Chapter 7 #2
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 qualify 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.