Finding Monica, page 9
Monica stopped speaking and waited for the commander’s next question.
“What else?”
She frowned. “What else what?”
“What else can you tell me about him? I need more than that if I’m going to ID him.”
“Um…he had a tattoo on his left forearm,” Monica said.
The commander leaned forward. “Of what?”
“I don’t know.”
Monica jumped when the man slammed his palm on the table and barked, “Think!”
“Sir—” Mustang began, but Stuart wasn’t as composed as his friend.
He abruptly stood and put a hand on the table as he leaned toward his boss. “Not happening,” he said in a tone Monica hadn’t heard from him before. It was low and extremely pissed off. “You and I both know forcing Miss Collins to be here wasn’t exactly legal. But she still came. She’s trying to help, and you scaring the shit out of her isn’t going to make her remember anything else. Ease. Off.”
Monica held her breath. She was certain Stuart was about to be thrown in the brig any second. She had no idea if the Navy still used such a thing, but she didn’t think there was any way the commander would put up with one of his subordinates speaking to him like that. And she was right.
“You know I can put a letter of reprimand in your file for continually talking to me like this, right?” the commander asked Stuart in a stern voice.
Monica tensed further. She didn’t like being the reason Stuart might get in trouble.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Stuart replied. “But Monica is doing the best she can.”
To her surprise, the commander sat back in his chair. “I know.” He turned to her. “I appreciate your assistance.”
Monica was surprised at the man’s sudden acquiescence.
He then stood and began to pace. “This situation is delicate,” the commander told them.
“Then explain it to us,” Mustang said. “When I tried to discuss it yesterday, you said you’d brief me later. It’s later.”
“Not in front of a civilian.”
“Monica might be a civilian, but in order to work in the ambassador’s home, she had to get security clearance,” Stuart pointed out. “And she’s involved. It’s obvious she’s one of the best leads you have to catch this guy, whoever he is, and it seems increasingly obvious her life may be in danger because of him. The least you can do after forcing her to upend her existence and come to Hawaii is share why IDing this guy is so important.”
The commander released a frustrated sigh. “Because this guy is good. Really fucking good. He’s got an unending number of aliases and he’s able to slip into any country he wants without leaving a trace. His MO is the same everywhere he goes. He picks countries dealing with civil unrest and blends in with the protestors. He incites them to violence, leads the charge in looting, helping himself to whatever he can get his hands on, then he disappears like the wind when things have spiraled out of control.”
“How do you know all this?” Mustang asked.
“Because he’s been taunting us,” the commander answered.
“How?” Stuart asked.
“By sending encrypted emails.”
“To who?” Stuart pressed.
“High-ranking Naval commanders. Myself, Storm North, Dag Creasy, Patrick Hurt, and others. SEAL commanders,” Huttner clarified.
“Shit,” Mustang swore.
“He really was a SEAL?” Monica asked softly.
“Probably,” the commander verified. “I’d bet my career on it.”
“Could it be someone from a team that’s been assigned to the area?” Stuart asked.
“No. I’ve already checked. There were two other SEAL teams helping with the extraction of civilians in Algiers, and they were all accounted for when Monica said she saw this guy. He’s older, like Monica suggested, and I’m thinking he’s retired…or maybe he was kicked out of the Navy and now he’s pissed.”
“And using his training to ‘stick it to the man’ so-to-speak,” Mustang said.
“Exactly. But he’s escalating. There was a particular incident in Hong Kong a while back, and this asshole claimed to have beaten, raped, and killed three women in the midst of the chaos…which was later confirmed. Same thing in Barcelona, Beirut, Santiago…he takes great pride in emailing details about the people he’s killed.”
The commander paused in his pacing to reach for the tablet he’d been taking notes on while interviewing Monica. He clicked on it a few times, then handed it to Mustang. “While you were traveling back from Algeria, he sent that to me and the other commanders.”
Monica itched to see what the email said, but she sat quietly as Mustang read the screen. Without a word, he passed the tablet to Stuart. Monica studied his face as he read, and it was obvious whatever the mystery man had sent, it wasn’t good. Stuart’s jaw ticked in agitation and his breathing sped up.
“Damn,” he said when he was done, handing the tablet back across the table to Huttner.
“This behavior is partly why I insisted Ms. Collins accompany you,” the commander said.
“What’d he say?” Monica asked, not able to keep quiet anymore.
“It wasn’t what he said, so much as the picture that accompanied his email,” Huttner answered.
“Can I see it?” Monica asked.
All three men tensed. “No,” Mustang and Stuart said in unison. The same time their commander said, “Yes.”
“She doesn’t need to see that,” Stuart insisted.
“Maybe if she does, she’ll understand that I’m not trying to be an asshole,” Huttner countered. “She’s one of the only people we know of who’s seen this guy, who might be able to identify him. If my assumption is right, and he’s a former SEAL, maybe she can ID him from pictures.”
“You know the chances of that are slim to none,” Stuart argued. “He had his face covered, and there’s no telling how long it’s been since he was active duty.”
“She’s all we have right now. And the longer he’s out there, the more people are in danger,” Huttner insisted.
Stuart and his commander glared at each other, neither backing down.
“If you’re worried about me seeing something gruesome, don’t be. I’ve seen a dead body before.”
At her words, all three men turned to stare at her in disbelief.
“What?” Stuart asked.
She couldn’t really blame him for being shocked. Her declaration had come out of left field. But she wanted to assure the men that she wasn’t going to faint away at whatever picture the former SEAL had emailed.
She addressed the commander. “My father wasn’t a good man. He was paranoid and obsessed with security around our property. When I was twelve, a man was hunting and accidentally wandered onto our land. He stepped into one of the traps my dad had set out. His leg was completely mangled, and he was in a lot of pain. My father made me go with him when he confronted the man, and when he didn’t believe his story that he’d been hunting and had gotten turned around, my dad shot him in the head. Point blank. Then he made me help him drag the man’s body to his truck and go with him up into the mountains, where I had to help dig a hole to bury him.”
Monica could’ve heard a pin drop in the room, it was so silent.
She’d been so eager to assure the men that she could handle whatever was in the picture that she hadn’t thought through her confession. She began to shake, wondering if she’d be thrown into the brig herself, now that she’d admitted to not only being a witness to murder, but helping to dispose of a body.
“When I escaped my father, I wrote an anonymous letter to the police,” she continued softly, not able to stop her shaking. “I told them what happened and where they could find the man’s body. I knew his family had to be suffering during the years he’d been missing. Wondering where he was and what happened to him. All I’m saying is that, if that guy sent a picture of something violent…I’m not going to fall apart by seeing it.”
To her surprise, instead of immediately hauling her up and putting her in handcuffs, the commander sighed and sat back down in his chair, studying her.
Stuart reached over and took her left hand in his, holding it tightly. For once, she didn’t flinch at someone touching her mangled fingers. His thumb brushed back and forth soothingly over the back of her hand.
“Tell me your father went to jail,” Mustang said.
Monica shook her head. “I can’t. The police investigated, but I can only assume my dad had moved the body at some point. So there was no evidence against him except my word. But karma got him in the end. He fell out of a deer stand and froze to death one winter.”
“Good.”
The single word was said with such feeling and satisfaction, Monica couldn’t help but blow out a breath in relief.
“Show her,” Stuart said.
The commander slid the tablet across the table and Monica picked it up with her right hand, as Stuart hadn’t let go of her left.
She inhaled sharply at seeing the picture in the email. A petite blonde woman was lying on a pink comforter. She was nude, her blue eyes staring sightlessly up at the ceiling, her limbs obviously posed in a starfish position. There was a bright red pool of blood around her body, glaringly obscene against the pretty pink flowers of the bedding. A knife was sticking out of her chest, right where her heart would be.
Swallowing hard, realizing the woman kind of looked like her, Monica turned her attention to the words accompanying the picture.
* * *
I’d like you to meat my latest work of art. Isn’t she pretty? Pictures are better in the raw, makes the blood stand out more. As always, there will be no fingerprints, no DNA evidence, nothing that will show I was here at all. I’m no bull in a china shop. I was taught by the best. They said I was insane…does this look like the work of an insane man? The answer is no. I’m in control at all times. I know exactly what I’m doing, and you’ll never catch me until I want to be caught.
* * *
“Holy shit,” Monica breathed. As much as she didn’t really want to look at the picture again, she turned her attention to it once more.
“What do you see?” Stuart asked quietly.
“It was quick,” Monica said. “She doesn’t have any defensive wounds on her hands, unless he cleaned them up. It reminds me of putting an animal out of its misery after being shot. That was my dad’s favorite part of hunting. Plunging a knife into the animal’s heart.”
“She’s right,” Huttner said.
Ignoring him, Monica continued. “And that knife looks a lot like the one you gave me.” She was well aware that Stuart hadn’t exactly given her his K-BAR to keep, but it was a moot point at the moment.
“I noticed that too,” Mustang said. “It’s the kind most SEALs are issued and prefer to use.”
Monica took a deep breath and pushed the tablet back across the table toward the commander. She tightened her hold on Stuart’s hand with her thumb, needing the connection with another human right now. “I didn’t get a good look at his tattoo. I mean, I did, but it’s a blur in my mind. It was all black, I know that much. And it took up most of his forearm. It might’ve had a snake on it? I’m sorry. I was more worried about running and making sure he didn’t find me than memorizing identifying marks.”
“It’s more than we had before,” the commander said. “Thank you.”
“That email sounds off,” Mustang noted.
Stuart nodded. “It’s grammatically correct, except for him using m-e-a-t instead of m-e-e-t.”
“He claims he left no trace behind,” Mustang said, “but that last line makes it sound as if he wants someone to figure out who he is.”
“But what’s his motivation?” Stuart asked.
“Revenge?” Mustang asked with a shrug.
“If he got kicked out, maybe he’s trying to prove that the Navy made a mistake,” Stuart said.
“And that part about being insane…maybe records should be searched for anyone who was discharged for a mental condition? Something that maybe wouldn’t quality for a disability pension?” Mustang asked, turning to the commander.
“Already on it,” the older man reassured him.
Watching Stuart and his team leader brainstorm was fascinating. They bounced ideas off each other seamlessly and were definitely on the same page.
“You can see why it’s so important we catch this guy,” Commander Huttner told Monica. His chocolate-brown gaze bored into her own, making it hard for her to look away. “He escalated from causing disturbances and inciting riots, to theft, and then murder. He has to be stopped. And you’re the only one who’s come face-to-face with him and lived to talk about it—that we know of. You’re a very lucky woman, Ms. Collins. There’s every possibility that it could’ve been you on that bed with the knife in your heart. I need your help. The country needs your help. Women literally around the world need your help to help prevent them from being his next victim.”
He was laying it on thick…but it was working. Monica knew she’d feel extremely guilty if something happened to someone else if she could’ve prevented it. Still… “I’m not sure what else I can tell you,” she said quietly.
“Maybe you can look through dossiers of former SEALs. See if anything about them strikes a chord.”
“How many files are you talking about?” Monica asked.
Huttner winced and dropped his gaze. “SEALs make up only about one percent of Navy personnel. But we’ll do our best to narrow it down for you. By age and dishonorable or mental discharge.”
Monica had a feeling even though he was trying to downplay how many files would still remain. Still, if they were narrowed down, at least that was something. Otherwise, she could probably study files for eight hours a day for a year and still not make it through all the former SEALs that were out there.
Regardless, what other choice did she have? Could she really just leave and tell the commander “good luck” and go about her life? What if this guy decided he wanted to make sure she couldn’t pass on any information to the government? She was apparently the one who got away, and it wouldn’t be too hard to find her if she continued to work for the ambassador.
She looked over at Stuart, surprised to see his gaze locked on her. She expected him to try to convince her to stay, as his boss was obviously doing, but he shocked her when he said, “Whatever you decide, you’ve got my support. This isn’t an easy decision to make, and I’m sorry you’re in the middle of it.”
“If you stay, the Navy will make it worth your while,” the commander said. “I’m sure a room will open up in the lodge soon, and you can move in there. You’ll get a stipend for living expenses. I’ll have a word with the ambassador as well. Make sure he knows that you’re serving your country and not just quitting for the hell of it.”
“He’ll hire someone else,” Monica said, looking at the man across the table. She felt a pang of remorse at the thought of never seeing August and Remington again. But their dad would find another nanny, and while she hoped they’d always have fond memories of her, they’d adjust soon enough.
“Then the Navy will help you find a job once this is over,” the commander countered.
Monica pressed her lips together. She had no idea how long IDing this man would take, but she had a feeling it wasn’t going to be a quick thing. The man was obviously very good at staying under the radar. And if the commander and all the other investigators in the Navy hadn’t been able to figure out who he was, she didn’t have high hopes that she’d come in and ID him just like that. If she decided to stay, she’d probably be here for quite a while.
Could she do it? Could she stomach being around military men all day while she went through files? She honestly wasn’t sure.
Then she felt Stuart squeeze her hand once more. Her hand with the missing fingers.
Realization hit her hard and fast. She hadn’t known this man even a week, and she felt comfortable enough with him to let him touch her mangled stubs. She didn’t feel panicky or the need to rip out of his grasp, as she had just days ago. It was confusing, and once more she felt completely out of her comfort zone.
Despite that, she found herself saying quietly, “I’ll stay and do what I can to help.”
Huttner let out a relieved breath. “Great. I’ll set up a computer you can use to start looking through files. If you’re willing, I’ll contact an interrogator who’s really good at what she does, who might be able to help you to remember something you don’t realize you know. And there’s a hypnotist that the Navy has used in the past. I’ll see about arranging that too.”
“Easy, Sir,” Stuart said quietly. “Monica’s said she’ll stay and help, there’s no need to do everything in one day. She needs clothes and other essentials. She arrived in Hawaii with nothing. Paperwork needs to be done to set up the allowance as well.”
“Right. Of course. But she’ll need to come in every weekday and look at files.”
“She will.”
Monica should’ve been annoyed that the two men were talking about her life as if she wasn’t sitting right there…but it felt too good to have Stuart sticking up for her, despite how nervous he made her. She wouldn’t have minded starting on the files right then and there, but admittedly, she was overwhelmed. While there was a chance she’d get lucky and be able to quickly pinpoint the man the commander was desperate to find, it wasn’t likely.
“I’ll keep you updated about an opening at the lodge,” Huttner said.
Monica didn’t know if he was talking to her or Stuart, but supposed it didn’t matter.
