Page 11 of Jon's Helter Skelter Cold Case

My phone rang in my pocket. Since it was far safer to answer it out here rather than in the house, I pulled it out. Huh, not a number I knew. Didn’t mean much in my line of business, although I admit if I saw it was a spam caller, I answered in Tagalog. If I got them to hang up, I won. It was my own personal game.

“This is Havili.”

A smooth contralto voice answered. “Hello, I’m Corporal Christine Knolton. Do I have Master Sergeant Donovan Havili?”

Now that was a rank I hadn’t been called in a long time. “You do.”

“Oh good, I hoped I had the right number in my records. Sir, I’m calling with a rather unique request. I understand you were injured in London while saving a mother and child from an acid attack?”

My scars flared and ached for a second from the trauma reminder. The pain was a visceral thing, my heartbeat racing from adrenaline I didn’t need. It took me a second to find my voice. “Also correct.”

“I’m calling because the mother you saved has reached out to the army trying to track you down. She and her daughter have moved stateside and want to reconnect with you. She wasn’t sure how to reach you.”

“Wait, Simin and Eshaal are now living here? In America?”

“I understand it was a recent move. First thing they did once they got settled was try and find you. They’re very eager to reconnect, sir.”

So many emotions I couldn’t easily identify hit hot and hard, tangling into this knot I couldn’t quite swallow around.

“Do you have their contact information?”

“I do, sir. I can email it to you, if you’d like.”

“That’d be great. What email do you have on file for me?”

She told me, but it was one I no longer used. I had her send the information to my Psy email instead, as that one I paid religious attention to. She repeated it back to me, which was correct.

“Thank you for reaching out, Corporal. I appreciate it. If they call in the meantime, tell them I’ll contact them shortly.”

“That I can do. Have a good day, sir.”

“You as well.”

I hung up and just stood there breathing. I didn’t know why I felt so overwhelmed. I’d never once blamed those two for what went down. They were as much victims as I was of one man’s cruelty. Still, for some reason I felt nervous at the idea of seeing them. Not even I could explain why. I simply did. I wanted to talk to them, at the very least, even if we didn’t meet up.

On autopilot, I put my phone away, but I kept standing there. Like I wasn’t sure how to move with all the emotions rampaging through me.

The back door popped open, and Jon stuck his head out. “Donovan, why— Oh shit! What the hell happened?”

Of course he could tell in a glance my emotional state. Some days, I was so thankful he could read me like a book. It saved me from having to untangle everything in my head and try to force it out through words.

“They’re trying to find me.”

“Who? The Mafia?”

Funny. “Simin and Eshaal.”

I saw the light click on in his head. “Wait, the mother and daughter you saved in London?”

“Them. They’ve moved here, and they reached out to the army to connect with me. I…I’m happy they remember me and want to speak with me, but it’s also…” I wasn’t sure how to frame it all into something that would make sense.

He came straight over and hugged me hard around my waist. “It’s all right to feel overwhelmed. I’m sure the memory is hitting you hard right now.”

Yes. That was it precisely. The memory of the panic, the pain, the outrage I’d felt in that moment when I’d fully realized what had happened. The anger. The shame of the scars I knew I’d carry and have to explain away the rest of my life. All of it.

Jon spoke softly, calmly. “Do you still feel those scars cost you something you can never regain?”

I knew he could read my answer without asking, but I appreciated he asked, regardless. Putting the feeling into words helped like nothing else could. “Sometimes, if I’m being honest. It’s rare these days, but when we meet someone new, I can see their initial knee-jerk reaction of fear. I’m reminded of those early days out of rehab, when I was trying to rebuild my life and kind of failing at it.”

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