Smiling, Benbow shook his head. “No. My mother was a good woman, Megan. If anybody went to heaven when all those disappearances took place, she did. Now I’ve just got to work on getting right with God myself, believing and trusting so I get to see her. If I don’t, she’ll never let me hear the end of it.”
Megan laughed a little, and the release of emotion brought tears to her eyes. She was beginning to feel like everything was going to be all right.
The desk phone rang. Benbow picked the handset up and spoke his name. Then he listened for a while. All the levity left his features. He said thanks to whoever was on the other end of the line and hung up.
“There’s been a change in plans,” Benbow stated grimly.
“What?”
“Major Trimble has taken it upon himself, at General Braddock’s insistence I’d bet, to take the position of opposing counsel during the trial.” Benbow looked at his notes.
“Is that going to be a problem?”
Benbow paused a moment before speaking. “Major Trimble is a ranking officer. He’s got a lot of history here at this fort and probably with the men and women who will make up the jury. They’re going to weigh everything he says in his favor. In addition to that, he’s the head chaplain, which creates some tension with the interview you just did with Penny Gillespie and her religious program.” He sighed and locked his hands behind his head as he looked down at his notes with regret. “Yeah. I’d say this is going to be a problem.”
United States of America
Fort Benning, Georgia
Local Time 2223 Hours
“Jenny! Phone!”
Roused from fitful slumber, Jenny woke in one of the living-room chairs and glanced at the time on the cable box on the television across the room. When she saw the time, she remembered Megan was in a meeting with Lieutenant Benbow.
“Phone,” Casey Schmidt called again. She hovered near the phone and seemed to have an almost psychic ability about when it was going to ring.
Jenny walked to the kitchen and took the cordless handset from the girl. Jenny covered the mouthpiece. “Who is it?”
The girl shrugged and continued dealing cards. “I didn’t ask. He didn’t say.” She wrinkled her nose. “Whoever it is, he sounds like he really has a problem.”
Reluctantly, Jenny pulled the phone to her ear. Since Megan’s interview on Dove TV had aired, the Gander phone line had blazed with activity.
“Hello,” Jenny said.
“Hey, girlie,” Jackson McGrath greeted in his whiskey-roughened voice.
“Dad.” Jenny’s heart plummeted. “You’re drunk.” The words were out of her mouth before she even knew she’d thought them. She instantly felt guilty. The last few days of stress and helping out were really taking their toll on her. Now, with Megan’s trial starting in the morning and all the attention from the media people regarding Penny Gillespie’s interview, the stress levels had cranked up.
“Well, now,” her dad blustered, “ain’t that a fine how-do-you-do? Here I am, callin’ to apologize, and you up and blast me with something like that.” He snorted. “And I’m not drunk. I admit I’ve been drinkin’ some, but it’s Thursday night and they say the end of the world is right around the corner so I figure I’m entitled.”
Jenny walked through the kitchen and out onto the patio. She stood alone in the darkness, staring at the long rectangle of light that spilled out from the kitchen window.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just tired.”
“What from?”
“I’m helping a friend.”
“Hope the pay is good,” Jackson McGrath said. “Them people at the Kettle O’ Fish called and said you ain’t got no job no more. Can’t believe you done let yourself go and get fired.”
“I didn’t get fired,” Jenny said, feeling the guilt at once. “The restaurant is closed for right now. Sounds like maybe they’re not going to reopen it.”
“And now whose fault is that?” McGrath belched in her ear.
“There are a lot of businesses that are closing down, Dad,” Jenny said. “Haven’t you been watching television?”
“Naw. Too depressin’. But I been out lookin’ for work.”
Jenny knew the statement was a lie from the tone in his voice. “Find anything?” she asked hopefully. If he found something to do that he enjoyed he usually stayed sober at least for a while.
“Naw. And I talked to the apartment managers, see if they was gonna work us some slack what with all this stuff goin’ on. They said they wasn’t. We’re already a week late on this month’s rent.”
“I paid this month’s rent,” Jenny said. “I saw the receipt.”
Her dad lit a cigarette at the other end of the phone connection. “Actually, girlie, you paid last month’s rent three weeks late.”
Jenny remembered the receipt then, remembered how February had been scratched out and March had been written in. Her dad had said they’d made a mistake on the receipt, written down the wrong month and hadn’t wanted to write a new receipt.
“You changed the month,” she said.
He paused. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.”
“You were supposed to pay February’s rent.”
“Well, now, I would have. I surely would have. But I had that mechanic work done on the truck.”
Jenny fought back tears. “I saw the bill for the mechanic. It was less than half the cost of the rent.”
“I know, I know, girlie. But the problem was, I didn’t have all the rent money, now did I?”
“You spent it.”
“Yeah, yeah I did. An’ I gotta admit, it was gone before I knew it. I figured we’d just make it up next time. Me an’ you pay double rent. Only the apartment folks was pressurin’ me.”
“Why didn’t they call me?” They always had in the past.
“I told ‘em not to. I told ‘em it was mine to take care of ‘cause you were just a kid.”
And we haven’t lived in this place long enough for them to know you can’t be trusted.
“I tried to work a deal with the managers,” Jackson McGrath said. “I told ‘em the
