“Not for a while, I’m afraid.” McKay stood up. “He’s on assignment these days. Unfortunately, he won’t be back this way for a while. How long did you say you were staying?”
“I don’t know myself.” Hauck stood up as well. “Too bad.”
The Alpha manager looked at him curiously. “We like to think Weld County has its own austere charm, Mr. Hauck, but we know it’s not on too many people’s lists of their favorite places to visit. What brings you here, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I was out here to visit a friend Mr. Robertson and I may have had in common.”
“Another time then, I’m afraid.” McKay shrugged, feigning disappointment.
“I’m not sure that’ll be possible. He’s dead.”
“My goodness, I’m sorry …” The oil manager looked surprised. “From around here? I could let him know.”
“No, from Aspen,” Hauck said at the office door. “And I think he does already. Know.” Hauck kept his eye on McKay, searching for the slightest sign of recognition. The guy played his part out well. “Anyway, no bother. I’ll be happy to find my way out. I appreciate your time.” He put out his hand.
“Pleasure was mine,” McKay said. “I’ll make sure he gets this.”
“Just tell him I’ll just drop something in the mail next time.”
“The mail?”
“He’ll know what I mean.”
On his way out Hauck stopped at a framed photograph he’d noticed on the wall when he was walking in.
An army photo. An entire unit, it seemed. At least sixty of them. Everyone in fatigues. 301st Air Division, it read at the bottom.
Alpha Unit.
It was taken on an airfield tarmac, mountains in the background. The photo caption read, Rasheed Air Base, 2009. It looked like Iraq. In the back row, he noticed the person he had just spoken with. McKay. His hat off, a little younger-looking, with a bit more hair. Hauck thought he could make out a major’s leaf on his uniform.
Alpha Unit. What was that?
Underneath Hauck saw a legend of names. He checked it, searching for the only one he knew. Maj. Randall McKay. He kept on looking until he found the other name he was looking for.
In the bottom row. Kneeling. A light-featured young man with a narrow, chiseled face, a hard jawline, light hair shaved close on the sides, military style, and a deep-set, expressionless stare.
Lance Cpl. John Robertson.
And next to him a smiling face in a floppy desert army hat.
Staff Sgt. Colin Adrian.
Alpha Unit had become the Alpha Group. Crisis management solutions for today’s energy and environmental issues. Seeing no one around, Hauck took out his phone and bore in closely on the gaunt, narrow face. Robertson. And snapped the shot.
What the hell went on out there? Hauck stared closely at his face on the army photo.
In the field.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Back in his car, Hauck called in to Brooke at Talon. “I need another favor.”
“You really are trying to get me in trouble, aren’t you?” she said, only half in jest.
“I need you to look into the 301st Army Airborne Division. More specifically, into something called Alpha Unit. They were in Iraq or Afghanistan. I need to know specifically what they’re about and what they did over there.”
“Alpha Unit. The 301st Airborne. I’ll get it as soon as I can. But Ty, I can’t let you hang up just yet. Mr. Foley said he’ll have my ass if you called in again and I didn’t put you on. And I only half think that he was joking.”
Hauck knew his boss was perfectly capable of doing something like that, canning someone, simply to make his point to someone else. “Don’t worry about Tom. I’ve got your back. Just get me that information as quick as you can. And Brooke …”
“Yes.”
“This stays between us? Not anyone else in the company.”
“That goes without saying, Ty.”
“Especially Foley.”
“So I guess you did, after all …?” He could hear the tiny smile in her voice.
“Did what?” he asked “Get involved.”
“Let’s just say something’s got my attention out here. And you know how that always seems to go.”
“Yes.” Brooke sighed. “I do know.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Dani hung with Trey’s buddies Rudy and John Booth at the café in town, until they said that they had to head back to Carbondale. John played in a band and had a gig tonight in Glenwood Springs. They asked if she wanted to ride back with them.
“No. My stuff is in my uncle’s car,” she said. “He texted he’s on his way.”
She gave them both a hug. It had been a tearful ceremony. Both John and Rudy had asked to say something at it. They’d lost one of their own. Dani had her doubts, of course, about what had happened. But she didn’t share them. At least, not until she knew if they led anywhere. She and Ty had already crossed the line a bit with Allie and Trey’s father.
“We’ll see you back in town.” John Booth waved.
After the guys left, Dani stuck around the café. The waitress came up, a woman of about fifty, her dark brown hair in an old-fashioned bob. She was cheerful. Everyone seemed to know each other in here. Small town.
“I see your friends have left. Can I get you anything else?” she asked.
“How about a refill on the coffee, thanks …” Dani checked her watch. Ty had texted he was on his way. This wasn’t exactly Starbucks, she acknowledged to herself. Lattes and macchiato would be a foreign language here.
“Never seen the lot of you before. What brings you all to town?” the waitress asked as she came back with a pot and refilled Dani’s cup.
“We came for a funeral,” Dani said.
“Oh,” she said. “Chuck Watkins’s boy?”
Dani nodded.
“So sorry to hear about that. I knew him a bit, growing up, before he went off. Seems like he died the way he lived, though. He was certainly not one to hold back.”