Page 9 of Into the Shadows

“We’ve found the target. I need you to gather your team for the brief.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Plane leaves at oh six hundred,”Commander Brettfield says before dismissing us.

Chairs scrape across the floor as my team stands from their tables. A few of us split off toward the mess hall with silent steps. This mission is going to be intense. The recon team found our target, but they weren’t able to get a good read on his schedule, which means we’ll have to be on alert and ready at all times. We could get the order to move inwithin a week, or it could take a year before an opportunity presents itself.

Once we get our food, we sit at a round table to eat. None of us says anything for a bit. We’re too busy thinking about what’s coming to joke around with each other. Well…most of us.

“Anyone else thinking about how long it’s going to be before we get laid again?” Kyle quips, breaking the tension that has grown exponentially.

Oscar throws a napkin at him. “Shut the fuck up, horndog.”

“Seriously, though.” Kyle grins. “Have you ever gone a whole year without?”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “I’m married, asshole. Of course, I have.”

“Dude. I never want to get married if she’s going to hold out for a year.”

“I was deployed, you idiot.”

“Ohhhh. Still…” Kyle visibly shudders. “Pass.”

The guys laugh. I won’t tell him how long it’s been since I’ve gotten any action. I think I was on leave over a year ago now, and looking back, I’m not even sure it was worth it. What I told Lottie was true. I’m getting tired. I’m one of the oldest guys here, and I’ve been on the special ops team for a long time now. I don’t have any desire to move up into a role like our commander, but I’m not sure how much longer I can keep doing this.

Depending on how long this next deployment takes, it might be my last.

We finish dinner and go our separate ways, each of us trying to take advantage of our last night stateside.

When I get back to my room, I finally give in to the urge to read Lottie’s email. She doesn’t say anything groundbreaking, but the way she talks about her life makes me smile. Shesounds happy. I’ve never experienced the type of happiness Lottie exudes. The only good thing that has ever happened to me was a recruiter coming to my school. College was never in my future. Having a better path than barely surviving on low-paying jobs saved my life.

I type out a response, letting her know we’re about to go dark for a while. I always tell her she doesn’t need to email me until I get back, but she does anyway. Seeing those messages when I return gives me a sense of home. As if someone’s been waiting for me while I’ve been gone.

She sends a response a minute later with a new selfie and tells me not to forget about her while I’m gone. Like I could ever do that.

When I open the image, I smile. She’s so fucking beautiful. Her dark hair hangs over her shoulders, framing her round face. Those amber eyes make me feel like she’s looking straight through me, and her sparkling smile makes me want to smile back. It’s ridiculous how much this one image can affect me.

Something comes over me, and I head off base, needing to get this image printed. For some reason, I have this urge to carry her picture around with me. Given that I likely won’t have my phone handy, I want a hard copy to keep in my pocket.

Half an hour later, I’m back in my room, with Lottie’s picture tucked away in my stuff. Now that I’ve done it, I feel like a fucking idiot. It’s not like she’s my girlfriend. We aren’t dating and don’t even have a physical relationship. God knows the guys will give me hell if they find it.

But for some reason, I need her with me on this mission. Maybe it’s because this might be my last one or because I know I won’t be able to read her messages very often. Either way, when we board the plane the next morning, I press my palm to my chest and feel her photo in my pocket.

Chapter 5

Lottie

Twenty-six years old

“As of today, there’s been no new information released to the media. We still don’t know what happened to Ryder Underhill the night he disappeared. The evidence makes it seem like someone he knew did this, and statistically, it’s the likely scenario. I’ll be keeping an eye on updates to this case, so be sure to follow the podcast to get notifications. For now, I’m Charlie Jackson, and this isCriminal Mayhem.” I end the recording and push my microphone back on my desk.

The cases I cover without any resolution are always the hardest on me. I do them because they keep my followers involved in my podcast. They’re more likely to listen to my other seasons while they wait for more information on the case they care about most. It’s a lesson I’ve learned the hard way over the years.

After graduating with my journalism degree, I faced some hard truths. I had no desire to spend the next fifteen years working for small-town news programs, making pennies a year for the minuscule chance of getting a spot with a bigger city’s channel. Especially when all I wanted to do was move home.

But that idea brought its own challenges. I didn’t have a single job prospect—in the news field or otherwise.

Becoming a podcaster wasn’t even in my top ten ideas when Gia started gushing about a comedy show she’d discovered. I began exploring the platform only to find tons of true crime shows, which, of course, piqued my interest. Growing up as the police chief’s daughter, I was naturally curious about crime. My dad always teased me about curiosity killing the cat, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to solve crimes like my daddy. I didn’t want to be a police officer, though, so I’d pushed the interest to the back of my mind.

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