“Lost files, missing reports. And the documents I did manage to get my hands on had key pieces blacklined or redacted entirely. I’ll keep going if you want me to, but I recommend against it. This smacks of special ops.”
Bree thanked him for his time and said she’d think about it and get back to him.
Later that night, Bree was lying in bed, staring at her stars, when the pieces started coming together. Former Navy SEALs refusing to publicly defend themselves against inflammatory accusations. Sam’s plea to stop looking into the fires. Lenny hiding unmarked crates in abandoned mines under the watchful surveillance of Sanctuary. The arson investigator’s cautionary warning.
It was all starting to make sense.
Just because the guys at Sanctuary weren’t actively serving didn’t mean they weren’t active, nor did it mean they weren’t still serving and protecting.
And Bree knew exactly what she had to do.
* * *
Charlie looked up from his screen after reading her article, displeasure etched in his craggy features. “This is what you’re giving me?”
She sat tall and met his gaze head-on. “It’s what you sent me out there for, isn’t it? A feel-good piece about heroes among us.”
“What about everything else? The Mafia ties? The arson investigation? Those criminal record requests you charged to your expense account?”
Bree shrugged. “They didn’t pan out.”
“Didn’t pan out,” he echoed.
“Nope. Dead ends, all of them.”
Charlie’s eyes narrowed to slits. “I knew you didn’t have it in you, De Rossi.”
“You’re right, sir. I don’t, which is why I’ve decided to give you this, too.” She stood and slid a piece of paper across his desk.
He scanned it, his frown growing deeper as he did. “You’re resigning?”
She nodded. “It’s been a great experience, sir, but it’s time for me to move on.”
“Move on? To where? To what?”
She smiled, feeling freer than she had in years. “I’ll let you know when I figure that out.”
As Bree left the office, she could have sworn she saw Charlie smile.
Chapter Forty-Five
Cage
Cage reread the article for the hundredth time, feeling a sense of pride well up in his chest. Bree definitely had a knack for storytelling.
She’d made Sanctuary sound good, too, with no allusions to scandal or cultish behavior or of sketchy pasts with shady innuendo. True to her word, she’d done exactly what she’d said she was going to do.
Though it had barely been a month since he’d awoken with her in his arms, it felt like so much longer. Not a morning went by without the disappointment of waking up, only to realize he’d only dreamed of her in bed beside him, nor a night when he didn’t look up at the stars and wonder if she was looking heavenward, too. While she’d texted him a thank-you for the holographic star map projector, he had no idea if she actually used it.
He’d tried to contact her several times, but his attempts went unanswered. Her phone number was no longer in service. Emails to her work address bounced. Even the snail mail he’d sent was returned with a bright yellow No Longer at This Address, No Forwarding Address label.
A general inquiry to the Sentinel Voice revealed that she was no longer with the company, which sparked even more questions.
No longer officially became his least favorite phrase.
Did her abrupt departure have anything to do with her Sanctuary assignment? And if so, had it been her decision or someone else’s?
He didn’t know because he couldn’t ask.
Oh, he could have found her if he wanted to, but he had to respect her wishes. Clearly, she hadn’t cared to share any of that with him. She knew where he was. If she wanted to get in touch with him, she would.
The fact that she hadn’t stung more than he’d thought it would. He’d allowed himself to get too involved even though he’d known it would be a temporary thing. Any hopes he’d had of her feeling similarly had been eroding every day that went without a word from her.
He kept busy and tried not to dwell on it. Summer became fall. The leaves changed, and the weather grew colder. Mad Dog and Kate tied the knot in a private ceremony in October. Cage put a lot of time into getting suites ready for the half-dozen new residents expected in by the end of the year. They were also keeping a close eye on the mines and Freed/Petraski activity, but things had settled down, as many in the prepper group turned their attention to hunting season. He and Doc spent a good deal of time ensuring the private property was well marked and off-limits.
October turned into November. The newcomers began to arrive, which provided somewhat of a distraction. They seemed like good guys, an eclectic mix of sailors, soldiers, and airmen.
Then, Thanksgiving was upon them. Sam and Kate put on an incredible feast. The dining room was filled with old friends and new ones. Cage enjoyed the day with the rest of them, but beneath the smiles and laughter, he couldn’t help but wonder where Bree was and what she was doing. If she was okay. If she was safe. If she was happy.
Eventually, Cage left the festivities and went back to his trailer, unsurprised to see a light covering of snow on the ground. The extreme weather variability no longer fazed him. The first year, it had been seventy degrees and sunny on Thanksgiving Day. This year, it was a brisk thirty-eight and snowing.
When he got to his trailer, he kicked off his boots, turned up the heat, and sat down. He didn’t feel like doing anything really, but he finally opted to stream a movie. As he was settling in, his phone dinged with an incoming text.
Unknown: Happy Thanksgiving. Any meteor showers tonight?
Bree! His heart leaped.
Cage: Happy Thanksgiving. Hard to
