Page 141 of The Deadly Shallows

“I’ll be curious to see if she died from drowning, or if she was killed and dumped. Though the bruising around her neck suggests either she was strangled—”

“Or held underwater until she drowned,” Finn said.

“Right.” Caleb scanned the area. “The chance of her randomly washing up on our base is slim to none.”

“Agreed.” Finn lowered his camera. “So why here?”

“To send us a message. To signal that his reach is long and close.” Whoever he was. Caleb agreed with Noah. Dwayne was the on-the-field player, but he wasn’t the one calling the plays.

SIXTY-SIX

NAS Pensacola was located on a peninsula a few miles southwest of the town.

Noah pulled up to the gate under the blue sign with yellow lettering and powered down his window. After dispensing with formalities, he and Brooke were both handed visitor badges and given clearance to enter.

“We’re here to see Senior Chief Mirch. Could you direct us to him?”

“He’s expecting you. Said he’ll be waiting at the Naval Education and Training Command building. You want to head to the fork, then head left, follow it all the way around, and the NETC is on your far left. Four-story brick building. You can’t miss it.”

When they arrived, Noah opened Brooke’s door for her.

“Thank you.” She climbed out with a smile, sliding her sunglasses up on her head.

They stepped into the building and asked the first soldier they passed where to find John.

“In the main room, back table,” the baby-faced soldier said, pointing down the hall. Man, he’d forgotten how young he’d been when he joined.

They entered the main room filled with silver tables and chairs. Knowing what John looked like—a near-exact replica of his brother—made him easy to spot.

“Senior Chief,” Noah said, holding out his hand. “Special Agent Noah Rowley.”

He shook Noah’s hand.

“And this is my colleague, Petty Officer Brooke Kesler.”

“Ma’am.” John nodded once. “I thought we’d head to the mess hall, grab a bad cup of coffee, and talk. That work?”

“Lead the way,” Noah said.

John strode for the door. Once outside, he said, “Or we can go to McDonald’s. Coffee is a mite better there.”

“Whichever you prefer,” Noah said. “We just appreciate you taking the time to speak with us.”

“Mess hall is only a hundred yards. McDonald’s is quite a bit farther.” He looked over at them.

“The mess hall works,” Noah said, knowing he had to take it easy on his leg as he was able, but after being cooped up on a plane and then in a car, stretching his legs sounded good.

“Sorry about the shooting on your base,” Mirch said.

“Thank you. I know you had your own mass shooting here a couple years ago,” Noah said.

“Far fewer people killed and injured, but even one is too many.”

“Agreed.” Noah nodded.

They walked in silence for a while until Brooke said, “So you served three combat duties?”

“Yes, ma’am. Three tours in Afghanistan.”