Chapter 2 - THE SOLDIER UPSTAIRS
Daniel did not run up the staircase.
Every instinct told him to.
Training told him something else.
Unknown person.
Terrified injured spouse.
Aggressive family member behind him.
No idea whether the man upstairs was armed.
Daniel put Rachel behind him.
“Stay here.”
Vanessa stood.
“Daniel, don't make this worse.”
He looked at her.
“You knew he was there.”
She said nothing.
Daniel raised his voice.
“Whoever's upstairs, come to the landing.”
Silence.
Then:
“Daniel?”
The voice was clearer now.
Daniel knew it.
That almost made things worse.
“Mercer?”
A man appeared at the end of the upstairs hall.
Staff Sergeant Owen Mercer.
Forty-one.
Daniel had served with him for three years.
Rear-detachment operations during the final phase of Daniel's deployment.
Same Army uniform because of course it was the same Army uniform.
His own brown duffel sat near the guest-room door.
The ordinary explanation should have relieved Daniel.
It didn't.
Owen looked down at him.
Then at Rachel.
Then Vanessa.
“What happened?”
Daniel stared.
“You tell me.”
Owen came halfway down the stairs.
“I got here last night.”
Rachel flinched.
Daniel felt it against his arm.
“Why?”
Owen looked toward Vanessa.
“She asked me to.”
Daniel slowly turned toward his mother.
Vanessa said:
“I needed help.”
“With what?”
“Rachel came home from surgery three days ago.”
Daniel's eyes moved back to his wife.
“Surgery.”
Rachel's face tightened.
Owen came down another step.
“Daniel, I thought you knew.”
“I knew nothing.”
Owen stopped.
Daniel reached carefully toward Rachel's head.
He didn't touch it.
“Why is your head shaved?”
Rachel answered before Vanessa could.
“I fell.”
“When?”
“Eight days ago.”
Daniel stared.
Eight days.
His last call with Rachel had been six days ago.
Brief.
Bad connection.
She had told him she was tired.
Nothing else.
“You were already in the hospital when we talked?”
Rachel looked down.
“Yes.”
Daniel felt anger rise.
Not at her yet.
At everything.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Vanessa stepped in.
“She didn't want you pulled out of movement.”
Rachel looked at her.
“I can answer.”
Vanessa went quiet.
Rachel looked at Daniel.
“You were finally coming home.”
“That doesn't answer it.”
“I thought you'd be here in a week.”
“And if I'd known?”
“You would've tried to come earlier.”
“Yes.”
“That was what I didn't want.”
Daniel stared.
It was infuriating.
It was also Rachel.
She had spent his entire deployment refusing to become what she called “the emergency that eats the mission.”
Bad decision.
Not proof Vanessa had done anything.
Then Daniel looked at Owen.
“Why were you in my house overnight?”
Owen hesitated.
“Your mother said Rachel wasn't safe alone.”
Rachel laughed once.
It had no humor.
“I wasn't alone.”
Owen looked at her.
“She said you were having memory problems.”
Rachel's expression changed.
Daniel caught it.
“What memory problems?”
Vanessa said:
“After brain surgery, she was confused.”
Daniel's head snapped toward her.
“Brain surgery.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
“Epidural bleed.”
For a second Daniel heard nothing else.
Owen said quietly:
“She had surgery the night she fell.”
Daniel stepped back.
Eight days.
His wife had undergone emergency neurosurgery.
His mother had been inside this house with her.
A soldier from his unit had spent last night upstairs.
And somehow Daniel had reached his own front door knowing none of it.
Then Rachel looked at Owen.
“Did she tell you he was supposed to be here?”
Owen frowned.
“What?”
Rachel pointed at Daniel.
“Did she tell you Daniel was already home?”
Owen's face changed.
“No.”
Rachel looked at Vanessa.
Daniel followed.
Vanessa's mouth tightened.
Rachel whispered:
“You told me he was upstairs.”
Owen stared.
“What?”
Vanessa stood abruptly.
“She was medicated.”
Rachel's voice sharpened.
“You said Daniel came home while I was sleeping.”
Daniel's skin went cold.
Rachel continued.
“You said he didn't want to see me until I signed.”
Owen looked toward Vanessa.
“Signed what?”
Nobody answered.
May you like
Daniel did.
“That's what we're finding out.”
