Elle James - Marine Force Recon

“I’ve been asked to reschedule your interview for tomorrow morning at 8:30 a.m. Mrs. Halverson will see you then.”

“Thank you. I look forward to meeting her.”

“Wait,” Margaret laughed. “You called me. Was there something I could help you with?”

“Oh, thank you but... I was just calling to confirm the interview,” Grace said. Margaret didn’t need to know Grace had called to say she couldn’t make her scheduled appointment.

Grace ended the call and released a sigh. At least she hadn’t blown her chances by being a no-show.

By the time Grace stepped off the train at her stop, the shock of the day had set in. Her knees shook as she walked the few blocks to her apartment complex, and she fumbled with her keys before she could open the front door.

Once inside, she set the rucksack on the floor, kicked off her heels, collapsed on the couch in the living room and dug her cell phone out of her purse.

A text message displayed across the screen.

Leaving work on time tonight. What’s for supper?

The message was from early that morning. Grace had just noticed it. She snorted out a laugh, the sound catching on a sob. What a day. Her roommate, Riley Lansing, wouldn’t believe what had happened to her. Grace would have to wait until Riley arrived at the apartment before she could tell her about it.

In the meantime, Grace needed to find out where O’Neill was and arrange to get his rucksack back to him.

She spent the next hour calling police stations, trying to locate the man, but with no luck. After hitting one brick wall after the other, she set her cell phone aside and wandered into the kitchen, looking for something to eat.

A glance at the clock on the stove made her frown.

Riley had said she’d be leaving work on time, which would have been over an hour ago.

Grace abandoned the refrigerator and retrieved her cell phone from the coffee table in the living room. She texted Riley.

Did you stop at the store?

She waited for Riley’s response. When it didn’t come, she tried again.

Hello? I thought you’d be home by now.

Grace shrugged and headed for the kitchen again. Perhaps Riley had stopped at a store with lousy reception, or her cell phone was buried at the bottom of her purse, or she’d turned off the sound. Riley wasn’t one to say she’d be home on time and then take a lot longer, without calling.

A bad feeling washed over Grace. She tried to shrug it off as residual nerves from the earlier attack in DC. But the longer she waited for Riley, the more worried she became.

Since Grace had moved in, she and Riley were the other’s support system. Grace’s parents had been an older couple when Grace was born and had since passed away. Riley’s folks were on a world cruise and not scheduled to be back for another twenty days.

Grace called Riley’s number and listened to it ring six times before it went to her voice mail. She called again and the voice mail picked up immediately.

She left a message. “Riley, call me. I’m worried about you.”

By midnight she was past being worried and beginning to become frantic. She called the police and reported her roommate as missing.

“How long has she been missing?” the dispatcher asked.

“At least five hours. She’s never late. She texted me this morning, saying she’d leave work on time tonight. Leaving work on time means she would have left more than five and a half hours ago.”

“Could she have stopped at a friend’s house?” the dispatcher asked.

“Not without calling to tell me,” Grace said.

“Where is her last known location?” the woman on the other end of the line asked.

“She was leaving work at Quest Aerospace Alliance.” Grace gave the address and waited.

“We’ll have a unit check it out. If you hear from her, please let us know to call off the search.”

“Thank you.”

The dispatcher ended the call.

The simple act of reporting her friend as missing did nothing to allay Grace’s fears. She couldn’t stay in the apartment, waiting. She had to go out and look for herself. If the police found her in the meantime, they would contact her on her cell phone. She’d have it with her.

Grace scribbled a note to Riley and left it on the counter. If Riley came home while Grace was out, she was to call her immediately.

Grace shrugged into her jacket, grabbed her purse, slipped the Taser Riley had gifted her at Christmas inside the front pocket and left the apartment, heading...

Hell, she didn’t even know which way to go.

Squaring her shoulders, she walked through the dark streets to the train station, her gaze searching the shadows for potential threats. When she reached the metro stop, she climbed aboard the train headed toward Quest Aerospace Alliance. She’d start there and work her way backward, praying she’d find Riley at a bar or hanging out with a friend.

Deep down, Grace knew she wouldn’t. She was Riley’s friend and they didn’t have anyone else they hung out with.

Grace tucked her hand into the pocket of her purse, curling her fingers around the Taser it concealed. Riley had an identical device. She’d been the one who’d often insisted that they needed some kind of protection in the big city.

Grace didn’t feel any safer, but a Taser was better than nothing. She just had to be prepared to use it. Perhaps Riley hadn’t been as prepared. When she found Riley, she’d be sure to ask. Because she would find Riley. Alive .

* * *

DECLAN SPENT TWO hours in a holding room, where he was repeatedly grilled about his part in the attack in downtown DC. Thankfully, he’d had his wallet on him, but the majority of his money was in his rucksack. If...no... when he was released, he only had a five-dollar bill to get something to eat, but no money to get around. He might as well stay the night in the jail. At least he’d get a free meal and a bed to sleep on, out of the cold, rain or whatever the weather was doing outside.

The police had allowed him to make one phone call. When he’d dialed his number, the phone service indicated his phone was not online at that time. Meaning the battery was dead and the woman he’d entrusted all of his worldly goods to had yet to find or charge it.

His one call wasted, he was escorted back to the holding room, where he was questioned all over again by yet another detective.

“What organization are you with?” the detective asked.

“I’m not with any organization,” Declan responded.

“Witnesses reported you were armed with a submachine gun. One like the other attackers carried.”

“I was in the right place at the wrong time. I watched those men kill the security detail surrounding a limousine, and then they kidnapped that woman. While others stood around gawking, I took it upon myself to do something.”

“So, you just waltzed in with your submachine gun and jumped into the back of a van?” The man snorted. “Highly unlikely.”

“I was unarmed. However, I was able to disarm one of the attackers and confiscate his weapon.”

“Convenient.” The detective’s lips pressed into a thin line. “By all accounts, the attackers were highly trained. How is it you were able to relieve one of them of his weapon?”

Declan shrugged. “You obviously aren’t buying anything I have to say. Why should I bother talking to you?” He looked past the detective. “I want to talk to a lawyer.”

The detective glared. “You’ll be talking soon enough.”

Though his hackles rose on the back of Declan’s neck, he stared back at the detective, wiping all emotion from his face. “I’ll talk when I have a lawyer.”

The detective smirked. “You got one?”

“I will as soon as you let me make a call.”