Page 4 of Evening Shadows

Heck, Sam had been so lost in thought she’d missed all Bev was saying. Until now. She knew by “them” her friend meant Jesse Hamilton and Ken Patrick, the leadership on the fatal op that cost her and Bev everything. Well, not everything for Bev. She had a son with her husband. Unfortunately, Adam Shodun never had the opportunity to see his only son. Bev had been pregnant when he’d left for the final time, and she’d delivered not long after she’d become a widow.

Before Sam could form an appropriate response, Bev continued. “I still can’t believe the army didn’t discipline them.” Her venomous response shouldn’t have startled Sam, but she hadn’t been ready for it.

When she realized her friend paused, as if waiting for Sam to speak, she sighed. Dropping her head, Sam squeezed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger and said, “Bev, I’ve told you this before; it’s a primo job. It’s elite and difficult to get hired into, even with all my years on the police force. I love it and am glad I’m here.”

Seeing Ken again after so long, feeling the heated connection between them, had sent her spiraling. While the memorable kisses they’d shared long ago had touched her heart and imprinted themselves on her soul, and if truth be told, still haunted her, she’d been slow to open her lonely heart to a possible future for them.

“But they just left you home while they went out to save the world.”

Sam shook her head at the uninformed statement. “No, they didn’t. I mean,” she corrected, “I didn’t go, but a few members, including Jesse and Ken, didn’t either.” She halted and almost clamped her hand over her mouth. Knowing how much her friend hated the two men, she’d just given her the opening for another tirade.

Ignoring her response, Bev plowed forward. “You were doing fine on SWAT. I don’t see why you had to leave and move so far away. I miss having you here. Brunch on Sunday isn’t the same. All the other wives talk about are their new husbands and kids. You were the only other single woman.”

Her appetite gone, Sam left her sandwich on the counter and strode into the living room, then dropped onto the red leather couch that came with the apartment. Sam would’ve chosen differently, maybe a nice vintage piece like she’d had when she lived near Bev. Instead of moving everything, she’d sold anything and everything and chosen a furnished apartment. Thank goodness Bev wasn’t here; she would have gone nuts over the poor taste the owner had and pushed to have him refurnish it. When Sam purchased her own place, it would be away from it all, and she’d decorate it to her taste. She just wasn’t sure where that place would be. Sometimes she saw herself and Ken furnishing a place together. Then a slight uncertainty about remarrying crept into the dream. Not an uncertainty about Ken but about her feeling she’d be cheating on Lance. It made no sense since her husband was dead, but when did love make sense? Or in her case with Ken, likes a lot.

But Bev only cared about having her best friend close, and Sam couldn’t fault her for that. What bothered Sam was that her friend knew how painful talking about the issue she’d faced on the force was for her, yet Bev regularly brought up the subject. “You know the men on SWAT were harassing me. I’m strong, but I didn’t want to take it anymore.” She’d worked hard for her spot with the team, but the men didn’t want a woman working with them.

Needing to change the subject before Bev went on a rant about that, Sam tried again, hoping for a different answer. “Bev, why don’t you move up here? Since you don’t have to work, you’re free to live where you want.”

“I’m not leaving Adam’s home.”

Sam sighed in disappointment. Her friend just wouldn’t let Adam’s death go enough to move her life forward. No one expected her to forget Adam and the life they’d shared. Bev needed to rebuild her life and no one could get her to do that.

She worried about the effect Bev’s behavior had on Cody—Bev’s son. Being an honorary aunt, when Sam hadn’t been working, she’d taken Cody away for some special time. Unfortunately, by the time he’d reached the age of six, he’d figured out his mom wasn’t normal. Normal in the sense that any little thing that reminded her of her husband’s death sent her in a rage at the U.S. Army, the Ranger team, and anyone else she felt responsible for his death, including the chaplain who came to break the horrible news. But mostly at Jesse and Ken.

As a friend, Sam had tried many things to help Bev quit living in the past and that moment of initial sorrow, but she’d failed. Miserably. Reminding Bev she could have two things—like Sam—where she didn’t forget but instead moved on in the world.

Sam had almost declined the job with HIS since she’d wanted Cody to have someone, for lack of a better term, sane in his life. Bev wasn’t insane like someone who needed to be committed or who would do harm to herself or her child. She just didn’t give Cody the love Sam would’ve.

“What happened to you?” Bev asked. “You used to feel the same way that I did.”

“I did in the beginning, Bev, but I opened my eyes, and I’ve realized I have a life to live. And, after all I’ve been through with my career, I’ve learned that when all hell breaks loose, sometimes the best-laid plans are useless.” As she looked back, it’d taken too long for her to come to this conclusion, but come to it she had. A rightness of that realization—and the bitterness she’d released against Lance’s team leaders—rested in her soul.

Bev huffed in indignation. “You did nothing wrong on that op.”

Realizing her friend had switched back to her SWAT days, Sam took a deep breath to remain calm. “A hostage died,” she seethed, knowing what op Bev meant, but at least she was off her revenge kick. The image of the woman in the jewelry store would never leave her. The woman on her knees, with her long, dark hair wrapped in the gunman’s hand. Her head had been pulled back a moment before Sam’s eyes had connected with hers. Though she doubted the hostage saw her since the woman’s eyes were wide and full of fear. Per procedure, once Sam had found the optimal location, she’d radioed in the situation from her perch on the rooftop across the street. It would have been an easy shot for her to take out the lone gunman, with his weapon pointed at the hostage’s head. She’d tried to impress upon the negotiator the urgency, but he’d shut her up. Some negotiators thought themselves God. Unfortunately, this negotiator failed and the next moment had instilled itself in her mind as the gunman fired his weapon and the hostage fell with a bullet in her head. The approval to fire came too late to save the woman. Sam’s light touch on her trigger brought down the murderer, but there’d been nothing she could do to bring back the woman’s life.

“Didn’t you say you weren’t given the order to fire or free clearance to do so if you felt it necessary?”

At times, Bev surprised the hell out of her and talked reasonably about the situation.

Frustrated, Sam jumped up and all but stomped to the kitchen to pick up the sandwich she no longer wanted and dump it into the garbage. “The fact that I was cleared didn’t change that the woman died and I could’ve prevented it.”

“Adam always told me that no matter how good the team was, sometimes people die because they couldn’t be everything to everyone.”

If only Bev would listen to her own words.

“I know. Lance used to say something similar. Jesse also explained that to me, although his preference is that everyone remains alive.”

Her gut twisted at how damn confused she was. As an agent—of any law enforcement or military team—saying “shit happens,” which was what it basically boiled down to, was easy. For the survivors, not so much. With Sam being on both sides, it made every day a struggle, not knowing which emotion would rule the day.

“Dammit, Sam, quit that job and move back here. You know the department will take you back.”

And they were on that road again. She didn’t believe her friend would ever stop trying to get her to move back to Georgia. “Bev,” she said patiently, “I’m here now.”Near Ken once again.“Like I’ve said, I love it and like working with this team. The types of ops they run make a difference. Thankfully, there’s little to no red tape. Plus, there are women on the team, and the men seem to trust them and treat them as equals.” With the way the male-heavy team had treated her so far, she wasn’t plagued with the fear or insecurity that had haunted her once the men of SWAT began their campaign of sexual harassment. “Can’t you understand how this is the perfect fit for me?”

“You won’t think it’s perfect after you hear what I have to say.”

Sam quietly groaned. She refused to ask or open this topic up again. If it weren’t for her love for Cody, she’d have reevaluated her friendship with Bev. She’d expect a friend to support her in her decisions, not try to bring everything down so Sam moved back to Georgia and was as miserable as her friend.

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