Chapter 1 - THE MILKSHAKE
Sheriff Vance dumped the strawberry milkshake over my head before I had time to stand.
Cold pink liquid ran through my hair, over my eyes, and down the front of my gray flannel shirt.
The entire diner went silent.
Vance set the empty glass on our table.
“Look at this trash. He won’t do a thing.”
Three deputies sitting near the counter laughed.
Nobody else did.
I wiped the milk from my eyes with a napkin.
Across from me, my wife Amelia stared at the table.
We had been married eleven years.
I waited for her to say something.
Anything.
Instead, she rolled her eyes and stood.
“You’re embarrassing me. Just sit there.”
That hurt more than the milkshake.
I looked at her.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t start something, Logan.”
“I didn’t.”
“You know what I mean.”
Vance smiled.
He had been doing that since we walked into Nora’s Diner twenty minutes earlier.
Smiling at Amelia.
Calling her Amy.
Touching the back of our booth when he leaned over her shoulder.
Acting as if I were occupying a seat he believed belonged to him.
I stood.
Vance stepped directly into my path.
He was fifty, maybe six-two, with a tan sheriff’s uniform stretched tightly across his stomach.
His badge read:
VANCE 214.
“Problem?” he asked.
I looked at the badge.
Then his face.
“No.”
His smile widened.
I walked past him.
That disappointed him.
Men like Vance needed resistance.
It gave them permission to become what they already wanted to be.
Nobody spoke as I crossed the diner.
Nora stood behind the counter holding a coffee pot halfway above a customer’s cup.
She looked terrified.
Outside, I took out my phone.
Milk dripped from my sleeve onto the sidewalk.
I called a number I had not used in almost eight months.
When the operator answered, I said:
“Connect me to JAG.”
There was a pause.
“Name and status?”
“Colonel Logan Mercer. Marine Corps Reserve. Currently attached to the Inspector General liaison team.”
Inside the diner, Vance was still smiling.
I read his badge number.
“Sheriff Raymond Vance. Badge 214. Blackridge County.”
The attorney on the other end became quiet.
“Colonel, are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you calling JAG about a county sheriff?”
I looked through the window.
Vance was watching me now.
His smile had disappeared.
“Because three weeks ago Sheriff Vance’s department seized a military evidence package that was being transported under federal authority.”
Silence.
“And I think he just confirmed he knows exactly who I am.”
I ended the call.
Amelia came outside.
“What did you do?”
“Made a phone call.”
“To who?”
“You heard me.”
Her face changed.
“Logan, why would you call JAG?”
I studied her.
That was the first strange thing.
Not why did he assault you?
Not are you okay?
Why would you call JAG?
“You know something.”
“No.”
“You’re scared.”
“I’m not.”
Behind her, the diner door opened.
Vance stepped outside.
“You should listen to your wife.”
I looked at him.
“You should go back inside.”
He laughed.
“You think one phone call scares me?”
“No.”
I wiped strawberry milk from my jaw.
“But I think the reason you’re pretending it doesn’t is worth finding out.”
Amelia grabbed my arm.
“Please.”
I looked down at her hand.
“Why are you protecting him?”
“I’m protecting us.”
“From what?”
She wouldn’t answer.
Vance did.
“Your wife understands how things work around here.”
Something passed between them.
Small.
A glance.
But I saw it.
I pulled my arm from Amelia’s hand.
“How long?”
Her face went pale.
“Logan.”
“How long have you known him?”
Vance laughed.
I turned toward him.
He enjoyed knowing something I didn’t.
That made him careless.
“Ask her where she was Thursday night.”
Amelia closed her eyes.
Thursday.
She had told me she was helping her sister move.
Her sister lived ninety miles away.
“Amelia?”
She whispered:
“I can explain.”
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from Major Rebecca Sloan at JAG.
DO NOT LEAVE BLACKRIDGE.
A second message appeared.
THE PACKAGE VANCE SEIZED WASN’T THE ORIGINAL.
I stared at it.
Then the third message arrived.
WE HAVE THE ORIGINAL.
YOUR WIFE’S NAME IS INSIDE.
I slowly raised my eyes.
May you like
Amelia was staring at my phone.
And from the terror on her face, I knew she didn’t need to read the message to know exactly what it said.
