“No one blames you for Murphy’s death,” Taylor continued. “If you hadn’t stopped in the yard, we would all have been in that building and died. Think about that.”
Dean did.
“If you want to keep beating yourself up about it, that’s up to you. But if it starts making you second-guess your decisions and affecting your performance, then it becomes my problem. But, Tex?” Dean waited. “Disobey another direct order from me like that again, and I’ll see your ass in the brig. Understood?”
Dean knew he was getting off lightly. They both knew if they got out of this, Taylor could have his ass. “Roger that, sir.”
“Don’t fucking start with the ‘sir.’ You’ll make me self-conscious.”
“Does that mean you are all right with me going back to Lewis?”
“No, I’m sure as hell not all right with it. But you gotta do what you gotta do, and I’m not going to try to stop you.”
And he trusted him. That was what he wasn’t saying. But Dean heard it, and it meant more than he’d thought it would. He and the LC would never be best buddies, and undoubtedlythey would lock horns again, but they trusted and respected each other. That was what mattered.
“I’ll call you if Kate has anything. And, Tex?” Taylor paused. “In answer to your question, yes, someone has.”
The LC had already hung up when Dean realized what he meant. He’d asked him “if anyone had ever...?”
So the LC wasn’t immune, either. Someone had gotten to him.
It was nice to know Taylor was human. He was so buttoned up and by the book, sometimes Dean wondered. Distance from the men was part of being an officer, but except for Colt, the LC kept himself apart more than usual.
Dean had changed his ticket and was waiting at the gate for his 1400 flight to Lewis to board.
It was thirty minutes delayed, which was why he was in cell range and not thirty thousand feet up when the call came through that confirmed what his gut had been telling him. It wasn’t over.
•••
This was a mistake.
Annie had spent most of the ninety-minute drive from Stornoway to the small fishing village of Rodel in South Harris trying to have a good time. The seven other protesters in the rented minibus certainly were. But she didn’t feel like humming songs until someone guessed the tune or laughing along with the others at the range of vocal abilities. She just wanted to be alone to think. To gaze at the coastline and the crashing waves from the beach or the privacy of her hotel window, not watching it blow by in a blur from a car window.
She wasn’t ready for company, she realized. She was still in the licking-wounds stage.
“You’re very quiet, Dr. Henderson.”
It took Annie a moment to realize the woman was addressing her. She wasn’t used to her new title. But as proud as she was of all the work that had gone into her PhD, she was going to be the type who only used “doctor” in formal academic or research situations.
“Annie, please,” she said. “I guess I’m more tired than I realized.”
“Not surprising,” the woman said, turning from her place in the passenger seat to give Annie a smile. “After all that you’ve been through. But I’m glad that Martin invited you to come along.”
“Me, too,” Annie lied, returning the older woman’s smile. She’d been surprised to see that Julien and Jean Paul’s friend Sofie was part of the dive group. Annie hadn’t seen her since that night and had assumed she’d left. But apparently Sofie had a thing going with Martin. They seemed an odd pairing, but it was none of her business.
Annie wondered whether Sofie had been questioned by the police, too, but no one had mentioned it.
“As the only American in the group, you’ll have to tell us what you think about the latest story,” Sofie said.
Annie didn’t understand. “What story?”
“You must not have seen the news today,” Martin said. “It’s all over the papers.”
“There’s another article about your lost legion,” Marie explained, clearly amused. “What do you think? Is it true?”
“I have no idea,” Annie said.
“They even posted a picture of the reporter’s missing brother with a few other men she claims not to be able to locate,” Sofie added.
