The Officer's Secret

“Wait in the car, Maggie. Once we’ve established Graham is in the house, I’ll come back and get you.”

Trying to appeal to his common sense, she opened the passenger door. “That will delay you. There’s no reason why I can’t go with you now.”

“She’s right.” The chaplain stepped from the car and glanced at Nate.

“Whatever you say, sir.”

Maggie heard a hint of frustration in Nate’s reply. No telling how Graham would react to this dead-of-the-night encounter. The CID agent probably wondered if having her underfoot would complicate an already difficult situation. The look on his face sent a clear message he would rather leave her in the car.

Nate hadn’t known her long enough to realize she could handle adversity. She’d had enough in her lifetime, although tonight wasn’t the norm. She was acting on instinct rather than reason.

Falling into step between the two officers, Maggie was struck with the irony of the moment and the army’s attention to detail. The powers that be had provided a chaplain to comfort the grieving husband and a CID agent to decide whether to haul him in for questioning. If Maggie had anything to say about what would unfold, she’d demand Graham be interrogated for hours until he divulged the truth about her sister’s death.

Nate flicked his gaze around the apartment complex, making her realize that, if her brother-in-law was a killer, the three of them could be in danger. The hair on the back of her neck tingled as she took in the deep shadows and hidden recesses where someone—anyone—could be hiding.

Nate stepped protectively in front of her and knocked on the door. The three of them waited in silence.

“Yeah?” A deep voice sounded through the closed door.

“I’m Special Agent Patterson, of the U.S. Army CID, and I’m here with Chaplain Grant. We’re looking for Graham Hughes.”

The door opened, and a tall, beefy guy, wearing a T-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, stood in the threshold. A scruffy beard and disheveled hair completed his attire.

Resting his hand on the doorjamb, he stared at them with confused eyes. “Something wrong?”

Nate pulled out his identification and held it open. “We need to speak to Graham Hughes.”

“He’s not here.”

Glancing around Nate and into the apartment, Maggie saw a leather couch and a coffee table covered with newspapers and a pizza delivery box.

“Are you Arnold Zart?” Nate asked.

“Yeah.” The guy stifled a yawn. “Who’s the woman?”

“I’m Maggie Bennett,” she said, in a voice that sounded more self-assured than she currently felt. “I’m Graham’s sister-in-law.”

“Any suggestions where we can find him?” Nate asked, deflecting the guy’s attention away from Maggie.

“No clue.”

“When was the last time you saw Mr. Hughes?” Nate continued.

“We work together. I saw him at the office yesterday, that would be Friday, and only briefly after work.”

“Has he been living here with you?”

“Graham and his wife are having problems. I’ve got a spare bedroom and told him that he could bunk here until they patched things up.”

“Did he mention reconciling with his wife?”

Zart dropped his arm. “Look, I’m not comfortable talking about Graham’s personal life behind his back.”

Nate squared his shoulders and leaned in closer. “I could take you to the CID office if you’d feel more comfortable there.”

The guy held up his hands. “Give me a break, okay?” He hesitated and then sighed. “Graham said he was going over to the Freemont Bar and Grill on Johnson Street about nine o’clock last night. A woman works there. She’s been interested in him for some time. Graham needed to talk.”

“A woman?” Maggie blurted out unable to remain silent. “What’s her name?”

The contractor shrugged. “Graham never said.”

Nate gave him his card. “If Mr. Hughes comes back, have him call me.”

“Will do.” The guy shut the door, leaving them standing on the front steps.

“But—?” Maggie wanted more information.

Nate took her arm and turned her toward the street. “We’ll talk in the car.”

She pulled her arm from his hold and huffed as she hurriedly walked along the sidewalk. “You could have searched the house.”

“We don’t have the authority—not at this point. But we’ll track down the woman who works at the bar and grill. She might be able to lead us to Graham.”

Maggie wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling tired as well as angry. “He’s probably out of the country by now.”

“More likely, he’s with his new girlfriend.”

“Well, that makes me feel better. He kills Dani and then finds another woman.” She glared at Nate.

“His indiscretion may be reprehensible, but it doesn’t prove he killed your sister.”

“What does it prove?”

“That he’s not the type of guy I’d want my sister to marry.”

The sudden softness in his tone made her drop her defenses. Tears flooded her eyes. She missed her step and stumbled on the rough sidewalk.

Nate steadied her with his hand on her elbow. “It’s late, Maggie. You need some sleep.”

A lump settled in her throat and prevented her from speaking. Maybe the CID agent understood a bit more than she had realized. If only she could make him understand that her sister hadn’t taken her own life. Maggie would do anything to convince him of the truth.

Once Maggie and the chaplain climbed into the car and buckled their seat belts, Nate pulled out of the apartment complex and onto the main road, leading back to Fort Rickman. He dug his cell phone out of his pocket, called Jamison and relayed what had happened.

“Have someone locate the owner of the bar and grill. See if he knows Graham Hughes or the woman who has taken an interest in him. We might get lucky. Otherwise, we’ll have to wait until he eventually returns to Zart’s apartment. I’ll see you when I get back to post.”

Nate disconnected and flicked a glance over his shoulder to the chaplain. “Sorry to take up your time, sir.”

“You think the husband was involved in Major Bennett’s death?”

“He killed her,” Maggie said with conviction. “Dani fought with him earlier and kicked him out. Easy enough for Graham to return later.”

“We need evidence, Maggie, to prove a crime has been committed at all,” Nate explained.

“Check his alibi with the woman he’s supposed to be seeing. Threaten to involve her if she doesn’t tell the truth.” Nate almost smiled at Maggie’s attempt to tell him how to handle the investigation.

“Search his car and the apartment where he’s staying,” she added. “You’ll uncover something.”

“And if we don’t find any evidence that points to his guilt?”

“Then—”

The amateur sleuth seemed to have run out of options.

“Then throw him in jail until he talks,” she finally said.

“You know we can’t do that. But we will find him and determine where he was tonight.”

“Focus on determining why he killed my sister.” With another huff, Maggie turned toward the passenger window and stared into the night.

Nate glanced at the rearview mirror, catching the chaplain’s eye. “At this point, sir, we don’t know much. Hopefully the autopsy and toxicology results will shed more light on the situation.”

“The 2nd Transportation Battalion has had a rough few days,” the chaplain commented. “I’m sure you heard about the IED explosion that took two men in Afghanistan.”

“Yes, sir. Were you involved in the notification?”

“The driver was unmarried. His parents live in New Jersey. An officer from Fort Dix visited them. But the company commander lived on post and left a wife and kids.”

Nate heard struggle in Chaplain Grant’s voice. Most days, Nate didn’t think about God or the difficulty a man of faith might have in comforting the grieving. As a CID agent, his job was to ensure the family was notified, if a crime had been committed. He left the spiritual consolation to the chaplains. Still, he found himself searching for a way to reach out to Maggie, to ease the pain and frustration she was feeling and bring her comfort.

Nate glanced at Maggie again. If the tables were turned, he’d be lashing out, as well. Fact was, when his brother died, Nate had been filled with pain and anger. Some of which he still hadn’t resolved.

“Might seem strange,” the chaplain said from the rear, his voice melancholy. “But the commander’s wife ended up comforting me. The woman has great faith in the Almighty. She’s grieving, but she knows God didn’t cause the IED explosion that took her husband’s life.”

Once upon a time, Nate had believed God protected the faithful. Now, the memory of what had happened to Michael was never far from his mind. Truth be told, he blamed God as well as himself.

Glancing at Maggie, Nate said, “Seems impossible to trust a so-called loving God when your world falls apart.”

She nodded slowly but kept her eyes trained on the passing darkness. Raindrops splattered against the windshield, adding to the oppressive gloom that had settled over all of them.

The chaplain sighed. “I don’t have the answer, but I know we can’t turn our backs on the Creator. He made us because He loves us, and His love is unconditional. I keep coming back to that. God knows all. How can I, as a finite creature, hope to understand why things happen? Maybe someday I’ll see more clearly. Right now, I’m looking with human eyes that don’t see the entire picture. I have to trust in Him. That’s not always easy.”

Trust in God wasn’t high on Nate’s priority list. Would he ever be able to soften his heart and turn to the Lord again?

What about Maggie? Would her sister’s death have a long-term impact on her life, too? Maybe they’d talk about it sometime if he got to know her better.

Warmth spread through him again and his neck tingled. As much as Nate hated to admit it, even to himself, the woman’s pain affected him deeply. Usually, he could trust his feelings. Tonight he wasn’t sure of anything, especially when it involved Maggie Bennett.

She was alone and grieving. Nate thought of the other cases he had investigated. One death often led to another.

If he were a praying man, he’d ask that no one else—especially Maggie—would be hurt in any way by what had happened tonight.

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