Page 27 of A More Perfect Union

“Actually, no. I waslooking at bigger picture transactions.”

“He’s talking aboutshort sales,” Rook said. “While Diamond’s stock was in free fall last week, anupstart hedge fund was making a killing short-selling your stock. Do any of youhappen to be familiar with the name SA Investments?” She looked at each ofthem. Melissa’s and Linus’s expressions registered genuine ignorance, but theother guy started to shift in his seat. “Eric pulled their SEC records andfound that the manager’s name is Samuel Anders.”

“That’s your son,”Melissa exclaimed, staring at the CFO.

“I don’t knowanything about this,” Anders said, raising his hands in protest. “Besides, areyou really going to believe some hacker who’s probably sitting in a basementsomewhere, violating a dozen federal laws?”

Rook held back alaugh and injected a fierce tone into her voice. “Back down. Eric Pryor issitting in my offices right now and he’s the best computer specialist you’llever meet. Of course, I don’t think you’re ever going to meet him or anyonelike him where you’re going.” She turned back to Melissa. “You need to get yourin-house counsel in here right away and lock down Anders’s office. But call theSEC first, so you can be first in the door.”

Rook gave them a fewmore instructions, including not talking to anyone in the media until she hadtime to craft a statement for the press, and then she left. George showed upwithin minutes of her call and handed her a sandwich as she settled into thecar.

“You have about anhour and a half until your meeting at the Pentagon,” he said. “You want to goback to the office?”

If she went back tothe office, it would be easier to make calls and get a press release ready togo, but she’d likely get wrapped up in a ton of other cases vying for herattention. What she really wanted to do was have a little time alone to shiftgears before she saw Zoey again and before she had to become immersed in thebureaucracy of the Pentagon. Once again, she pondered why she’d agreed to takethis case. Would she have agreed if she’d known Zoey was going to be involved?Didn’t matter now since she’d already committed, but she was more committedthan ever to making sure she finished the work quickly so she could extricateherself from the morass of military bureaucracy. She shivered at the idea shewould have to spend any time at the Pentagon and decided she needed to steelherself for the afternoon ahead.

Rook made a snapdecision. “George, let’s head to Arlington. I’ll text Lacy and let her know thechange in plans.”

The trip from DiamondCredit’s offices across the river only took about thirty minutes, during whichRook called the office and dictated a draft of a press release about howDiamond’s CEO’s diligent efforts had uncovered the source of the data breachand she was working with the appropriate government agencies to ensure theirobligations were met. She also called an old pal with the SEC and gave her theheads up that Diamond’s CFO was the target of their internal investigation. Shetyped a few emails on her phone and then leaned back in her seat to relaxbefore they reached their destination.

Without being told,George pulled into the parking lot of Twin Towers Florist and kept the caridling while she wandered around inside and selected a bouquet of freshflowers. She returned to the car, and within five minutes, they pulled into theparking lot at Arlington National Cemetery. George showed their permit at theguard gate and drove directly to the spot they’d stopped at many times.

“I’ll be back in afew minutes,” Rook said.

“Stay as long as youlike.”

Rook didn’t botheranswering. There was no “like” to these trips although she made them often.Every single time was a horrific reminder that her brother Rory was gone and hewould never be back. She pulled a plastic cone for the flowers from thereceptacle near the roadway that ran through the massive cemetery and trudgedtoward his headstone.

When she reached herdestination, she knelt in the grass and let her gaze sweep the property. Thelong, white rows of sameness always struck her with their stark reminders ofthe cost of war, and her stomach roiled as she relived her own loss. Strugglingto focus on something besides her grief, she forced her vision back to herbrother’s headstone and murmured the words she’d memorized years ago. Rory haddied on the battlefield, and even though his death hadn’t come at the hands ofthe enemy, the basic details—name, rank, branch of service, date of birth, anddate of death—were followed with chiseled proof of his heroism, Purple Heartand Silver Star. She traced the words with her finger, truth and lies, blendingtogether to tell a story that had ended too soon.

The rest of theritual was easier now that she was grounded. She told him about her meeting atthe White House, the stupidity of the soldiers at McNair, and she evenmentioned Zoey. He would have teased her unmercifully about being attracted toa soldier. When she was done talking, she nestled the plastic cone in the grassand inserted the flowers one at a time, taking care to arrange them in abeautiful display that Rory would have scoffed at. Today’s flowers were lilies.The florist had been stuffed with them, no doubt because of the impendingEaster season. As ubiquitous as they were, Rook found comfort in their beauty,their soft, white purity.

Her thoughts wereshattered by the sharp crack of gunfire. She shook and braced for the rounds tofollow—seven guns, three volleys in a row, twenty-one rounds to commemorate adeath. She remembered thinking, during Rory’s funeral, how off balance itseemed that gunfire was used to honor him when gunfire was the reason his bodywas waiting to be buried. More irony—Rory was the only one in her family whowould enjoy the joke.

She finishedarranging the flowers and stood, smoothing her rumpled clothes. Maybe somedayshe would find answers to the questions she had about his death, but in themeantime, she would visit and pay tribute to a life she believed had been givenin vain.

* * *

Zoey took the keysfrom the landlord and only half listened as he rattled off all the things hethought she needed to know about the house. When he finally left, she took afew minutes to wander through the empty rooms. Somehow it looked smallerwithout all the furniture that had been here when she’d seen it the first time,but the thought of purchasing furnishings felt daunting. The movers wouldarrive later in the evening with the few boxes of books, clothes, and otherpersonal effects she hadn’t been able to fit in her 370Z coupe, her one luxury.Their small load would barely fill a couple of closets in this house. Had shemade a huge mistake not renting a cozy little apartment?

Too late now. She’dsigned the lease and this place was hers for the next year unless she wound upbeing shipped out. She checked the time, pleased to see that the entire processof this commitment had only taken fifteen minutes. If she drove back to thePentagon, she could even stop and grab some lunch along the way. She locked thefront door, climbed into her car, and drove off, scouring the side streetsalong the way for something quick that wasn’t fast food. She’d driven a fewmiles without finding any options when she spotted a sign for ArlingtonCemetery, the one big item on her list of DC landmarks she hadn’t made it toyet. The cemetery was only a few miles away. If she skipped lunch, she could goby, pay her respects to fallen friends, and make it back to the office inplenty of time to prepare for the first round of interviews. A small naggingvoice told her she was avoiding her new responsibilities, but she ignored itand took the next turn.

After she parked, shewalked around until she found the visitor center where a Marine corpsman showedher how to locate a particular grave using the app on her phone. She spent afew minutes looking up names and located one of the men she’d served with inAfghanistan. She’d lost others, but they must have been buried elsewhere.Unfortunately, after the bodies were returned home, she’d lost track of whathappened, having returned her attention to the work at hand. She’d alwaysintended to go visit the families of her fallen comrades when she returned tothe States, but now that she was back, it felt awkward to show up at astranger’s door, stirring up memories that were, to her mind, best left buried.She’d pay her respects now and not make similar promises in the future.

Zoey hailed a shuttleand gave the location to the driver. After a few more people boarded, he tookoff through the grounds, stopping to let passengers off and on as they drovepast the perfect rows of white headstones, lined up by the thousands. She’dread in the visitor’s center that approximately thirty funerals were held hereeach day, and while she knew many of the dead were aging veterans, she couldn’thelp but be overwhelmed by the marble markers of loss surrounding her.

She found LieutenantKyle Peavy’s headstone fairly quickly after the shuttle driver stopped to lether out. Unlike the other markers she saw that contained endearments like “lovingfather” or “dutiful son,” Kyle’s headstone matter-of-factly listed his name,rank, date of birth, date of death, and nothing else. She’d known him as wellas she’d known most of the people she served with, but she was embarrassed toadmit she didn’t know if he had a family. What she knew could be summarized byher observation that Kyle had been a hardworking officer, dedicated to hiswork, but always finding time to have fun. She fished back through her memoryand settled on a memory of Kyle pulling a prank on one of their fellow officersthe day before a suicide bomber exploded on the sports field where Kyle and afew others were playing a pickup game of soccer.

She kneeled in frontof the white marble, wishing she’d thought to bring flowers, a flag, sometribute to a life that had been cut short. A life too quickly forgotten.“Dedicated soldier. Liked by all.” She whispered the words that should havebeen on this headstone, words she wished she’d said to him and vowed shewouldn’t forget again.

A different shuttlepicked her up for the ride back to the main gate, and it took a winding paththrough the cemetery, stopping to drop off and pick up other visitors along theway. Zoey stared out the window lost in memory and sadness. How could anyonework here each day amid the constant reminders of death and sacrifice?Suddenly, she spotted a familiar figure sitting in front of a headstone. No, itcouldn’t be…could it? She squinted against the sunlight, certain her eyes weretricking her, but as they drove closer, she spotted the familiar sedan she’dridden in the day she arrived in DC. Rook was hunched over a grave, her facedrawn and her shoulders quaking.

The shuttle stoppedto let someone out, and Zoey kept her eyes trained on Rook who was fullyfocused on the headstone in front of her. In the distance, the crack of rifleshots pierced the weight of silence. She flinched at the unexpected sound, andRook did too. In that moment, Zoey felt the kinship of loss and filed the imageof Rook, standing next to a grave, looking lost and alone, under things theyhad in common. The realization was strangely comforting.

Chapter Ten

Zoey pushedthrough the door of her office, acutely conscious of Dixon on her heels.

“We need to figureout a way to keep Bloomfield’s son out of this,” he said, his voice a gratingburr.

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