Page 49 of Very Special Forces

I calledup an internet browser on my laptop and plugged in the addressesfor Bryce's social media accounts. Apparently, I’d missed anotherInstagram account in his name on my first search and now I foundone busily populated. Thankfully, he was the kind of guy who likedto broadcast his life and there were a lot of artfully shot imagesshowing him leading his “#bestlife.” There were plenty with Juliatoo. Nice photos of them on day trips, and a vacation at a prettyinn somewhere along the coast, leaning in and smiling, arms aroundeach other, kissing in the sunset, and the ubiquitous brunch shots.There were plenty of Bryce alone or with his guy buddies too, theimages interspersed with random things he'd seen andshared.

I had toscroll a long way back before I found the month that correspondedto the assault. From that point, I scrolled slower, not wanting tomiss a thing. Finally, I found what I was looking for but it wasn'teven a photo of the mystery ex, instead it featured a sunset overdunes that could have been anywhere, with just a caption reading"Jessica and I at the beach. Amazing day!" Other than that onesingle caption, it was like Jessica never existed. There wasn't asingle other photo or reference to her. Bryce went to great painsto remove any traces of her.

Notingher name on a slip of paper with a large question mark, I relaxedback in my chair to think. There had to be a bunch of Jessicas inMontgomery and there was no way to narrow her down from a firstname alone. If she lived further afield, I couldn't imagine everfinding her. Plus, there wasn't even a photo of her that I couldshow around. So far, apart from her first name, the Jessica leadwas a bust. The only way I was going to find her would be throughinterviewing Bryce's close friends and family. It would bedifficult to do that without someone tipping him off.

While Iwaited for Jas to return my call, I closed the file and opened theone on the tank, pleased that I had something else to focuson.

Sincelast night, I was sure I could rule out Simmons as the tank thief.If his story about being treated for food poisoning was true, hecouldn't have been the culprit. Unfortunately, that left a wholebase of people it could have been. I needed to watch the securityfootage to see who was in the area near the tank in the time windowI narrowed down for the theft.

Something else still puzzled me. What was the motive? If thetank was intended for illegal sale, it would be hotter than hot andbizarrely audacious for anyone to steal from the government. Theywouldn't stop looking for it, that was for sure, and who wanted ahot tank? It could hardly have its identification numbers shavedoff or be chopped up for parts.

No,someone wanted it for something. But what?

The moreI thought about how hard it would be to sell, the more I wonderedif there was ever any intention to make a profit on the stolentank. Could it be that money wasn't the motive?

"What ifthey intended to give it back?" I asked out loud. "What if theywant something in return for it?"

"Returnfor what?" asked a voice behind me as I jumped. I spun around andgrinned.

"Delgado?"

"In theflesh."

"How wasyour honeymoon?"

"Beautiful. Wonderful. Everything I wanted." He smiledbroadly. "I just came in to pick up a couple things before I headhome. I'm officially still on vacation until the end of theweek."

"Thenhurry up and go," I told him. He had moved into my sister's housepermanently just before the wedding and I knew neither of them hadtime to unpack his boxes yet.

"Andmiss you talking to yourself?"

"You cantalk to yourself too," I told him. "It's a freecountry."

"I'llsee you at the family dinner tonight?"

"Absolutely."

"Great."Delgado busied himself at his desk and a few minutes later, he wasready to go. "Hey," he said as he slipped his backpack over hisshoulder. "Did you hear about those guys from FortCharles?"

Ifrowned. How did he know I was working with them? "Did Solomon tellyou?" I asked.

Delgadoshook his head. "No, I heard it from an old buddy. The audacity ofstealing the goat mascot from Camp Callihan. I swear, the rivalrybetween those bases is going to blow up in someone's face oneday."

I spunin my chair at this new information. "Someone stole a goat? Anactual goat? Or a pretend goat?"

"A reallive goat. Camp Callihan likes to roll it out as a good luckmascot."

"Doesstuff like that happen often?"

"Stealing goats?" asked Delgado.

"No, therivalry between the two bases?"

"All thetime."

"Huh."

"See youlater," said Delgado and he was gone before I could ask him anymorequestions. I turned back to my desk and added “goat” undermotivations. Would someone really steal a tank as revenge forstealing a goat? Even as I thought that, I knew it couldhappen.

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