“No one knows where you are? What happened?” Craig sounded rushed; he was reaching for the seat belt, tugging to get it to extend around her, blanket and all. Lacie let out a cry as he pulled tight to secure it. “It’s okay, baby.” The SUV roared to life.
“It hurts, Craig,” she told him, shifting in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure. “And I’m so tired. What’s wrong with me?”
“I know. Close your eyes, Lacie.” Craig pulled out of the parking lot and the powerful heater continued to fill the inside with such lovely warmth. “Everything is going to be okay now.”
*
Shane rubbed at his chest again, the persistent ache growing stronger with each passing minute. He looked at the wall clock. Nine p.m. Lacie should have called by now.
He pulled out his phone and called her cell. It rang a few times and went to voicemail. Again.
Shane paced the length of his room. He was overreacting, he told himself. Lacie had warned him that the planning meeting might go very late, and that her sister was going to stay over at her place. There was a very good reason Lacie hadn’t called yet. The meeting probably did run late, just like she’d said, and then she and Corinne went out for a bite to eat.
No big deal. She’d call any minute now and he’d realize just how paranoid he was being. It was only natural. He wanted to be with Lacie, craved her so much, that it made him overly agitated when something kept them from being together. His brothers were the same way with their wives. The desire to be with his other half was part of the whole experience. It would just take some getting used to, that’s all.
He glanced at the now-closed file folder on his desk. That was the real source of his unease – a two-inch thick dossier that Ian managed to compile on Craig Davidson. With each page he’d read, the more disquieted Shane had become. While the official profile painted a decent enough picture, anyone with experience deciphering official government documents could read between the lines.
On the surface, Craig Davidson had served his country, had sustained grievous injuries on his final tour, and had been honorably discharged on medical grounds.
What the official documents had hinted at but didn’t come right out and say was that Craig Davidson was a borderline psychopath. At least that was the opinion Shane had formed.
Ian had obtained enough “unofficial” evidence to support that theory. A history of insubordination. Disorderly conduct. Use of excessive force. Allusions to problems in the civilian sector, such as brief mentions of fights and ‘coerced sexual relations’. There were even a few psych evaluations Ian had managed to get his hands on. Terms and phrases like “obsessive”, “skewed perception”, and “predilection toward violence” literally leaped off the page and into Shane’s photographic memory.
The items that interested Shane the most were the so-called investigations into the events that resulted in Davidson’s injuries and the loss of the rest of his unit. The cause of the incident was officially ruled as an accident, the result of “weapons malfunctions”, but so many of the pages had been black-lined in the interest of national security that it was difficult to get a complete picture of exactly what the mission had entailed and what had gone wrong. Ian was working on getting the full reports, but even the little bit Shane had seen was enough for him to know that the information in Lacie’s apartment did not match up with Ian’s results, not even at the official level.
It was enough to convince Shane that something was decidedly “off”. The pieces just didn’t fit.
Davidson’s activities after his discharge didn’t foster any warm and fuzzy feelings, either. He had been in bad shape when he’d come home, that much was true. He’d spent much of the first year in and out of hospitals and then rehabs as they sought to rebuild the parts of him that had been so badly damaged. The local news had done a series of interviews with him over that first year. Shane read every one of them. Each one gave him the same instinctual feeling that Craig Davidson was not a man who could be trusted.
Then his young wife died tragically in a car accident, leaving him with a three-year old daughter. The maternal grandparents got custody of the little girl, but Davidson had visiting rights. Why? Was it that Davidson was still in bad enough shape that they felt it would be in the girl’s best interests to be with Mikaela’s parents instead? Or was it something else?
What Shane found particularly interesting were a few handwritten sticky notes Ian had placed on various documents, reminders to speak with the lawyer in town who had drawn up the custody arrangement. Ian must have been thinking along the same lines. Shane would have to ask him about that later; Ian had already left for the night with Lexi and the kids.