani’s frown.

“Maybe something did happen, and it only came to light this afternoon,” Jordan suggested. “Maybe there was mutual screwing around.”

Greg shook his head. “No, she was into her second beer when I saw her and finished two more while I was here. She would have said something to me.”

Jordan snorted. “Why? Because you’re the father confessor of them all?”

The last straw. “You know what?”
You’re an ass
. “I’ve had about all I can take. I’m calling it a night.”

Jordan looked too smug for his own good. Cornwall had swallowed his tongue. Lani…

He didn’t trust himself to look at her. No one tried to stop him as he walked away. Greg barely acknowledged Pattison and Juarez when they walked in the door to nose around. They sure didn’t waste any time getting there. Both looked like they’d tumbled out of bed into whatever jeans and T-shirt they could find in the laundry basket. Greg spun on the men.

“Not one more step, detectives.”

They turned slowly, hands clasping their wrists, daring him to make an issue of their presence. They’d picked the wrong time to fuck with him.

“Did Beck call you in?” It was only fair to give them the benefit of a doubt. Since Jordan had responded to the original murders at Pattison’s request, maybe Jordan had called them now. On the surface the murders were connected.

“I got a tip, but not from Beck,” Pattison said. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.”

“For now the scene belongs to PMO. Get out.” Greg jerked his chin toward their vehicle. “If Jordan wants you here once NCIS takes over, that’s his ass. I don’t want you here any more than you wanted me at the Tipton/Whittaker scene.” Maybe even less. “You’ve already fucked up the scene.” He pointed to their uncovered sneakers.

One of them mumbled something as Cornwall escorted them to their car. Greg couldn’t give a shit. He’d issued his decree and wasn’t afraid to have the MPs see it was carried out. Or do it himself, for that matter. God, he was walking a tightrope. He had to get the hell out of there before he did something stupid. Again. He was racking up the idiot points tonight.

Greg stepped into the cool night and breathed in some sweet desert air. It didn’t help shatter the nightmare of his day, the loss that twisted his gut, the loneliness that stretched to infinity and beyond.

“I can’t have her in my house!” a woman shrieked. “Look at her!”

The
her
in question was Mita. A snarling, barking, insanely mad Mita. She clawed and bit at the window. A cocker turned pit bull. What the fuck was going on? Someone or something had upset her. The dog’s focus was on the house. Greg jerked his head around to see what it was. All he saw was the empty doorway.

“Shoot her!” someone screamed. And one of the lance corporals on duty actually had the nerve to draw his weapon.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Greg charged the marine.

The kid’s eyes bugged out. “Master guns, the dog’s gone mad. She’s been like that off and on all night.”

“No shit. The dog’s been through hell and back today, and now she’s locked in the back of a strange vehicle with no human contact. I want you in my office zero six-thirty Monday morning. I’ll decide then if you’re still fit to carry that badge and weapon.” He strode to the military police vehicle, knowing everyone in earshot watched him. Greg didn’t give a shit about that either. Once he was by the window, he raised his palm. “Hush, Mita. Hush.”

She sat, her brown eyes locked on him. “Good, girl.”

Greg unlocked the rear door and scooped the dog into his arms. Mita wiggled with delight and slapped tongue kisses all over his chin. Blood stained her paws. Looked like they had a stop to make before he took her home. No one was pulling evidence off this dog but him.

“What’s going on?” Lani ran up to him, Corporal Mathias right behind.

Greg’s heart was on his sleeve. He would have laid it all out for Lani if Mathias hadn’t been tagging along. “I’m giving this little dog a safe haven. Shoot, maybe a permanent home if she’ll have me.” He scratched her chest. Mita lifted her paw to give him better access. Instant love. Why couldn’t it be that easy with Lani? “Good night, Captain…Corporal.”

He forced himself to walk away, silently chanting,
Come home with me, Lani
, with every step.

Of all the things to do to capture her heart forever. Giving safe haven to a traumatized dog. It wasn’t the first time Greg had cared for an animal. Strays showed up at his doorstep constantly. He stocked a small emergency stash of pet food, supplies, and first aid. But this…now… If she didn’t already love him, this act would have sealed the deal.

Who was she fooling? Lani’s heart had been Greg’s for months.

The remnants of her anger dissipated. Her confusion lingered. They needed to talk. It wouldn’t lead to anything more; she knew that. Now that they’d been exposed, their careers were over. Unless she could convince Jordan to back off.

Lani considered the alternative, the revelation they’d been involved, the courts-martial to follow. Did it really matter? Wasn’t that man with the wriggling cocker spaniel tucked in his arms like a hyperactive toddler more important? Careers would come and go. Who could fault them for having fallen in love?

Correction.
She’d
fallen in love. Greg called them done. Who could blame him? He’d put in twenty-plus years in the Marine Corps and had much more to lose than she did. The security of his retirement and all the benefits that came with it were at risk.

“That’s the type of person I hope to be one day,” Corporal Mathias said.

Lani had forgotten he was standing beside her. Would he still feel that way once the whole truth, past and present, came out? “You and me both, Corporal,” she said with a small laugh. Jordan could do whatever he wanted to her career, but she’d be damned if she let him take Greg down.

“Everything all right?” Lieutenant Cornwall walked up, a swagger in his step that had never existed before.

Lani didn’t know he had it in him, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. “Everything’s fine. You did an excellent job tonight, lieutenant. I’m pleased. Trust me; I know how difficult something like this is.” All too well.