Chapter 18
Bert stood in the armory, checking off items on his tablet as he handed Casper the specialized rifle requested for the upcoming surveillance operation. The weapon was perfectly calibrated, cleaned, and tested just that morning, and Bert had personally verified the scope alignment.
“Should be perfect,” Bert said, logging the equipment assignment. “I upgraded the night vision scope to the newer model. Better clarity in low light conditions.”
Casper examined the rifle with his usual methodical precision, his movements economical and silent. After a moment, he nodded once. “Good. Thank you.”
Casper was a man of few words, and Bert had learned to read Casper’s minimalist communication style. That single nod conveyed approval, satisfaction, and gratitude in one efficient gesture.
Frazier was next, collecting gear for a protection detail in Denver.
Bert walked him through the equipment list: body armor, communications gear, a standard sidearm and backup, a tactical flashlight, a first-aid kit, and the portable jamming device they’d recently acquired for situations when electronic surveillance was a concern.
“This jammer is new,” Bert explained, demonstrating the controls. “Thirty-foot radius, blocks cell signals, GPS tracking, and most listening devices. Battery life is about six hours continuous use, eight if you’re cycling it on and off.”
“Nice.” Frazier tested the weight and balance of the device, nodding approvingly. “This would have been useful in Mexico last month. I had to improvise with some sketchy equipment we borrowed from the Mexican police.”
“That’s why we invested in our own. Can’t always rely on what other agencies have available.” Bert logged the jammer in his system, noting the serial number and expected return date. “You leave tomorrow morning?”
“Zero five hundred. Should be a straightforward detail, but you know how those go. ‘Straightforward’ usually means something unexpected happens.” Frazier gathered his gear and headed toward the door, then paused. “Hey, any word from Mary? Has she made it to Prince Edward Island yet?”
Bert felt his expression shift despite his attempt to stay neutral. “Yeah, she’s there. She was pretty excited about it.”
“Good for her.” Frazier’s grin turned knowing. “You must miss having her around. You two are pretty tight.”
“She’s a good friend,” Bert said, the words automatic but inadequate.
“Right. Friend.” Frazier’s tone suggested he wasn’t buying it, but he didn’t push. “See you when I get back.”
The morning continued in a similar fashion.
Dalton needed ammunition for range training with some of the other Keepers.
Todd was preparing for a security installation job in Billings and needed the portable surveillance equipment.
Cory stopped by to discuss modifications to his sniper rifle’s trigger mechanism, and they spent twenty minutes deep in the technical details of pull weight and reset characteristics.
Bert loved this part of his job. The precision of it, the technical expertise required, the knowledge that he was directly supporting missions that saved lives and protected people. Every piece of equipment he maintained and distributed was a link in a chain that kept his team safe and effective.
But today, even the satisfaction of technical work couldn’t quite fill the hollow feeling in his chest.
Around eleven, Bert was upstairs, walking toward the administrative offices, ostensibly to grab a file from Mary’s office that Logan had requested.
Budget projections for the next quarter, something Bert could easily have asked someone else to retrieve.
But his feet carried him there anyway, and he found himself standing in the doorway of Mary’s empty office, his chest tight.
The space was neat and organized, exactly as Mary had left it.
Her desk calendar was turned to the date she would be coming back, various notes and appointments marked in her precise handwriting.
A framed photo of her family sat beside her computer monitor.
The small succulent plant Sisco had given her sat on the windowsill, slightly wilted because Bert kept forgetting to water it.
He stepped inside, telling himself he was just looking for the file Logan needed.
But his eyes traveled over the details that were pure Mary.
The color-coded filing system she’d implemented.
The motivational quote tacked to her bulletin board: She believed she could, so she did.
The sweater draped over the back of her chair, a soft gray fleece that she wore when the office air-conditioning ran too cold.
Bert moved closer to the desk, checking the file folders, and caught the faint scent that lingered in the space.
Mary’s perfume or lotion, something light and outdoorsy with a hint of floral.
Soft, subtle, just like her. Not overwhelming or cloying, just a quiet presence that made him think of spring mornings and clean air and everything good about Montana.
He breathed it in without meaning to, feeling like a creep but unable to stop himself.
God, he missed her. It had only been three days, and he missed her with an intensity that was probably pathetic.
Missed seeing her roll into the operations center each morning with coffee and her tablet, ready to tackle whatever the day threw at them.
Missed the way she’d catch his eye across the room and smile, that small private smile that felt like it was just for him.
Missed the easy conversations and the comfortable silences and the way she made everything feel less overwhelming just by being there.
“You good, man?”
Bert jumped, turning to find Sisco standing in the doorway with an amused expression.
“Yeah. Fine. Just grabbing a file for Logan.” Bert snatched the folder he’d supposedly come for and moved toward the door, feeling his face heat.
“Uh-huh.” Sisco didn’t move, blocking the exit with crossed arms and a knowing grin. “You know, it’s okay to admit you miss her. No one’s going to judge you for sniffing her sweater.”
“I’m not—” Bert started, then gave up. “Damn.”
“Brother, you’ve been walking around like someone kicked your puppy for two days.” Sisco’s expression softened. “How’s she doing? You talk to her today?”
“Last night. She had a good day visiting the sites. Sounds like she’s having fun.”
“Good. She deserves it.” Sisco studied Bert for a moment. “You know what she deserves even more? You.”
“I’m working on it,” he admitted. “And for the record, I’m not pining.”
“You’re standing in her empty office smelling her sweater. That’s the definition of pining.”
Bert caught Sisco’s expression and chuckled. “Shut up, man.”
“I’m just saying, life’s too short, bro. Don’t waste time when you could be spending it with someone who makes you happy.”
Sisco moved aside to let Bert pass, and Bert escaped to the relative safety of the equipment room. But the conversation stayed with him, echoing Logan’s words and Landon’s advice and his own increasingly insistent thoughts.
The afternoon staff meeting didn’t help. Logan reviewed current operations, upcoming missions, budget considerations, and general updates. Toward the end, as people gathered their things, Devlin spoke up.
“How’s Mary doing? Has anyone heard from her?”
All eyes turned to Bert because they knew if anyone had heard from her, it would be him. He was the one Mary texted and called daily and the one who’d driven her to the airport.
“She’s good,” Bert said, keeping his tone casual. “Visited Green Gables yesterday. She said it was everything she hoped for. Today, they’re touring fishing villages along the coast.”
“Did she send pictures?” Sadie asked, genuine interest in her expression.
“A few. The landscape is beautiful. Very different from Montana.” Bert pulled out his phone and showed them a photo Mary had sent that morning. It was a harbor filled with colorful boats, red sand beaches in the background, and the distinctive architecture of Maritime Canada.
“Gorgeous,” Vivian said, leaning over to look. She’d come to headquarters to meet with Logan. “I’d love to visit there someday. Logan, we should add it to our vacation possibilities.”
“Whatever you want,” Logan said with the easy affection of a man completely gone on his wife. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go.”
The casual intimacy of the comment made Bert’s chest ache. That was what he wanted with Mary.
The meeting wrapped up, and people dispersed to their various tasks.
Bert returned to the armory to complete inventory on the ammunition stores, a tedious but necessary job that required focus and attention to detail.
Exactly what he needed to keep his mind off Mary and the fact that she was having adventures in Canada while he was counting bullets in Montana.
By the time Bert finished for the day, the sun was setting, and most of the team had already left. But since there was no Mary to meet after work or share a dinner with or sit on the porch with, he wasn’t in a rush. He locked up the armory, secured the equipment room, and headed out to his truck.
He was almost to his vehicle when he heard female voices and laughter coming from the parking area to the side of the building.
Curious, he changed direction and found a group of women clustered near Vivian’s van.
Vivian, Lenore, Willow, Noel, Mia, and Justice. Sadie was just walking up to join them.
“Bert!” Vivian called out, waving him over. “Perfect timing. We were just talking about how Mary was enjoying her trip.”
“Ladies,” he said, smiling. “What’s going on?”
“Girls’ dinner,” Lenore explained. “We’re heading to that new pizza place in town. You should join us.”
“I don’t think I’m the target demographic for girls’ dinner,” Bert said, chuckling.
“Probably not,” Mia agreed with a grin. “Anything special to add about Mary’s trip?”