Jackson Parker,Troy's physical therapist, was furious. “Do you want to make it through this surgery in one piece? Your abdominal muscles are pulled to their maximum. And don't tell me all you lifted was a gallon of milk. What did you lift?”
Troy felt like a beached whale. Lying on his back, he couldn't sit up without help. “Gwen.”
“Gwen what?” Jack placed a heating pad across Troy’s tense abdomen.
“No, I picked up Gwen.” Troy swallowed hard.
“You picked up a 120-pound woman. Tell me, in your crazy logic, the weight of Gwen somehow equals a gallon of milk? You know Tim Holland was hoping for an afternoon off. He should be here before we're done.”
“Did I screw up the surgery?” Troy dropped his forearm over his head.
Jack sat on the stool and wheeled closer. “I don't think so, but I want Tim to look at you. Troy, you're going to make me crazy. Alright, close your eyes and rest for fifteen minutes. I'll be back and see if we can get these muscles to release.”
Jack was performing light massage to Troy’s abdomen when Tim Holland walked in.
Troy looked at his PA and held his hand up. “No lecture necessary. I was an idiot, but... did I screw everything up?”
Tim washed his hands and pulled on a pair of gloves. He palpated Troy's belly and his tense muscles. “I think you strained everything. Do not, under any circumstances, lift anything heavier than a pencil. Clear?”
“Crystal,” Troy said.
Tim stripped off his gloves and turned back to look at Troy. “What did you lift?”
“Do you really want to know?” With Jack's help, Troy sat up. “Gwen.”
“That’s how she got into your lap. What's your motto, go big or go home? Do I need to order a CT scan of your brain to see if there's anything left in there? I am going to lunch at the Omni. I have this thing called a date with one of the nurses from here. So help me, if you ruin the rest of my one afternoon off, I am admitting you. And they will keep you chained to the bed.” Tim flashed him a smile and walked out of the room.
Jackson laughed as he approached. “I see you have that effect on everyone. Get dressed. Behave yourself. I'll see you tomorrow, just light stretches.”
“Thanks, Jack.” Troy walked into the locker room, took a shower, and dressed. He stepped in the hall to be greeted by two members of 3-Romeo. “Good afternoon, shall we take a brisk walk over the bridge? And then I have work to do.”
Both operators nodded. "Yes, sir, Mr. Bremen.”
Troy looked at the files on his desk again. He pulled out a pad of graph paper and divided it into rows and columns. He had twenty-five files plus Gwen’s. Twenty-six rows deep, in the first column, he wrotedate of birth. Second column,rank. Third column,unit assigned. Fourth column,hometown. Fifth column,barracks. Sixth column,CO. Seventh column,DCO. Eighth column,training exercise type, role and location,and the last columns werewhere hospitalized and treating physicians.
The trauma physicians and psychiatrists were limited to five names. Troy remembered what Brody Garrett said. He typed a request to technical analysis requesting a background check on all five.
On a second graph, he made twenty-six rows. The first column was assignedyesornowhether they were still enlisted; the second column was where they were today.The third was their relationship status. He scratched his head. “The women were all in committed long-term relationships. None of the men were.”
He'd always been able to compartmentalize the reports about sexual assault victims. In his mind, he broke it down to severity of injury, time of attack, victim statement. Now as he read, he still compartmentalized the information. That was an effective way of solving the case. But the lid to the compartment was open, as he had overwhelming empathy for the victims. He felt connected to them. He knew how they felt. He knew what should be done to help them, and he prayed for those who had not received the help.
He returned to his columns and rows. Relationships? What united the women? “Verna, could you find Paul Shanks from Papa Team for me and ask him to come see me?”
“Sure thing.” She chuckled. “Mr. Trask is approaching at a fast pace. Should I board up the door?”
“No, but pop the door for him before he knocks it down.” He worried what had Trask so upset. As he entered the office, Troy knew. “We have a body. Where?”
“How’d you know?” Trask’s eyes filled with pain.
“Your face. Where?” Troy tossed his glasses onto his desk.
“We got an anonymous call. They found a female Marine floating face down in the surf off Delmar Beach. Boss, they identified her as Estella Cavallo.”
“She’s the seventh victim on my list. Cause of death?” Troy’s breath hitched in his chest.
“Nothing yet. I dispatched four Quebec Team members to make sure an autopsy is performed. Oscar Team was about to head back to Denver, but I held them. I paired them up and sent them to check in with every victim. I want them to know we want to help them.”
“Good work. I sent for Paul Shanks, Papa Team’s leader, before you got here.” Troy explained what he found. “I wanted to see what bound the women together and what bound the men. Maybe the women are connected through their partners. Grab Shanks. You can cover more ground if we also use Papa Team to speak with the victims. Also, look at this.” Troy showed Trask the attacks listed by date.
