LITMIR.BIZ

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immediate purpose drew into sharper focus. Right now, Andrea needed him to do his best to fix this moment. “That sounded more like it should have been my line.”

      “It is what it is.” She was clearly chewing. “Girls get hungry, too.”

      “And it sounds like they talk with their mouths full. So never call a guy a pig again. I know you’ve probably done it before. Every girl has.”

      She giggled, and the sound ran up his spine like lightning.

      Josh dropped back onto the couch and stretched his feet out in front of him. The memory of her laughing as she watched her brother’s baseball games played like a movie in front of him. It had been a challenge to keep his eye on the ball from third base. She’d flip her hair over her shoulder and throw her head back at something one of her friends said and, for a moment, he’d forget about base hits and ground balls. Yeah, she’d cost him an out or two back in the day.

      The corner of his mouth tipped up. He’d forgive her.

      It warmed him that she hadn’t changed, that something of the girl he once knew still existed in the woman who’d stumbled back into his life today. What would it take to hear that laugh again? Back then he’d only enjoyed it from a distance. Every time they’d gotten close, she’d turned inside herself, grown quiet, the laughter disappearing from her eyes. Something about him had turned her so far off she ceased to be herself whenever he was around. Whatever it was, it seemed to have dissipated over the years. Josh took a deep breath and shook his head, trying to force the thoughts away. Frankly, he’d take what he could get. “What’re you eating?”

      “PB&J and a big ol’ glass of milk.” There was a pause, then her voice cleared after she swallowed. “Fighting for her life leaves a girl sort of hungry.” The words didn’t quite sound as light as she probably wanted them to.

      The fear around the edges struck a nerve. More than anything, Josh wanted to slay that dragon for her. The only thing he could do from his couch was keep her talking. He scanned his living room as though a topic of conversation would suddenly appear. “So, you’re a rehab counselor now?” He winced. That might keep her talking, but it wasn’t a subject he necessarily wanted to broach.

      “Substance abuse counselor. I was in the army for a while. I went in after Brendan...” Her voice weakened on her brother’s name, but came back strong. “But then I decided I wanted to do something for the soldiers who are too afraid of having their careers destroyed if they go to army counseling or use Tricare to pay for services, so here I am working with soldiers and their families. Private donors and churches keep the doors open.”

      Her passion touched something deep inside him and sparked an appreciation she’d likely never understand. The desire to unload the whole story onto her nearly overwhelmed him, but he swallowed the words. She’d never forgive him, and he couldn’t sever this tenuous bond now, not before he saw this to the end, protected now like he’d failed to protect so many years ago. “You see a lot of Brendan in these soldiers.”

      The line grew silent, the moments stretching so thin they almost groaned in protest. “Andrea?”

      She sighed. “Especially in Wade.”

      His fingers tightened on the phone. This conversation wasn’t going the way he’d intended, but he was in too deep now to pull out. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at the funeral.” He was. Sorrier than she knew. But he could never tell her why.

      “I’ve heard it was a nice ceremony.”

      “You weren’t there?”

      “I was there.” The sound of running water and the clink of glass on metal leaked through the phone, then silence. “I don’t remember any of it. All I remember is anger. Everything’s colored red, like there’s a haze over it.” Her voice was too matter-of-fact, too clinical.

      There was no locating the source of the urge, but Josh knew he couldn’t let her hide. “Anger at whom? Your brother?”

      “Brendan, whoever got him started on heroin in the first place, his chain of command for not seeing it—”

      “Yourself for not stopping it.” Those thoughts never should have left his mouth, echoing guilt she was bound to hear. He cleared his throat. “He cared a lot about you, you know.” So did I.

      “I know.” She sniffed. “You know what the hard part is? Not knowing. Did he do it on purpose or was that the one hit that was too much for his body to handle?”

      “I think—” He stopped. Now was not the time for that discussion.

      “I’m so done with thinking right now.” Her voice dragged low, like the emotion gave added weight to the words.

      What was going on in her head? Did she want to talk, or had she had enough of him for one day? His presence had to be a reminder of what she’d suffered. He’d err toward not making a pest of himself. “I’ll let you go and eat. I’m sure you’re starved after—”

      “No. Don’t.”

      Those short words he understood. “Anything wrong?”

      The silence hung heavy. “I... Don’t hang up yet, okay?”

      Her request grabbed his heart in a fist. Never. After an appeal like that, there was no way he could. At the rate things were going, he’d likely never leave her alone again.

      THREE

      The midmorning sun baked the red brick of the counseling center and poured heat onto the brown metal roof of the eighties-era building. Reflected light bounced off the glass doors at an angle that obliterated the view into the lobby.

      Andrea gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were the color of kindergarten paste. She twisted her fingers on the vinyl and squinted against the glare to see if anyone moved inside the building, but she could see nothing. She should have called Josh and asked him to meet her early, although that bordered on a paranoia she didn’t want to acknowledge.

      Acknowledged or not, it was there. The photos she’d received in the mail were safely at the police station, dropped off on her way to work this morning, but not before she’d photographed them with her phone. Andrea pulled up the most detailed image and studied it, trying to calculate the angle from which it was taken. Twisting to look over her shoulder, she scanned the wooded area across the street.

      The trees were thick and dark, marking the line between Columbus and Fort Benning with thick pines and low-growing foliage. There were a thousand places to hide. Whoever took those photos could have walked into that undeveloped spot from anywhere, could have hidden behind any tree. Likely, there wouldn’t be any witnesses. Worse... Was the person there even now, aiming at her again?

      A shadow fell across the interior of her car as someone tapped on the driver window.

      Andrea’s shriek ricocheted off the windshield. She jumped sideways, away from the driver’s-side door and the steely eyes of the man peering in.

      “Doc, it’s just me.” The voice, colored in concern, drifted toward her on a wave of familiarity. A craggy, sun-weathered face peered into the window, a sunwashed black Dale Earnhardt baseball cap pulled low over faded blond hair and concerned gray-blue eyes. “You okay in there?”

      Andrea swallowed a cry of relief. “Dutch.” She pressed a hand to her chest to force her heart back into its rightful place.

      The older man stepped back as she pushed the car door open and stepped out on shaky legs. He grasped her elbow to steady her as she gripped the top of the door and tried to find her wayward composure. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

      Dutch had shown up in the parking lot of her building a couple of months ago, looking for work to help him get back on his feet. When the center grew busier as more units redeployed from overseas, he picked up the pace, showing up several days a week, right on schedule, to sweep the floors and neaten the parking lot. Andrea

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