Page 9 of Lone Star Witness

“Sir, it’s me, Captain Slade McKenna,” he said.

The fighting continued, and Marise got in on the action. She hit a button on the wall and then grabbed Rosa’s arms, pinning them behind his back. “Colonel Rosa,” she tried. “It’s Slade and me, Marise. You know us. We’re not the enemy.”

Slade saw it then, the glazed look in Rosa’s eyes. He’d either been drugged or was in the throes of one hell of a complex PTSD episode.

“Sir,” Slade repeated when Rosa continued to try to batter his head against Slade. “You’re in San Antonio at the Patriot’s Retreat.”

That finally seemed to sink in, and Rosa stopped. He just stopped, and with his breath coming out in sharp rasps, he slid slow, volleying glances at Marise and Slade.

“Slade,” he said, shaking his head as if trying to clear it.

There was the sound of the elevator opening, and seconds later, the male nurse who’d been downstairs hurried in.

“Arrange for Colonel Rosa to be transported to the hospital. He needs to be examined for any injuries he might have gotten in the, well, altercation that just happened,” Marise muttered to the nurse, and he took off again. “Colonel Rosa, let me take you to your chair so you can sit down.”

“Chair,” the man repeated. Still dazed. Still not fully back from wherever he’d been. He didn’t say another word until Marise had him seated. “I, uh, thought you were somebody else. In the dark, you looked like… not like yourselves. I didn’t recognize you.”

“Yeah, I got that. Are you okay?” Slade asked. “Did I hurt you?”

Again, Rosa wasn’t quick to answer and seemed to be assessing his body for any injuries. “I’m all right.” He looked up at Slade while Marise picked up the lamp and the books. “But you’re not. I can’t remember, but did I do that to your face?”

Slade shook his head. “This is from something else.”

“From your job at Maverick Ops,” Rosa muttered, sounding exhausted, maybe a little in shock as well but also aware. “I’ve kept tabs on you, on all my men and women who were good officers. You and your brothers, Jericho and Nash, have done well working for Ruby Maverick.”

“Thank you, sir,” Slade said, and he went closer, stooping so he’d be eye level with the man. “She’s a good boss. Like you.”

The years had not been kind to the colonel. Or maybe this was from the stress of his confrontation. Then again, there had to be stress from the encounter he’d just had with Slade slamming him against the wall.

The colonel’s coarse gray hair was standing up in tuffs, and deep wrinkles etched the corners of his eyes and mouth. He looked a good decade older than he was.

“Marise told me you had a visitor earlier,” Slade threw out there.

Rosa looked at her but he didn’t voice whatever it was that it appeared he’d been about to say. Instead, he shifted back to Slade. “Marise called you to come because of that man. That thug,” he spat out.

Good. At least Rosa recalled the meeting. “Who was he?”

“Said he was Smith. A lie, probably. He threatened me,” Rosa added, and his gaze drifted toward the window. “He was out there earlier in the parking lot. Just looking up at my window and grinning like some kind of demon straight from hell.”

That sent Marise hurrying to the window, and thank merciful heaven, she didn’t just throw back the curtains and stand in front of them to make herself an easy target. Instead, she peered out the edge of them.

“No one’s out there now,” Marise said, and then she stopped. “But a car just pulled into the parking lot.”

That got Slade heading to the window as well, but before he reached it, he saw Marise’s shoulders relax. “It’s the colonel’s wife, Stephanie.” She checked her watch. “Though I have no idea why she’s here at this hour.”

“Maybe the duty nurse called her,” Slade suggested.

“Possibly. Probably,” she amended. “But she wouldn’t have had time to get here this fast. She lives across town.”

“I called her,” Rosa said, causing Slade and Marise to turn back toward him. “I told her about Smith’s visit, about him being in the parking lot. I wanted her to make sure the security system was turned on at home in case he tried to go there.”

That was obviously some logical thinking, something Rosa hadn’t been doing when Slade and Marise had stepped into the room minutes earlier.

Slade went back to the man and stooped down again. A movement that made his bruises and ribs protest, but he stayed in place. He needed to see Rosa’s eyes when he asked his next questions.

“What did Smith want?” Slade pressed. “Why did he threaten you?”

The colonel ran his hand over his head, his fingers pressing hard into his scalp. “I don’t know.”

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