Breaking Creed

30

“Are you sure that’s her real name?”

Hannah looked up from the stack of papers and nodded at Claudia Reed.

“I got it from her passport.” Then before Claudia could ask the next obvious question, Hannah added, “Yes, it’s a valid passport.”

Hannah had been volunteering at Segway House since the day she helped open its doors. She hated, however, that the anniversary of her service reminded her of her husband’s death. Ironically, if it hadn’t been for Marcus getting killed in Iraq, Hannah probably never would have become involved in such a place.

She also never would have met, let alone become friends with, the petite blonde sitting behind the computer. They came from two entirely different worlds. Claudia’s childhood had been filled with beautiful things and privileges that generations of wealth and influence afforded her, while Hannah grew up on her grandparents’ farm, working from dawn till dusk and scratching for every dollar she earned. But war was the great leveler, and this one had taken both their husbands without asking for pedigree or résumé.

Claudia Reed and Hannah had started Segway House with three other military wives who had also lost their husbands, in either Iraq or Afghanistan. Claudia was the only one who could afford to work full-time as the director without taking a salary.

Their fund-raising efforts were always tough. People were tired of a decade of war and wanted to forget about it. The problem was, the number of veterans who needed help only continued to grow while their government also grew tired and cash-strapped.

Hannah had just started to go through the stack of requests Claudia had handed her when she walked through the door. Last week they had approved and written checks for thirty-four grants, a total of $47,810. This week looked to equal that challenge. At a glance, she had seen requests to finance a ramp to be built for a new amputee. Another veteran was asking for a quick loan to help to have his electricity turned on, so he could return to his home. He was still waiting for his first disability check. They didn’t do loans. They called them grants and didn’t accept payback, but many of these young men and women were fiercely proud and included the wording in their request if for nothing more than to feel better about asking for money.

Segway House wasn’t limited to veterans. In the last year they had started taking in runaways, drug addicts, abused women and, sometimes, their children. They never had enough rooms to meet the demand. And there were always more needs than they could address.

At the same time, their clients and residents confided in them things that they didn’t even share with family members, and because of this, Hannah knew that she could trust Claudia.

“She’s not listed as a runaway.”

“Missing?” Hannah asked, but already knew that there was no one looking for Amanda.

Claudia shook her head and finally gave her fingers a rest from the keyboard, swiveling her desk chair to focus on Hannah. “Do you need anything?”

Hannah knew it would be the only question she would ask. Claudia wouldn’t push her to reveal anything else. Nor would she give unsolicited advice.

“I fear she’s one of those kids who done slipped through the cracks,” Hannah said, letting herself slide into slang in hopes of relieving some of the seriousness.

She wasn’t sure what she expected when she asked Claudia to do a national search. All she knew was that she had a bad feeling about the girl. Whatever trouble she had gotten herself into had not stopped back at Hartsfield’s international terminal just because Ryder had rescued her. And no matter what he wanted to believe, Hannah knew neither of them would be able to protect this girl if that drug cartel decided they wanted their property back.

“Do you know if we have any residents with electrical experience?” she asked, purposely changing the subject. “I need someone to check out our breakers before Rye hooks up any more of his gadgets.”