Page 41 of A More Perfect Union

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Zoey sat in the backof the car with Rook, steaming. She needed to call Sharp, but she didn’t daremake the call when Rook or George, for that matter, could overhear her everyword. Damn Rook for trying to shut her out, especially after their kiss. She feltlike a fool for letting her guard down.

Rook was on the phonethe entire ride to Mitchell’s residence, talking to everyone but her. From thesound of it, she was rounding up an enormous team to deal with any contingency.Zoey started to rethink her decision not to call Sharp, but before she couldact on it, the car stopped and George announced they’d arrived at theirdestination.

Rook started to openher door, but she turned back to face Zoey. “Follow my lead and don’t sayanything to anyone without running it by me first. Understood?”

The harsh tone, thebossy words—everything about Rook’s changed demeanor—put Zoey on the defensive,which was exactly the opposite of where she needed to be. She was here as anofficer of the Army, a direct report to the Joint Chiefs, and she wasn’t takingorders from a civilian, no matter who she thought she was. She assumed a sharptone of her own. “No. I’m not here to follow your lead. I’m in charge of thisinvestigation. My bosses might report to the White House, but none of us reportto you. If Colonel Mitchell’s death is related to this case, then we can talkabout how we’ll work together, but if it isn’t, then the local police caninvestigate and we can move to the next name on our witness list. Understood?”

For a second, Rooklooked surprised at her blowback, but then shook her head. “Okay, Major. Comeon in. I think you’re going to be in for a big surprise.”

Zoey scrambled tofollow Rook up the walk. The house was a modest two-story with a wraparoundporch decorated for spring with newly planted flowers in bright ceramic pots.Zoey was indeed surprised not to see any signs of police activity on thestreet. Maybe they’d parked in back? The front door had a gatekeeper, a tall,thin man in a dark suit with an earpiece. His lips were moving, and Zoeywondered if he was telling someone they were coming in. Rook flashed her ID andleaned in close to whisper something, after which the man propped open the door and motioned for them to go inside.

The place wasswarming with activity. A few men in suits were busy searching every nook andcranny while a huddled group consisting of a woman and two children that Zoeypegged as Mitchell’s family stood in the corner. Rook walked over to one of themen. They spoke in low, whispered voices, and then Rook strode towardMitchell’s family and took the woman’s hand. “Mrs. Mitchell, I’m so sorry foryour loss. President Garrett asked me to give you his condolences. You can beassured your husband will receive a service befitting his command, but rightnow we need to deal with some housekeeping items. Do you have someone, a familymember maybe, that you could stay with for a few days?” At Mrs. Mitchell’s nod,Rook turned to one of the men in suits and signaled for him to come over. “Thisgentleman is going to take you and your children wherever you would like togo.”

Zoey watched theirfrightened faces, clearly hesitant to follow the stranger from their house.Deciding it was time to contact Sharp and involve the Pentagon, she pulled outher phone and scrolled to find his number. Before she could connect the call,Rook grabbed the phone from her hand and pulled her into the hall.

Zoey struggled fromher grasp. “We have protocols when an officer dies. I need to make some calls.”

“Don’t even thinkabout it. No calls, no texts, no emails.”

“Not your decision tomake,” Zoey said, reaching for her phone. “Either you give me back my phone orI’m out of here.”

“What do you plan todo when you leave? This death didn’t occur on a base and it’s not yourjurisdiction. It’s being handled.”

“By whom? I don’t seeany DC Police.” Zoey pointed to one of the suited men searching the house. “Idon’t know who these people are.”

“Trust me, you don’twant to.”

“What about thefamily? Should we have spoken to them about what happened?”

“They came home andfound him already dead. Arrangements have been made for them to give fullstatements, but not here, not now.” Rook pointed down the hall. “Come with me.”

She took off, andZoey watched her go, torn between protocol and practicality. Fact was shedidn’t know what to do in this situation. For all she knew someone well aboveher pay grade was already involved. Should she trust that they knew what theywere doing, or was not calling Sharp a dereliction of her duty? Either way, itappeared that if she wanted to get to the bottom of why Mitchell was dead, heronly hope was to go with Rook and find out what she could.

Rook, face grim,stopped her at the door and shoved a pair of paper booties at her. “Put theseon and don’t touch anything. Prepare yourself. It’s not pretty.”

Zoey leaned down toslip the booties over her shoes and nearly slipped. Rook grabbed her hand,gently this time. “Here,” she said, motioning to her shoulder. “It’s easier ifyou hold on.”

“Thanks.” Zoey heldon tight to Rook’s shoulder and managed to get both booties on her shoes. Withno further reason to hold on, she let go and immediately felt a sense of lossat the broken connection from Rook’s grounding force. Rook was so in controland in charge, like she visited scenes of violence every day. Zoey pointed intothe room. “Is this where he…?”

“Yes. Step carefullyand stay right next to me.”

Zoey followed Rookinto the room, sweeping her gaze slowly and carefully from side to side to takeeverything in. The space looked like a study with a large roll top desk againstthe far wall and bookcases lining the rest of the room. As she looked around,the sour, metallic smell of blood hit her nostrils, but it didn’t entirelyprepare her for the gruesome scene that served as the focal point.

The man on the floorlay on his side, a macabre sight. The profile of his face was recognizable asColonel Mitchell, but the back of his head was a large, gaping mass. Graymatter and blood were splattered to the rear of the chair situated in the exactmiddle of the room. If she hadn’t met him, she might be able to hold back areaction, but this man had been in her office only yesterday, pleading with hernot to involve him in her investigation. Guilt gripped her, but she’d had noreason to think his entreaty was a matter of life and death. “Did he leave anote?”

“We’re not sure yet.”Rook’s dark eyes bored into her own. “We’re not ruling anything out at thispoint. We don’t have to stay in here, but I thought it might be helpful if youwere present when we went through his desk, you know, in case we find somethingthat you might have special knowledge about.”

“You mean top secretmilitary stuff?”

“Something likethat.”

Zoey nodded, butRook’s words about not ruling anything out played on a reel in her head. Wasthere some reason to think Mitchell’s death wasn’t a suicide? She wanted toask, but the presence of the other people in the room gave her pause. “I canlook, but I don’t think I’d know if anything he has is important. Where shouldI start?”

Rook waved at a womanon the other side of the room. “Major Granger, this is Blake Wyatt. She’ll staywith you and process anything you find that might be helpful.”

Zoey assessed thestranger. Tall, blond, and model-thin, Blake wore a skin-hugging midnight bluedress that hit mid-thigh and she looked like she’d come straight from a party.General instinct told Zoey not to trust a civilian, but despite the way she wasdressed, this woman’s rigid posture and economical movements screamed some kindof law enforcement and maybe even a military bearing. With no specific reasonnot to trust her, Zoey decided to play along for now. “Show me what you’vefound.”

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