The Summer House

Chapter 51

Special Agent Manuel Sanchez is sitting alone inside his rental car in the parking lot of Briggs Brothers Funeral Home and spots another silver Ford sedan pull up next to him. Sanchez gets out, walks over, and opens the rear door, taking a seat. Pierce and Huang are sitting up front.

The interior of the car stinks of sweat and well-worn clothes.

Sanchez shuts the door. “Any word from the ice queen?”

Pierce’s hands are draped over the steering wheel. “I don’t like that nickname.”

“Tough,” Sanchez says.

Huang says, “We got a text from her a while ago. Seems like the major got himself a flight out of Hunter to Bagram. York’s on her way back, to meet us here.”

Pierce says, “So, what did you find at the dog walker’s house?”

Sanchez says, “Since York is now in command of this little detachment, I’ll wait until she gets here. I don’t want her to get upset that I’m going behind her back.”

Huang shakes his head. “She’s been a warrant officer longer than you. Cook put her in charge. What’s your problem?”

Sanchez says, “I know things. I’ve seen things. Especially when an inexperienced woman takes charge and people get hurt or killed. I don’t mind women being in charge. Only if they’ve got the background. York doesn’t have it. She’s been a state trooper, traveling the mean streets of the Beltway. And—”

Pierce says, “Here she is.”

Sanchez sees the Ford with the battered and scraped hood pull in next to them, and Pierce says, “John, you know, you don’t have to come in here.”

Huang doesn’t wait. “Captain, I’m coming in.”

Sanchez joins the JAG lawyer and the psychiatrist outside as York emerges from her own rental. She looks worn, tired, overwhelmed. Good, he thinks. Maybe later the two of them can have a come-to-Jesus meeting and she’ll do what’s right for the good of the group, letting him take the lead.

York says, “The major is on his way to Bagram, best as I can tell. After I dropped him off, I had a brief talk with Colonel Tringali, the head of the MP unit at Hunter. She knows we’ve been ordered to head back to Quantico, and if she knows, the word will get back to Virginia that we’re not currently packing our bags. We don’t have much time.”

Sanchez says, “Connie, I—”

“It’s Agent York, if you please,” she says. “What is it? We don’t have time to dick around.”

He feels his jaw tense. “Nothing, ma’am, it can wait.”

“Good,” she says, “let’s see what we can get from Mr. Briggs. Pierce, you got some legal mumbo-jumbo that will allow us to grab Stuart Pike’s body?”

“I think so,” he says, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. None of the men had time to shave this morning, and Sanchez is still steaming over York’s put-down.

“All right, let’s do this. Huang, you can stick behind if you want.”

He manages a smile. “Strength in numbers, ma’am. Maybe we’ll scare him straight or something.”

“Maybe,” she says.

With each passing second, each passing minute, York is aware that Major Cook is farther out there over the Atlantic Ocean, heading into a combat zone, while she’s taken command in a little combat zone of her own. Not only does she have to deal with an angry Army MP colonel who wants to see the three surviving Rangers have a date with an executioner’s needle; she also has somebody who’s bugged their rooms and one CID investigator who’s being a royal pain in the ass.

After brushing past the younger Mr. Briggs, she and the others are in the director’s office. Ferguson Briggs looks the same as he did the other day, save the knee-length white smock he previously wore over his black suit, and his dark-brown basset-hound eyes look surprised at seeing his office crowded with four Army personnel. York is sitting in one leather-upholstered chair, Sanchez is sitting next to her, and Pierce and Huang are against the near wall. Hidden speakers air soft classical music.

The place is carpeted, somber, with unread leather-bound books in a bookcase. One wall holds a display of casket styles, complete with finishes and handles, and various framed certificates hang opposite. Briggs’s desk is neat and orderly, with file folders and a thick black binder Connie thinks must contain the pricing options he shows the grieving. About the only object out of place is a plain brown cardboard box, tied together with string.

And speaking of grieving families, Briggs gets right to the point.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’ve come at a very bad time,” he says. “I have the Parnell family arriving in a few minutes. You need to be out of my office by then. You see, their poor son died last night, in their garage.”

“Suicide?” Connie asks.

“In a manner of speaking,” he says. “The young lad died of an overdose, like so many others in this county. One of the hardest parts will be writing the obituary. We often say ‘died suddenly at home,’ but most folks know what that means nowadays. Now, again, tell me why you’re here?”

“The bodies of the victims,” she says. “We’d like to examine them again.”

And grab one on our way out, she thinks, until we can figure out what to do next.

“I’m sorry, but all save one have been turned over to their respective families.”

Sanchez butts in. “For real? Why so soon?”

Briggs still looks mournful. “Why not? With regard to the bodies, the county sheriff has told us her investigation is complete. She authorized me to release the remains. The last family left about thirty minutes ago, the Gleason boy.”

Connie says, “Hold on. You said ‘all save one.’ Who’s left?”

“The poor gent who had his arms broken,” Briggs says. “Arrangements for his remains are still up in the air.”

“That’s good,” Connie says, “because our investigation isn’t complete, and we’d like to view him again.”

No need to mention taking Pike. She trusts Pierce, the JAG lawyer, has a strategy to use when the right time comes.

“All right, I suppose you can do that, for all the good it will do you.”

A little shiver of cold caresses the back of Connie’s neck. “I’m sorry, what do you mean by that?”

Briggs points to the cardboard box. “I received directions to cremate his remains, and there they are, waiting to be shipped to Savannah.”

The room falls silent. Connie thinks she hears the quick intake of breath from Pierce and Huang.

Briggs says, “Is there anything else I can do for the Army?”