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“We know that too,” said Vance. “Anybody else he ever mention?”
“A few names from time to time. Hard to remember.”
“Leo Broome? Rick Wind? Curtis Getty? Jerome Cassidy?” prompted Robie.
“Getty, yes, that name I recall. Gabe said they had been close, but he hadn’t seen him since he’d come back. Rick Wind sounds familiar. The thing is, Gabe didn’t talk much about his military time. He was terrified that he was going to die because of the toxic conditions they fought in over there. There are soldiers dropping left and right and the Army won’t even acknowledge there is a thing such as Gulf War syndrome. After Elizabeth got sick he went into a deep depression. He thought a lot of her. He was convinced he would be next.”
Julie said, “You mentioned he and Curtis Getty were friends. Did he have any pictures of
them together?”
Robie and Vance looked at Julie. Robie felt immediate guilt. He had never stopped to consider how all of this must have been affecting the teenager.
Alice looked momentarily flustered, but the earnest look on Julie’s features prompted the woman to stand up. “I believe he does. Hold on for a moment.”
She left the room and a couple of minutes later came back holding an envelope. She sat next to Julie, opened, the envelope, and took the photos out.
“Gabe brought these back from overseas. You’re welcome to look through them.”
Vance and Robie crowded in closer and they looked through the photos. Julie said, “There’s my dad!”
Alice looked at Robie and then at Vance. “Her dad?”
“It’s a long story,” said Robie.
He took the photo from Julie and studied it.
The group was standing in front of a burned-out Iraqi tank. Someone had spray-painted the words “Saddam Kabob” across the blackened shell of the armored vehicle.
Curtis Getty was on the far right, dressed in combat fatigues with his shirt unbuttoned, a pistol clenched in his right hand. He looked very young and very happy, probably to be alive. Next to him was Jerome Cassidy. His hair was brown and cut military short. His shirt was off and he looked tanned, lean, and muscular. Next to him was Elizabeth Claire. Shorter than the others, she looked tougher than all of them. Her uniform was sparklingly clean, with every button where it was supposed to be. Her sidearm was in its holster and she stared at the camera with a very serious expression.
As Robie looked at her image he thought it probably would never occur to her that she would be lying in hospice waiting to die just twenty years later.
Alice said, “That’s Gabe on the far left there.”
Siegel was thinner, with more hair. He seemed confident, even cocky, as he looked at the camera. These days he was a shell of the man who was depicted in the photo, thought Robie.
Alice pointed at two other men, standing next to each other in the middle of the group. They were taller than the others. “I don’t know who they are.”
“Rick Wind and Leo Broome,” said Robie. “We know about them.”
“Do you think they might know something about why my husband has disappeared?”
“They might,” said Robie. But he thought, We won’t have much luck asking them.
Vance, obviously reading Robie’s thoughts, said, “We’ll check into that angle.”
“I don’t know why my husband’s military service would come up now, after all these years.”
“Does your husband have anything else connected to his time in the Army?”
“Not that I know of. He had brought some things back. His helmet, boots, and some other things. But he got rid of them.”
“Why?” asked Vance.
Alice Siegel looked surprised by the question. “He thought they were toxic, of course.”
CHAPTER
87
WHEN THEY RETURNED to the farmhouse, Vance called in to the FBI and got an earful from her superior for going off grid without authorization. After the man finished his tirade Vance was able to ask him to trace the phone call Gabriel Siegel had received at the bank.
He called back twenty minutes later with the answer.
Disposable phone, dead end. He ordered Vance to come in to the office, right that instant.
Robie overheard this part of the conversation. When Vance started to refuse he grabbed her arm and said, “Go, and take Julie with you.”
His gaze went upward where Julie had gone to use the bathroom.
“What?” said Vance.
“Things are going to get really hairy very shortly.”
Vance put her hand over the phone. “How do you know that?”
“I just do.”
“All the more reason for us to stick together.”
“But not Julie. We can’t have her in the middle of this. Take her to WFO and surround her with firepower. Then you can come back and hook up with me.”
She studied him warily, distrust in her eyes.
The voice squawked from the phone.
“Yes, sir,” said Vance into the phone. “I’ll be in directly. And I’ll be bringing Julie Getty with me. I hope we can do a better job of protecting her than we did last time.”
She clicked off and gazed at Robie with a searching look. “If you’re screwing with me…”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you seem to have a propensity for it. If you have this noble idea that you’re the only one in the world who can tackle this thing. Or that you’re somehow protecting me from danger—”
“You’re an FBI agent. You signed up for this. I have no noble thoughts in my head. All I’ve ever tried to do is my job and then survive. If I engage in any sort of fantasy it’s that I keep on believing those goals are not mutually exclusive.”
“Don’t try to confuse the issue.”
“Take your car and take Julie. Get her settled and then come back here.”
“And you’ll just be here waiting for me?” she said skeptically.
“If I’m not here you have my phone number.”
“I don’t believe this, Robie. You’re shutting me out at the very moment—”
Robie turned and walked away.
“Is that your answer? Ignoring me? Walking away again?” she called after him.
“What’s going on?” Julie peered over the stair rail at them.
Vance looked at Robie and then sighed. “Come on, Julie. We need to get out of here.”
“Where are we going?”
“To run down a lead.”
“What’s Will going to do?”
“Run down another lead.”
“Why are we splitting up?”
“Because our fearless leader wants it that way. Don’t you, Robie?” she added in a louder voice.
He was in the next room now and said nothing in response.
Robie watched as the Beemer with the cracked windshield and shattered rear window backed away from the house. Vance slammed it into drive and did a doughnut in the dirt and gravel before careening down the road away from him.
Robie took a deep, cleansing breath. He had never played well with others. For the last dozen years he had worked in almost total isolation. He preferred it that way. He was better alone than with a team. That’s
