Eyeing the corporal fiercely, Megan put steel in her words. “Let me pass, Corporal.”
“No, ma’am. I—”
“I came out here to help that girl,” Megan interrupted. “And I’m going to help her.”
“I’m not going to throw away two lives,” Kerby stated. “Not when I can save one.”
“She could be hurt.” The words came thickly to Megan. She’d seen pictures of people who had died from self-inflicted gunshot wounds.
“Yes, ma’am. I know that. But right now you’re safe.” Kerby lowered his voice. “I know Goose, Mrs. Gander. And I know he wouldn’t like it if I allowed any harm to come to you.”
“Mister—” Megan kept her tone calm despite the fear that thrummed through her—“you can get out of my way and let me do my job, or I’m going to walk right over the top of you. If you can stop me, you’re going to have to hog-tie me to keep me down.”
Shock registered on Kerby’s face. “Ma’am?”
Megan stood her ground. “You heard me, Corporal. This is my situation. My mission. You called me into this. I’m here to help that child, and I’m not going to let you stop me. I won’t hesitate about filing a grievance with your superior officer if you continue to get in my way.”
Kerby blinked at her but didn’t move.
“Take your hand off my wrist, Corporal,” Megan ordered. “Do it now.”
With obvious reluctance and a little anger, Kerby released his hold. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You’ve got Leslie Hollister under surveillance with thermographic sights?” Megan asked.
“Affirmative.” The corporal’s reply was grim and officious.
Megan felt her heart hammering within her chest. “Confirm her status.” Find out if she shot herself. But Megan couldn’t bring herself to say those words. Even the thought of the deed was too horrendous.
Kerby clicked the walkie-talkie handset on his shoulder but never moved or looked away from Megan. “Eyes, what’s the sit-rep?”
The walkie-talkie blared a reply that Megan heard. “The subject fired a round into the wall.”
“What’s the subject’s status?”
“She appears to be unharmed.”
Kerby dropped his hand from the walkie-talkie.
“Why did she shoot the wall?” Megan asked. Kerby relayed the question.
There was no answer.
“Eyes,” Kerby prompted.
“I don’t know the answer to that.”
Megan let out a pensive breath. She locked eyes with the corporal. “The only way I’m going to do that girl any good is to get inside and talk with her.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Kerby opened the flap of his pistol holster. “Maybe you shouldn’t go in there empty-handed.” He started to remove the pistol from the holster.
In sick disbelief, Megan caught the man’s hand and stilled it upon the pistol butt. “So what? If she doesn’t harm herself, I’m supposed to do it?”
“Ma’am, that’s not what I—”
Megan got control of herself. “I know that’s not what you meant. But harming her isn’t an option.”
“With all due respect, Mrs. Gander, I don’t think you know what that girl is currently capable of doing.” Kerby’s eyes turned wintry hard and bright. “During the last two days, I’ve worked three murders and six suicides here on base. I’ve never done that before. Most of them were people I knew in mess hall or from around the family areas of the base.”
Megan had heard about the murders and suicides. Her current caseload dealt with three teens whom the horrible events affected. Like the corporal, she had known most of the people involved.
“She won’t hurt me,” Megan said.
“You don’t know that.”
“I’ve known Leslie for months.”
“And she’s been a troubled kid. I know. I was warned on my way here.” Kerby held the pistol out.
“Corporal,” Megan said in as level a voice as she could muster, “I have no intention of entering that house armed.”
“I could go with you.”
“You could not.” Megan stepped forward, taking one step to the side around the corporal. One of the other men reached for her.
“No,” Kerby said. “Let her go.”
“Doug,” one of the other MPs said, “we let her go in there and she gets hurt, it’s gonna roll over on us.”
Kerby looked at Megan. “My decision, then. Anything rolls downhill on this one, it rolls on me.”
“Thank you, Corporal,” Megan said.
Kerby shook his head. “No, ma’am. I won’t take any thanks from you. Not until you and that girl walk back out of the house in one piece.” He touched two fingers to his helmet in a salute. “Just make sure you do that, ma’am.”
“I will.” Megan turned and walked up the short sidewalk to the porch. On either side of the walkway, yellow and red tulips stood tall and proud. The life expectancy of a fully blossomed tulip was only a week, two weeks at best. But they were a great way to start an early spring after a long winter. Now, however, the cheerful and hopeful flowers seemed out of place.
Anxiety knotted a greasy ball in Megan’s stomach when she caught scent of the sickly sweet smell of marijuana on the other side of the door. What Corporal Kerby had said made sense. Megan didn’t know what she was walking into. And with drugs in Leslie Hollister’s system, Megan didn’t know what frame of mind the girl was in.
Yes, you do, Megan chided herself. She’s scared and hurt and confused. You’ve seen a lot of teenagers like this over the last two days.
But none of those had held a gun in his or her hand.
The thought was at once chilling and sobering. Megan’s hand felt as heavy as an anvil as she lifted it to knock on the door. Knocking somehow seemed more homey, more relaxed, than ringing the doorbell. Her knuckles rapped against the door.
She waited, aware of the silence after the sound of the last knock faded. Security lights pinned four of her shadows to the front of the house. She remained aware of the stares of the silent neighbors just outside the perimeter the MPs
