Debby Giusti - The Agent's Secret Past

Becca kept thinking of what could have happened had she not awakened. Dark thoughts she had no reason to mention. Certainly not to Special Agent Voss, who hadn’t left her side since the explosion.

His presence played havoc with her internal calm. She needed space and a few moments to compose her tired and confused mind. The reoccurring dream of running from Jacob Yoder continued to haunt her. She sighed in an attempt to distance herself from the memory.

“Something wrong?” Colby asked.

Becca shook her head.

“You need some rest.”

“I’m fine.” A statement she had uttered too many times tonight. She wasn’t used to having someone underfoot, although she did appreciate his concern.

“The chief reserved a room for you at the Lodge, Becca. It’s time you headed there.”

Special Agent in Charge Craig Wilson had arrived onsite shortly after Arnold’s body had been uncovered. The CID commander now stood talking to the post provost marshal and Special Agents Jamison Steele and Brody Goodman.

Wilson was a tall African-American with broad shoulders and an innate ability to hone in on pertinent information that often solved a case. The high regard with which he was held in the entire CID was one of the reasons Becca had accepted the Georgia assignment. She could learn much under his direction.

Tonight she feared her credibility had been compromised. Wilson kept telling her to get out of the cold, yet he hadn’t mentioned the temperature to Colby nor to the other CID personnel on scene.

Maybe it was the oversize coat she wore and the baggy sweatpants that made her seem needy. Something she never wanted to be.

Wilson slapped the provost marshal’s back and nodded to Jamison and Brody before he walked purposefully toward where Becca stood.

“I’ve assigned Brody the lead on the death investigation.”

She nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“You were the only occupant of the BOQ, Becca. Any chance the explosion was targeted at you?”

“I’m not sure, sir.”

“Has there been something in the past, a person who’s given you trouble, someone who threatened to do you harm?”

“There was an incident in my youth, sir, but that person died some years ago.”

Wilson rubbed his jaw. “It might be prudent to run down anyone you’ve arrested in the past few years, especially those who were incarcerated. Let’s ensure you can account for anyone who might have a grudge to bear.”

“Yes, sir.”

The chief glanced at Colby. “Becca’s new to post and doesn’t know the surrounding area. Look into the explosion, Colby, and ensure it doesn’t have anything to do with her past.”

“I can handle it, sir,” Becca objected.

Wilson’s eyes narrowed. “Of course you can, but this might get personal. I want Colby to watch your back.”

“But, sir—”

“Time for all of us to call it a night,” Wilson said before she could state her objection. “The military police will guard the building. The crime-scene folks plan to go over the area as soon as the fire marshal gives them the okay. In spite of the investigation, General Cameron wants every available unit on post to participate in the half marathon tomorrow.” He paused and stared at Colby. “You signed up to represent the CID?”

Colby nodded. “Yes, sir. Becca did, as well.”

Wilson turned to her. “No need for you to run, if you don’t feel up to it.”

“I’m fine, sir.”

“Then I’ll see you both after the race.”

As Wilson headed to his car, Colby touched Becca’s arm. “There’s nothing more we can do tonight. I’ll drive you to the Lodge.”

She shook her head, frustrated at being coddled by not only Colby but also the chief. “Thanks, but I can drive myself. Besides I’ll need my car in the morning.”

The half marathon had been organized as a way to foster good relations between the town and military community, one of a series of events scheduled for the upcoming year that had the post commanding general’s full support.

Colby smiled. “The least I can do is follow you home.”

She shook her head. “Really, it’s not necessary.”

Either the tone of her voice or her narrowed gaze caused him to take a step back.

He raised his hands, palms out, and shrugged. “Of course, you’re fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Colby turned and headed to his car, leaving her standing in the parking lot. Hot tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them back and fisted her hands. For some reason, she hadn’t wanted him to leave.

THREE

Only a little farther!

Becca pushed harder, her focus on the finish line. One more hill to climb to complete the 13.1K run, her first competition since she had arrived at Fort Rickman.

The cheers of the people lining the streets melded into a single roar that accompanied her up the incline. At the crest of the hill, she sucked air into her lungs, appreciating her body’s response to the need for more oxygen.

The finish line lay fifty yards ahead.

Her time was good. Not good enough to win, but nothing to be ashamed of, either.

One last sprint. She kept her eyes on the goal. The Freemont running club official said something over the loudspeaker. Probably her number.

Her footfalls pounded the pavement.

Left, right, left, right...

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.

Everything faded into a blur.

Push. Harder. Faster.

She broke across the finish. Cheers erupted around her. Her body relaxed, and her pace slowed. She loped through a roped-off chute that would take her to one of the running club volunteers.

“Rebecca.”

Someone from the sidelines called her name. A deep voice she knew too well. Fear tightened her spine.

She whipped her head to the right, the direction from which the voice had sounded, and stared into the crowd, searching for a face she would never forget. The face of a man—no, a monster—who had destroyed everything and everyone she had ever loved.

She scanned the bystanders—wives with babes in arms, parents and grandparents waving at their favorite runners, shopkeepers and community leaders supporting the town’s first attempt to host the sporting event.

Surely her ears were playing tricks on her.

She would never forget the deep, almost soothing quality of his voice that persuaded even those most determined not to succumb to his diabolical charm.

Evil packed in a handsome face and muscular body.

Goose bumps pimpled her flesh. Despite the exertion, she shivered.

Someone shoved a plastic cup into her hand. “Water?” the guy asked.

She switched her gaze to the man and his outstretched hand. An older gentleman with kindly eyes.

Not Jacob.

“Great run,” the man offering water enthused.

Nodding her appreciation, she took the cup and headed farther along the narrowing chute, still studying the crowd, unable to abandon her search.

She had heard Jacob’s voice.

A high school volunteer checked the clipboard in his hand and marked off her number.

He pointed her toward the refreshment area. “Sports drinks are available at the table ahead. Burgers and dogs are on the grill when you feel like eating.”

She downed the water, tossed the glass in a nearby trash receptacle and slipped through the crowd of those who had already finished the run.

“Good run.” Another voice, one she also recognized.

She turned to see Colby approaching her, his angular face still flushed. His group had started ahead of hers.

“With so many runners, I didn’t think I’d see you this morning.” His smile was warm, but his eyes were serious as if he were searching her face for some sign of weakness. He’d worn the same intense expression last night when he’d found her on the knoll immediately after the explosion.