Chapter 8
Late Tuesday Morning
Mac woke with a start, unsure of where she was. The room in the strange house was exceedingly quiet. She lay there, picking up little clues, pipes pinging, no not pipes, the electric coils of the baseboard heat. Ah a truck on the street – outside of Bobbi Jo’s house. It came back now. After a moment, she pulled the time from her from her head – 0943 hours. Damn she had slept a long time. Well, no that was wrong, only four hours and six minutes. She rolled out of bed and entered the hallway. The door to Bobbi Jo’s room was open, the queen size bed already made. It wasn’t until she was under the shower that she considered last night and early this morning.
Sam Nichols had loudly protested all the way into town. Finally, Clay had pulled his gun and quietly advised him to consider if anyone in the state government would really mind if he put Nichols out of everyone’s misery. After locking him in a cell and posting three Marine guards outside, they had started on Loraine, who for the first time since Mac had met the woman, was jabbering away, giving blow by blow details of every nasty thing that Nichols had encouraged her in. Mac shuddered under the pulsing spray and though the water was blisteringly hot, she didn’t think the chill would ever leave her soul. She had known people like this existed, but to encounter it face to face, to have a hand in bringing it down was almost as exciting as the tribunal she had taken part in. She dried off and went back through the house, knowing it was empty, wondering how she would get back to the police station, finally deciding she needed to walk off the tension.
There was coffee and a note. "Call this number and someone will come out to drive you into town – not that it’s that far. Clay said you might want to walk. If so…." Mac read the directions and smiled. Clay knew her so well. The camaraderie they felt toward each other was back. He had saved her life again yesterday.
As she walked through the chill morning air, she allowed herself to take in the beauty of the small town. An old man, as he was getting into his pickup truck nodded to her, "Mornin’."
"Good morning." When was the last time anyone had said good morning to her when she walked the streets of Georgetown? Maybe small town life wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Yeah right. This case was unusual. What had Bobbi Jo said last night? Well, we’ve used up the quota for interesting for the next ten years, for the entire three- state region. Before this came to light, and I guess Daddy’s murder was just an extension of this mess, the most exciting thing we did was bring in Dooley every third night or so and make him clean up the vomit from his cell each morning before he left. The boys patrol the county. Domestic disputes are our most lethal situations and lord they get repetitious. The county prosecutor is a former deputy, so that tells you how smart he is. And, he usually wins. I have got to get out of this town. No. Mac loved the variety of her job. But she realized she was getting tired of the travel. And she knew she could never be a private attorney. She liked prosecuting the bad guys too much. But, as a JAG lawyer, she sometimes defended people who made her skin crawl and she knew she wasn’t as good as Rabb at submerging those feelings. It wasn’t until the tall spire of the courthouse was in sight that she realized what she was doing. She was planning her future. She was going to leave JAG.
There were dozens of cars parked up and down the street. She noticed television trucks and men milling around. She was glad she wasn’t in uniform. The jeans and sweater she wore should protect her.
"Excuse me, sweetheart." A man with a microphone jumped out from a group of milling men. "Hey Mikie, this one’s a looker. She’ll be sweet on the news. "Honey, tell us. How long have you lived in this town?"
She glared at him and tried to push past, but now the other reporters, freed for a moment from their boredom, surrounded her.
"Damn, you’re a cute one. How does it feel to live in a town that is going to be under this much scrutiny?
"You know Miss Loraine?"
"Hell, she looks like she could work for Miss Loraine."
"You’re a pig, Simmons. Sweetheart, tell us your name."
She looked toward the door of the police station and saw it open. AJ was standing there glaring out at her. He said something over his soldier and she knew that he was sending in the Marines to rescue her. Well this Marine didn’t need to be rescued. Stepping against the mob she pushed and they wouldn’t move. "Gentlemen. I would be interested in knowing what a federal judge would say if any of you tried to bring charges against me."
"Huh?" The growing crowd of reporters stilled, though no camera was put away. "Why would we bring charges against you?" One brave soul fell for her line.
"Because, if you don’t get out of my way this instant, I’m going to be forced to take action and the last time I past my hand-to-hand certification, I aced it." She brought up her hands and using them as a lever pushed a path open in the sea of reporters.
"Oh shit. You’re one of them. What are you, honey? An federal agent?"
Well yes, technically she was. "And if you so much as touch me as I pass, I’ll bring YOU up on charges so fast you’re head will spin!" They cleared a path for her, but she knew that unless there was something to replace her passage and words by the noon news, they would run with that footage.
"Hey, Sarah!" A voice called out and she turned to find Mark Hobson of DC’s Channel 4 waving at her. "Hey! Tell Chegwidden I want an interview!"
"You got it, Mark! I’ll pass it along." At least Mark would make sure not to run the footage in DC. He knew better. The door opened and several Marines in BDUs were standing there glaring out on the crowd.
"Good of you to finally join us, Colonel." His voice was hard and as she met his gaze she knew that the decision that had begin formulating in the back of her mind was set. Now all she needed was a goal.
"Sir. What can I do to help?" She would be as professional as he demanded. But, she could no longer work under his command knowing that he wanted her and knowing he would make no move to make it work or even talk to her about it. It had gone too far and she was tired of the bullshit.
He must have seen something in her eyes because he visibly relaxed. Perhaps he thought they could forget the kiss in the kitchen and if that had been all that it was, or perhaps if they had actually talked all those years ago, perhaps they could have got past it. But no, she refused to go back status quo. A life shouldn’t be about that.
"We’re tying up the loose ends. We should be able to leave by early this afternoon. Leave the clean up to the locals and the feds."
"Very good, sir. I’ll make arrangements for getting us back to DC."
"You do that, Colonel." Oh yeah. He definitely thought things were going back to normal. Not for long.
:: :: :: ::
"You know, Bobbi Jo, the coffee here is really awful." Webb said as he stared out the window of her office.
"Yeah, it’s the well water. I tried bringing in bottle water but the guys said it made the coffee task funny."
Well that was about as inane a conversation as he had ever had. He wanted to say something to her. Ask her to come back to DC with him. Hell, move in with him and have his babies. He snorted at that thought. One time does not a union make, even if it had been incredible. "So. You’re going to be really busy these next few months, I expect."
"Yeah. Lots of loose ends still need to be cleared up. Thank God the feds are accepting responsibility for safeguarding Loraine and Donisha. With their testimony, Old Sam is going away for a long time." She sighed. "But I don’t think they will ever charge him with even conspiracy to kill Daddy. Particularly, if Loraine is right and it was Ryan who pulled the trigger."
"He’s going away for a long time."
"I know. The trial will be long and the circus will be on the television every night once it starts. I suppose you will come down to testify."
"Me? God, I doubt it. I was never here. Hell, I suspect that we will be able to gloss over Rabb’s involvement too. He isn’t going to want to publicly get up and tell how mountain folk kidnapped him and tried to improve the line with his sperm. As far as the attempted gay bashing, all the participants are dead now so, no. I don’t think I will have to get on the stand and lie under oath –something I’ve never done and would like to continue. But then that’s because I avoid it like the plague. Yeah, I expect that there’s a nice long mission, out of the country, in my future. As long as it’s not back to Suriname."
"You ever going to tell me about that?" They both knew what she was asking. And they both knew the answer so he didn’t respond.
"Well," she said after moment, "I guess there’s no reason for you to stick around."
"Bobbi Jo," he said softly.
"Hey." She stood and walked over to him. "It was wonderful. Something I needed. You’ll never know how much I needed it. You made me feel clean again. Even talking dirty, you made me feel like sex wasn’t an abomination." She stretched up and brought her lips to his. He wrapped his arms around her and thoroughly explored her willing mouth with his lips and tongue. When they parted, she laid her head against his chest. "You best be going."
"Damn it, Bobbi Jo. Your talents are wasted down here. Come up to DC." He kissed the top of her head. "I’ll show you around. We…we…"
"Hush up, Clay."
He took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. "Damn it, Bobbi Jo, you owe me that fantasy."
"Oh yeah? Well give me a call the next time you’re in the neighborhood. Or, you never know, I might come on up to DC." Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "But you have to go now. I’ve got issues I have to deal with, here," she waved her hand taking in the office and town around her, "and here." She touched her hand to her chest. "Go on, Mr. Webb. We have to get on with our lives.
:: :: :: ::
AJ refused to turn and look at her sitting in the back of the Jeep. Something was different. Something very bad was going to happen. He knew it. He wanted nothing more for things to go back to the way they were before this disaster. Sure he did. He wouldn’t pursue a relationship with her, for her sake. Damn it, he no longer cared about his career. JAG was as far as he was going. Even with Nelson gone and Sheffield in his place, there was nowhere he would go except another desk job in his beloved Navy. He had served his thirty years. Maybe now was the time to consider his options. Stop it you old fool. What else do you have?
"The helio will pick us up in ten minutes, sir."
"Thank you, Colonel." See back to normal. He was imagining things.
"Wale, you two should be glad to be getting back to what ya’ll know." Horace said from the driver’s seat.
"That’s right, Deputy." AJ agreed. Mac said nothing, but AJ, in responding to Horace was able to see her out of the corner of his eye. She wasn’t even looking at him. She was staring out the window. Horace had been wrong about that. Mountain wisdom, my ass. "I imagine you will be glad to get back to your routine, Evans." He could make conversation; show her that things were the same. They would never mention the kiss. It didn’t happen.
"Not for a while, I ‘spect. Course Bobbi Jo, she’ll have things to do now. I don’t expect she will stay once everything is over. She don’t get along with her momma all that well and lord knows, that girl is too smart for this town."
"Well if she needs any references, you tell her to call me."
"Sure ‘nuff, AJ." He pulled up to the field and the helio was already waiting for them. "Well, I guess you expect me to say, ya’ll come back now, ya here, but that sounds kinda stupid. Ya’ll take care of each other."
Mac let the shock of his words show on her face, but she quickly hid it and picking up both suitcases from the back of the police vehicle, hurried to the waiting copter and handed them up to a sailor.
AJ just studied the Deputy for a moment, then held out his hand. "Thank you for helping me get my man back."
"Sure nuff." Horace held onto the grasp for a beat longer than necessary, then dropped it and sighed. "You’re a fool, Chegwidden."
"If you say so, Horace." AJ turned and walked back to his life.
:: :: :: ::
Monday Morning
One month later
The words swam before his eyes. His heart was pounding and he wasn’t sure that he could speak to her without yelling or perhaps sobbing. "Mac?" he opened, trying hard to maintain his air of professionalism.
"Sir?"
He held up the paper. "What’s this about? Haven’t you gone down this road before? Didn’t you tell me that this would never happen again?"
"Sir, I have weighed my options. This is a great opportunity for me to expand my knowledge and work with a wider range of cases."
"Drug dealers, Mac! If you’re lucky! You think you’ll be trying headline cases any time soon?"
"Sir, I will do what has to be done. I’m sure for the first few years I will be low man on the totem pole. I will have to take courses to brush up on matters not military. It will be different, but I am excited about it."
"I won’t conveniently lock this in a drawer this time, Colonel. You do this and you will not come back."
"Of course not, sir." Their eyes met for a brief moment and the pain they saw in the other was almost overwhelming. They both knew what it was about and they both knew it was the only course of action. The past month had been hell. He had given her no speeches; she had given him no searching glances, none that he had caught anyway. They had both taken to avoiding the coffee room if they thought the other was even on the same floor. But the tension was so great that everyone knew something was wrong.
"This is effective immediately. You’re not even going to stay and train your replacement?"
"Not my place, sir." She bit off. "Whoever you choose will need to work with you and adjust to the way he or she sees fit. I would only introduce my own peculiarities. You’ll do better staring from scratch, sir."
He wanted to stand up and shake her. Make her tear it up. Wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, tell her they could try. But the look on her face said no. He knew she was right too. It would never work. If she stayed in DC they could never be seen together socially. The rumor mill in this town was ruthless. "Very well then, Colonel." He quickly signed the forms. "Give these to Tiner, he’ll make sure they are processed."
She came to attention and he leaned back in his chair to consider her. Wanting to at least part on a good note, he allowed a sigh to escape his lips. "You’re a good officer, Mac. You will be missed."
He could see the pain in her eyes. See the anger and mostly the disappointment there. "Bullshit, sir. This will be easier on both of us. Be happy in your life, AJ. You won’t be seeing me again." With that she turned and marched out of his life.
:: :: :: ::
Six months later
Thursday Evening.
Webb was tired. The trip that had started in Russia had accomplished more than he expected. Not only had he been out of the country for the entire debacle; but, he had been so successful that he figured he was right back where he had been within the agency before the Angel Shark.
But he had missed out on so much. He was completely out of the loop. That was one of the reasons why he had jumped at the chance to have dinner with Jason Seaborn, recently transferred to DC to head up a new task force to further delve into the mess that Webb and Rabb had been working on before the whole thing had dissolved into a frenzied version of a bad southern novel.
They sat in a comfortable but upscale Chinese restaurant three blocks from the Hoover. "Clay, I’m telling you, Sam sang like a nightingale," Seaborn said before plopping another slice of Hunan Beef in his mouth.
Evidently, Sam Nichols decided that since he was dying of cancer anyway why not take everyone with him. His testimony started a nationwide scandal that spanned three states, brought down several state senators in each and even spread to the nation’s capitol. He brought down the whole house of cards before someone caught him in the shower and left him bleeding to death.
"Son-of-a-whore had a smile on his face." Seaborn grinned. "Almost like he welcomed it."
"Yeah, sorry I missed it." Clay grinned as he dug into his Stir-Fried Crab with Garlic and Hot Pepper. "Man, I feel like the new kid on the block. Nothing’s the same."
Sam blushed and wouldn’t look at him. "You missed the wedding."
Clay leaned back in the booth and let his eyes focus somewhere above Seaborn’s left shoulder. "Shit. It was weird enough to hear about Mac leaving. I didn’t hear about the blow up at JAG over Rabb and Manetti until I got back. She must have kicked his ass but good."
Seaborn’s angry growl drew his attention back to his dinner companion. "He shouldn’t have done it, Webb. Tracy is a good kid."
"Yeah, and Annie Pendry is a good lady. I knew her, met her son; damn near got him killed." He drifted back into memory before sighing. "It’s a first though. Never heard of a former girl friend ever coming back to Rabb. I wonder what made her do it?"
"Her kid got in trouble with drugs at school."
"You’re kidding me? He wasn’t that old." He did the math and sighed. "Or maybe I’m refusing to see reality."
"Yeah."
"Hey. How did you find out?" Webb sipped from the bottle of Tsing Tao beer to cut the spicy dish. It had been a while since he had a really good meal with a kick. If he never tasted boiled cabbage again it would be too soon.
At Seaborn’s blush Webb smiled. "So how does it feel to be the best friend?"
"It stinks."
"Tell me about it."
"You going to track down MacKenzie?"
"Me? Heck no. Hell, I’ve been celibate for the past six months. It almost feels natural."
"Yeah, I guess being around women dressed in veils and robes will do that to you."
Webb didn’t bother to correct him. Yes, he had spent a great deal of time back in Afghanistan, Iran and Iraq, but the women in Russia were fine, tall, rail thin, mostly blond, nothing at all like a fire-cracker little southern sheriff. But he wasn’t going there. "So, what are you going to do about Manetti?"
Again Seaborn blushed. "Well actually, we have a date, later tonight. She’s going to meet us here and then we are going to a Jazz club. You want to go with us? It will make it easier. It’s our first real date and I think she’s gun shy."
"Are you insane?" Webb ignored the look Seaborn gave him. Didn’t really understand it but he returned to his food. "So how are you settling in at the JEH?"
"Its fine. Though, it’s every bit as political as I expected. I-I’m putting together a good team, Webb."
"I’m sure you are. I guess we will be working together on a couple of things. At least that’s what the current boss is telling me."
"Oh yeah." Webb saw that look again. "Yeah, I think I’m going to need your input on a couple of things. You think you could stop in tomorrow afternoon. Meet the team. Maybe answer some questions?"
"Sure. All I’m doing at work is catching up on the gossip and putting stuff in order in the office."
"Great. Oh hi." Seaborn’s voice softened.
Webb didn’t even bother to turn around. "Hi Tracy."
"Mr. Webb, it’s good to see you made it back." Tracy settled next to Seaborn and held out her hand. When Webb took it she smiled and then glanced at Seaborn. "So. You guys about ready?"
"Yeah. It was good seeing you, Seaborn. Tracy, good choice," Webb said as he stood and took out his wallet. He furrowed his brow at the look that passed between the two and ignored Seaborn’s protest as he threw two twenties on the table. "See you tomorrow at 3:00?"
"Yeah. Tomorrow at 3:00."
:: :: :: ::
Friday Morning
AJ slapped the intercom with more force than was necessary. "What is it Tiner!" He growled. He always growled now. Even Harriet had started avoiding him.
"S-sir, Mr. Webb is here…dang it, Mr. Webb!"
AJ glared as the door to his office opened. "Don’t you ever wait to be announced?" He snapped at the figure he had come to blame for the pain in his life. He had reasonably determined that had Webb not brought that information six months ago and then agreed to go with Rabb on that damn road trip, everything would have remained the same. On an intellectual level he knew that boat wouldn’t float, but still it felt good to blame the spy.
"Thank you for asking, AJ. And yes I had a lovely trip. Even lost a little weight in the process. I feel great! You however look like shit!"
"Webb, I’ve thought about breaking your nose so often these past five months, don’t tempt me."
"Son-of-a-bitch. You’re going to try and blame this on me?" Webb grinned and flopped down gracefully in a chair, the chair that Sarah had always sat in when she and Rabb would come into the office. Everything was changing. Manetti was just getting over her high-blown fully justified funk. Even though no one else had been surprised at the blow up and very public break up between Rabb and the Lieutenant Commander. He was surprised at the catalyst though. And as much as he liked Annie Pendry, he suspected that Rabb would have his hands full with his new stepson. Well maybe that was what Rabb needed. A project. Turner, thank God was steady and as good a lawyer as Rabb had been, without the histrionics. He and Manetti made a good team. Rabb was taking to his newly assigned permanent Judgeship with relish, saying it allowed him to be home with Annie and Josh at this important breaking in period. Oh yeah, the fireworks there would keep everyone jumping for a long time.
"What’s on your mind, Webb?"
"Me. Purely a social call, AJ."
"Balls. You’ve never made a purely social call in your life."
"Actually, that hurt." Webb sighed and AJ realized he meant it. "I really did just stop by to see everyone. Is Harriet pregnant – again?"
AJ nodded. "Yeah. I’m a little worried about her. Two pregnancies on top of each other can’t be good. Little Buddy is a handful."
"Damn, does she have a good nanny?"
"I don’t know. Bud and Harriet are trying to live within their salaries. I think she is seriously considering leaving the Navy after this one." AJ let go of his anger at Webb. It was good to talk about this with someone who he knew would leave it in his office after the door closed behind him. "Everything is changing, Webb. You heard about the wedding?"
"Yeah, I tried to make it back but the attack in Karachi made it impossible."
"I read about that. Heard you almost died there."
Webb shrugged. "Happens every day. So I see you’re still stuck with Singer. She finally made Lieutenant Commander."
"Yeah. But, I think being a single parent has made her take stock in her goals."
"Oh lord, the woman who would be JAG is changing her mind?"
"Well, I know she has requested a permanent billet, even though it will slow or halt her advancement."
"Has she ever named the father?"
"No and I never asked. None of my affair, Webb."
"Christ, AJ, you were in Black Ops. Where’s your curiosity." Webb grinned.
"Where it belongs." AJ looked down at the paperwork that had little to do with anything important. "Anything else?"
"How’s Sarah?"
He had been prepared for the question. "I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen anything of her since she walked out that door almost five months ago." Four months, twenty-five days, six hours. He shook his head, and met Webb’s gaze. "Why?"
"She’s a friend, AJ. I like to keep track of my friends?"
AJ wanted off this track right now. He wondered if Webb knew. "So, have you seen, oh what was her name? Sheriff Thibodeau?"
He was pleased with the flicker of pain that he discerned in the spy’s eyes. "No, AJ. I’m sure that she is still in the middle of cleaning up that county of hers."
He didn’t know. Well, well. Before AJ could at least gloat, the spy stood and said softly, "Well I’ll let you get back to your job, AJ. I’m sure you have a lot to do."
AJ glared at Webb’s back then at the closed door and finally at the request for a decision on whether or not the head of the Navy’s presence in Iraq could serve wine to the head of the Army’s presence in Iraq. No Iraqis would be present at said wine serving. "For Christ sake, read the fucking rules or ask any number of the various Army or Navy JAG officers floating around. Who the hell do they think I am, the pope who can give a fucking dispensation!" It was getting harder each day.
:: :: :: ::
After giving his congratulations to Bud and Harriet, slipping her the name of a reasonable nanny service and giving a quick hello to Sturgis Turner, he started for the elevator. When it opened he had to catch Tracy to keep her from barreling into him. "Commander."
"Mr. Webb!" Her voice squeaked. "W-what are you doing here?" She quickly glanced on her watch. "Oh, it’s not as late as I thought." She heaved a sigh of relief.
Webb grinned and said shyly, "Late lunch?" The blush on her face told the story. He leaned in. "Good girl. Seaborn is a much better catch."
"Mr. Webb!" Tracy came to her full height. "I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about."
"Of course." Webb grinned and stepped into the elevator. However, when he turned around to face her he found that odd look on her face. Like she knew something that he didn’t. What? He was a goddamn spy. Damn, he hated being out of the know. Everybody knew stuff that he didn’t. It would take him forever to get back into the swing of things. Well at least this meeting at the FBI ought to be a start. He would get to know the players.
As he stepped out into the early afternoon heat he started to loosen his tie. He really had liked not wearing a tie. But even in the late summer, he was in DC and he left the tie alone. He would have just enough time to grab a quick bite and make it to the Hoover for his 3:00 o’clock.