Give me a call – 555 454 3456
I look forward to hearing from you.
Jared
I read the email a few times and try to place the name, but it isn’t ringing any bells. But back then I concentrated on my team and who I reported to. Commanding sergeant probably wouldn’t have been in my sights. But I don’t care who it is; if he has information for me then I’ll be calling him. I pick up my cell and type in the number.
“Hey.” I look up from my screen and Shay is being pushed closer to me in a wheelchair. She looks exhausted. I wish she would stop pushing herself because she’s not ready for this exertion, but sitting in a bed getting weaker isn’t her idea of fun. Her words.
“Hey, you did well out there.”
“Not good enough. Or quick enough.”
“You’ve lost a lot of muscle in your leg, it’s going to take time,” says Leigha, Shay’s physiotherapist. “I didn’t expect to start this kind of therapy for another week at least. Cut yourself some slack, girl.”
“Exactly. Maybe you’ll listen to someone other than me. What do you say I wheel you down to the cafeteria and we can have a coffee and some pie?”
“Throw in some chocolate goodness and you have a deal.”
I laugh because my girl always did have a sweet tooth. She used to moan about the food we were served in the army.
“Prisoners get served better food.” Shay bangs her tray down beside me.
“Is it the wrong time of month for you?” I ask wearily, because I know too well that Shay isn’t afraid to answer me back. The rest of the team might be, but not Shay.
“Seriously? You can’t be happy about eating this crap.” She lifts the spoon in her porridge, and it plops back into the bowl.
“It’s not the Ritz we’re in.”
“A bit of chocolate or even jam might give the poison taste.”
I smile at the memory that washes through me. Those were the good old days. As horrible as they might have been at times, they were happy memories of a job I loved.
“I’m sure I can throw in whatever you like. I’ve got it from here, Leigha. Thank you.”
“No problem. See you both tomorrow.” Leigha walks away.
I look down at my laptop screen and cell, but a call can wait until I’ve got Shay tucked back into bed safe and well. If I didn’t have her home, that would have been a different matter. I pack everything away in my backpack and stand up. I lean over Shay’s wheelchair and take her face into my hands.
“You did good today. I see a huge difference in you.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’ll never lie to you, babe.” I lean in closer to her, smelling her sweet perfume. My lips land softly on hers. Never pushing for more, just to let her know that I’m here for her every step of the way. “Let’s get you that chocolate you so desire.”
She smiles brightly at me, and that’s the biggest reward of all.
Chapter 22
Clay
Another day. Another therapy session. Watching Shay with her physiotherapist keeps me occupied, but I wait until she’s settled, and I take out my cell and bring up the number from yesterday’s email. After Shay finished her therapy yesterday, I went home and came back, but Shay was my main concern. She might be able to fool everyone else around her, but I know she’s struggling. Her bright smile is nothing without the sparkle in her eyes.
This morning is the first chance I’ve got to call Jared from the email. I feel like a child in a candy store, getting excited at the thought of finding out something that will help us discover where Shay was held prisoner.
I dial the number and sit with my cell to my ear. It rings a few times, and just when I’m about to hang up, a polite voice comes through my ear.
“Hello.”
“Hi. I’m looking to speak with Jared.”
“Speaking.”
I take in a deep breath. “My name is Clay Shawland. I received an email from you yesterday.”
“Ah, Clay. It’s good to hear from you.”
And just like that, the polite voice is gone and a strong southern accent breaks through.
“Thanks. I feel bad because I know I should remember you, and I probably would if I saw your face, but names I’m terrible with lately.”
“No worries. I wasn’t there for long after you started. The joys of the army. You’re okay one minute, and the next…” he trails off and I hear a deep sigh. “Well, you know what I mean. Anyway, I don’t know if this is relevant to the case you’re working, but when I read the news and watched the broadcast on CNN, I had to reach out.”
“That’s okay, Jared. We’ve got nothing to work with, and we’re led to believe that there are a lot of U.S soldiers still alive, but they’re being reported M.I.A or dead. Anything, and I mean anything, might give us a leg up the ladder.”
“Okay. It seems like such a long time ago now, and I doubt it will still be ongoing, but one of my last missions out in Iraq, I was sent to deliver supplies to this… camp, I guess you could call it.”
“A camp? Like an army camp?”
“Worse. It was old sheds, buildings, and destruction. I think they were in the middle of building it up.”
“Why did you think it was weird?”
“I felt like I was delivering supplies to the enemy.”
Silence.
“Did you see something that concerned you?”
The line goes quiet. I shuffle to the edge of my seat and draw my lip between my teeth. I’m on tenterhooks, wondering, waiting to see what Jared has to offer.
“I saw an army soldier who was pronounced dead a year before. He looked like he was brainwashed. He looked right through me like I had no place being there.”
“Did you report it?”
“Of course. I reported it the moment my feet hit U.S soil. But I was told they’d investigated my sighting, but it was just a look alike. The person I saw wasn’t who I thought.”
“And you’re not convinced?”
“I might not have been the youngest, fittest, soldier there, but my eyesight was better than most. I know what I saw, but I had nothing to prove it. I was sent on a mission later that month, and it was my last job.”
“You don’t believe you were set up, do you?”
“I don’t know. I never questioned it, but there just seemed like a whole lot of coincidences.”
I can hear the pain and anguish in Jared’s voice. It’s so different to the cheerful man I heard on the line five minutes ago.
“And you’ve never mentioned this again?”
“No. I wish I had. Maybe your soldiers wouldn’t be going through hell now. I can’t change the past, but I can change the future, and you seem like a good, genuine guy that will listen to me.”
I sigh. “I’m going to try my best, Jared. Out of curiosity, who did you tell when you came home?”
“Michael Morrison.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Why do you sound so shocked?”
“Because he was one of the first guys I spoke with about trying to get help to find Shay. But he blew me off and said there was nothing he could do, too much time had passed. You don’t think he had anything to do with this, do you? Shay said she knows for sure the camp is organized by Americans, but the lead ringer goes by The Boss.”