CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Admiral Harris was lying on the men’s room floor with a knife in his heart. Someone had deliberately driven it through one of his medals.

“Someone would have needed a hammer to get that thing through the medal,” frowned Eric.

“Or this,” said AJ, holding up a metal serving tray. “I’m going to bet he was dressed as a waiter and followed him in here. We need to get to his wife.”

“What’s your name, son?” Eric asked the aide.

“Lieutenant Jonas Samson, sir.”

“Lieutenant, I need you to take us to his wife and get us in that house. If she’s working with her brother, then she may know where he’s gone because I’m going to bet that he will suddenly disappear.”

“Yes, sir. I do need to notify the Pentagon first.”

“We’ve already done that,” said AJ. “Our team has a few connections there, as well as with the POTUS. As of right now, this is an unsanctioned op. We are to find the Admiral’s killer and stop whatever is happening here.”

Samson stared at the room full of men, nodding.

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do. He was the best commanding officer I’ve ever had. He brought me to the Pentagon when my wife and I found out we were having twins so that I could be home with her.”

“That’s awesome, brother,” smiled Luke. “How old are the twins?” The young man’s face sobered, and he shook his head.

“My wife was killed when she was eight months pregnant. A hit-and-run accident in Alexandria. The driver was never found, but I always believed it had something to do with Brockman. I had been reluctant to allow the Admiral’s wife anywhere near his office, locking it when he left, even for short meetings. He knew and never questioned what I was doing.”

“You may have prevented more damage, but I’m damn sorry about your wife and children,” said Luke. The young man swallowed, nodding.

“Me, too, sir.”

An hour later, they were all on the Osprey headed to D.C. with the Admiral’s body. They would be met by a military honor guard, who would take the body to a military hospital for final autopsy and review. While that was getting started, Samson directed the men to the Harris home.

“Nice place,” frowned Cam.

“The Admiral bought it at a bank auction, hoping it would make his wife happy and get her to change. It has stables at the back, but they’ve never been used. They never invested in the horses because of Marilu.”

“Where are the kids?” asked Eric.

“The kids are adults now. More or less. Their son, Isaac, Jr., is at Columbia studying law. Their daughter, Emeline, is in medical school at Stanford.”

“Intelligent kids,” said Eric. “Must have gotten it from their father.”

“He was definitely one of the most brilliant men I’ve ever known. Except when it came to his wife. He couldn’t seem to break that tie. Part of it was he believed in not walking away. He always thought he could change her somehow.”

“I hate to ask this, but did she and the brother have something going on?” Samson stared at Eric, unsure of the question. “Did they have a physical relationship beyond siblings?”

“Oh,” frowned the younger man. “I never really thought of that. They were oddly close. Always hugging one another, holding hands, which I thought was strange at their age. I have two sisters younger than me, and we hug when we see each other, but we don’t kiss on the lips.”

“They kissed one another on the lips?” frowned Cam.

“Always. The Admiral always said they were just very close to one another. Their parents died when they were pretty young, and they relied on one another.”

“Maybe more than they should have,” said Garr.

The men stepped out of the vehicles and walked toward the front door of the home. Garr started to knock, then noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Drawing his weapon, he signaled to the others to do the same. Eric, Sebastian, and Alistair went to the back of the house with AJ making sure the alarms were off.

Pushing the door open, they found an absolute mess. The house had been turned upside down. Cushions were torn apart, books thrown all over the rooms, chairs turned over in every room.

“Damn,” muttered Cam.

“It’s staged,” said AJ. They all turned, staring at him. “Look. There are vases, plates, bowls, decorative items on the tables, counters, and shelves, but none of that was broken. I’ve never seen someone have a home invasion where items were destroyed, but they graciously spared the china.”

“Fuck me,” muttered Garr. “It’s staged.”

“Check her bedroom,” said Samson, heading toward the stairs. “They didn’t share a room any longer since the kids were gone. She had a few items that she always wanted right next to her at all times. A family book of some sort, a small box of jewelry that she’d been given by her parents and the Admiral, and a bejeweled eighteenth-century Khanjarli.”

“That’s not exactly something you see every day. Plus, that’s one wicked knife,” said Garr. “Did she know how to use it?”

“From what I understand, she was proficient with it,” said Samson.

“Proficient with it, yet he came home to find her being beaten by a strange man, and she didn’t use it,” said Garr. Samson opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head.

“I never thought of that. Never.”

“It’s not something you would automatically think of,” said Eric, “but it feels like something that Isaac should have put together.”

“When it came to her, he was blind. Recently, I think he was realizing that she and Brockman were up to something. He just didn’t know what, and if you want my honest opinion, I don’t think he wanted to know. It would have been too painful for him.”

“Not as painful as death,” frowned Garr.

“No, sir, I guess not,” said Samson.

“Listen, Samson, stop with all the ‘sir’ shit. We’re just first or last names only. Clear?”

“Yes, si-, uh, got it, Garr.” Garr gave him a smirk, turning once more to stare at the destruction.

“They obviously left in a hurry. Where would they go?” he asked as much to himself as to anyone in the room.

“Hey, anyone know why the Admiral would have a pontoon boat decked out like a Christmas float?” asked one of the investigators.

“A pontoon boat?” frowned Samson. “He didn’t own a pontoon boat.” Collectively, the men stared at one another, then looked at the investigator.

“Shit!”