“It’s me Suzanne, Jack.” He stepped into the light.
“Oh, my God.” She dropped the alabaster and launched at him. “I thought you got killed! What happened? Why can’t they tell us anything?”
He grabbed her, muffling her mouth with his hand. “Shhh. Sit down.” He forced her into the chair. “No, no lights.” She stared, her pretty tearstained face aglow from the TV.
“How did you survive?”
Anger and bitterness tinged her voice. He didn’t blame her. She was young with a baby and no husband. He was a bachelor with no one. It didn’t make sense to anyone—especially him—that he was here and Lyons would never come home again.
“I’m alive by pure chance, Suzanne. If I could change it, I would gladly have died in his place.”
Her expression softened. “I know you would have, Jack. Carl always said you were the first man in, last man out.”
Jack’s jaw tightened. “He was a good man. He didn’t deserve this; none of them did.”
Tears burst free. “Make me understand, please.”
He told her enough to ease her mind, but not enough to put her in danger. She sat there and whispered the word, murder as if saying it would help her understand.
“I don’t know why it happened, but I’m going to find out.” He gripped her hands. “I swear I’ll get the bastard who pulled the trigger and the one who gave the orders.”
She inhaled. “You can’t. Are you crazy? Think of your career. Oh, Jack, let NCIS handle it. Please.”
He frowned. “Who’s contacted you?”
“No one except the chaplain and the CO. Both said it was a hunting accident.”
Oh, yeah, that washes, Jack thought bitterly. Three expert marksmen shot each other? In the head? The CO didn’t know anymore than the cops did. “Stick to that story for now.” Jack stood, rubbing the back of his neck. His gaze fell on a picture of his team and he picked it up, memorizing the faces of the men he’d trusted the most.
“Take it.”
He looked at her. She pulled it out of the frame and handed it over. “Carl would want you to have this.”
He pocketed the picture. “I have to ask you not to tell anyone I was here.”
She set the empty frame back on the mantel and nodded.
“I’m really short on time, Suzanne.” Although he was legally on leave, he had seventy-two hours to conduct a Line of Duty investigation. It was his right as their ranking officer and the only thing that might keep his ass out of a court martial for going rogue. “I need some of Carl’s gear.”
She nodded and went to unlock the hall closet. “It’s all in there. Take it.”
Jack gathered everything he could. Carl was a southern boy who liked his guns and all the toys that came with them. Gear stowed, he moved it by the door.
“I know what’ll happen to me and Lizzie, Jack. I’ve known this since I married a Marine and I’ve prepared myself for it, but what’s going to happen to you?”
It touched him that in her grief she even considered that. “Nothing I can’t handle. Don’t you worry.” He touched her chin till she looked at him. “If the government comes here and asks about me, don’t lie. Tell them I was with them.”
“They don’t know?”
“They aren’t forcing their hand enough to find out or I’d be standing in front of the general right now.” Jack laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Until they catch up to me, I’ll do some looking. I have somewhere to start.”
She nodded and he kissed the top of her head, then pulled her into his arms. He held her as she clung to him and cried her heart out. “You have someone coming to stay with you?”
“My mom should be here in an hour or so,” she murmured, wiping her nose.
Softly he whispered, “Listen to me, Suze.” She looked up. God, she was just a tiny, fragile thing. A widow at twenty-five. “I swear on my oath as a Marine, I will get them.”
“I’ll pass that to Decker’s and Martinez’s family.” She squeezed him and bravely stepped back. “Now go. Because if you’re hunted, they’ll look here.”
Slinging the gear, Jack motioned her away from the back door, and gripped the knob. Before he opened it, he plucked keys from a rack near the door and left her alone in the dark.
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