Chapter 31

Roy couldn't believe how excited Jenny was as she said her goodbyes and hung up the phone.

“I'm assuming it all went well, then?” he asked, flinching as she jumped up on him.

She pulled him close before backing up just enough to plant a big kiss on his lips. He reacted quickly, his hand sliding up her lower back as he held her close.

“He's coming in the morning,” she explained when they finally released each other and he could catch his breath.

“He said he will call when gets to town. He wants to talk to Lawrence first.”

“What about Lawrence’s past? Do you think he's going to prosecute him?”

“He said he would go easy on him.”

She had a mischievous glint in her eye.

“But that's not even the best part.”

“What?”

Roy didn't know what it could be.

“Does he believe we have a case?”

“I think he does. He must interested if he is coming into town. But listen, you’re not going to believe this.”

“He knows you. He said you did a tour in Afghanistan together.”

“Is that so?”

“The name on the paper you gave me was wrong. He must have retired. I spoke with a guy called Gatrall.”

“Gatrall?”

Roy couldn't believe it.

He knew Ben Gatrall well. Ben had been his commanding officer when he was in Afghanistan and he had been glad to be assigned to his platoon. Ben was a good soldier, and an good-natured one at that.

They had been sent one afternoon to deliver some basic supplies to a settlement about five miles off base. Everything went according to plan until about half way along the route. The truck needed to be stopped so that the supplies could be secured. The rough terrain often loosened the best of knots.

Even though he was in charge, Ben still jumped down from the cab to do it. He was whistling as he walked around to the back of the truck.

Roy followed along to help him, and that was when he saw a black sliver poking out of the sand. He tackled Ben to the ground seconds before he would have stepped on it and blown them all away.

Ben had been praising him ever since. To Roy, it was just a part of the job. They lost touch when Roy was ordered to retire. Roy couldn't recall having reconnected with any of his army buddies after he set up home in Ombrea. He knew he could never face that life again, not even in conversation. It was best for everyone, especially himself, if he put his army days behind him.

But Ben Gatrall would be coming into town the next morning. His connection to Roy might even be what had piqued his interest in Joey Dale's case.

For Joey, Roy was sure he could pull himself together and see Ben again.

* * *

“Jenny?”

“Speaking.”

“It's Ben Gatrall. I'm calling to say I made it into town.”

“Thank you again for coming out, sir. You can't imagine how much we appreciate you hearing us out.”

“Of course. I'm going to head to the liquor store now and speak to Lawrence. I was hoping to come out and see Roy after if he's available.”

“He should be.”

Jenny glanced down the hall to the bathroom door.

Roy had seemed quiet since she told him Ben Gatrall was the police commissioner who would be handling the case. She assumed he would be overjoyed. After all, it meant they had someone on their side who trusted them. All they had to do now was explain the aspects of the case to him and have it backed up by people like Lawrence and Joey. It seemed pretty straight forward. Joey could be a free man by the end of the day.

Yet, Roy wasn't showing the same level of excitement. He was moody and quiet, so she had left him to himself, only speaking to him when he started a conversation with her first. Once or twice, she thought she noticed his hands shaking, but he had quickly shoved them out of sight or left the room to avoid confronting it. She didn't dare ask him about it. She knew that when he was good and ready he would be straight with her.

“Great. I just need the address.”

Jenny gave him the directions he would need to reach the cabin and ended the call.

Finally, everything seemed to be going their way. She shot another nervous glance toward the bathroom. She wished Roy would tell her what was going on with him.

* * *

Roy had long ago finished washing. The once hot water was beginning to run cold, but he couldn't find it in himself to leave the shower just yet. He rested his forehead against the cold tile and closed his eyes.

Normally, he would have spent this alone time thinking about Jenny. Being with her felt so right. She had saved him.

But now he couldn't focus on that. His mind was swirling with memories he had long ago suppressed, sometimes with a few shots of whiskey. He couldn't get away from the thoughts no matter how hard he tried. He could hear the shouts of men in his head and the whirr of helicopter blades. He could smell the stench of congealed blood on his uniform. He could still feel a twinge of pain when he touched his right shoulder.

That was where the bullet had pierced him. He had broken his arm as a kid, but he had never experienced pain like this before. It tore through every inch of his body. The pain grew gin intensity with each passing second. He could still feel his shoulder blade shifting when he moved his right arm too far back.

The men he had been with at the time had dragged him back to the convoy and got him to the closest medical unit. He could remember the face of the medical doctor who had helped to patch him back up as if he had just seen him yesterday. But it was the doctor's words that had haunted him ever since. You'll be back out there in no time, son.

Roy didn't want to be back out there. The shot to his shoulder shook him up. He was weak now, damaged goods. He couldn't go back out and face this all again. He wanted to run back to shelter. He knew he was a failure. He knew he was letting down his own country, his own friends, even, but he couldn't shake the fear.

A knock at the bathroom door startled him.

“Roy?”

Jenny wiggled the door knob.

“Roy, are you okay in there?”

“Yeah, I'll be out in a minute.”

Roy turned off the shower and stood there for a moment.

“I just have to get dressed.”

“Okay.”

He could hear the worry in her voice. He hated that she was concerned about him.

He stepped out of the shower and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He didn't like the man staring back at him.

Roy dressed quickly in his bedroom. He had shut the door in the hopes it would keep Jenny from walking in to talk to him. Luckily for him, it worked. She kept her distance.

He hated himself for keeping her at bay like this. A couple of days ago, he would have loved for her to walk in. He would have loved to take her in his arms and spend the next hour or so in bed with her.

Isabelle's girlish scream cut through the morning air, startling him.

Roy hurried to the bedroom window but it looked out over the woods and there wasn't anything to see. He opened the bedroom door and headed out into the hall.

Jenny was standing in the cabin doorway looking frantically out over the beach and the lake beyond. She was shaking her head. It appeared she didn't have a good sight of Isabelle, either.

“Where is she?” he asked frantically as he went for the only weapon he had within reach, his Swiss army knife.

“Jen, where is she?!”

“I don't see her.”

Jenny turned to him frightened, her eyes filled with tears.

“I don't see her, Roy.”

“Move aside.”

He pushed past her and ran onto the deck as another piercing scream filled the air. He couldn't waste any more time. He raced down the steps two at a time and onto the beach. His knife was out, ready for anything.

The war fresh on his mind, his instincts told him that danger could be lurking around any corner. Isabelle was all that mattered right now, PTSD or not. He could face any danger, as long as she was okay.

He rushed to the lake, but he couldn't see her out in the water. The dog was nowhere in sight, so he figured it had still to be with the child.

Roy circled around and headed for the woods. Maybe she had gone in a little too far and had lost her way. He was moving closer toward the tree line when he caught sight of her.

She had been playing near the woods, judging by the collection of pine cones at her feet. Her back was turned to him, her blue eyes wide and fixed on the tall figure moving toward her. The approaching figure had a handgun in one hand, although he didn't have it aimed at her. Isabelle was terrified.

Roy hurtled toward them at full speed. It was Chief Cartright. It had to be.

He yelled out to Isabelle that he was coming. He wanted her to know that she wasn't alone, that he was coming to rescue her.

Roy felt the sudden pain of a bullet ripping his shoulder. The jolt of the impact halted him in his tracks.

He brought a hand to the wound to slow the bleeding, but he could already feel the blood oozing through the cracks of his fingers.

He groaned in pain as he willed his legs to keep going. He had to get to Isabelle before the man could do her harm.

There was still a lot of ground to close between them. Isabelle had been backing up and was almost to the water's edge. Chief Cartright was just beyond her at the edge of the woods and dressed entirely in black. Roy was now certain it had been Cartright who he was chasing through the woods the night he went to the house.

Roy couldn't let the police chief get to Isabelle before he did.

“Cartright, stop this now,” he ordered loudly, his voice echoing across the beach.

Roy pushed on. His body threatened to give out beneath him as the pain consumed him. His shirt was warm and soaked with blood. He was beginning to feel woozy.

“Cartright, stop this madness!”

Roy’s face was dripping with sweat. He struggled to keep his eyes fixed on the police chief, but his vision was growing foggy. Cartright raised his gun a second time.

He heard Isabelle scream again, and the splash of water as she fell back into the lake. Everything else seemed to happen in a flash. He heard the angry bark of a dog, and then the crack of a pistol being fired. There were footsteps pounding down from the beach toward them. Two sets, if he wasn't mistaken. Jenny was the only one at the cabin. Who could be with her?.

Roy dropped to his knees as his legs gave way. No longer possessing the strength to hold himself up, he rolled onto his back in pain. Jenny's face hovered over him in a blur as he lay there dazed and exhausted. Something pressed against his wound. He yelled out in agony and squirmed until they retreated.

The sound of another shot a short distance away made him jump. He felt sure Isabelle was gone. You let her down, he told himself. You were supposed to keep her safe from harm, and you failed.

“Roy? Roy?”

It had to be Jenny, he decided as he felt hands pressing down on his chest. Another face appeared above his head and then a third, furrier one.

“Roy? Are you awake?” Isabelle was looking down at him, her face struck with worry. Strands of blonde curls dangled over his face, tickling his nose. He was so relieved to see her there. He’d thought she was shot. He wished he had the strength to embrace her.

“Roy, wake up!”

“I’m awake,” he murmured.

Someone pressed down on his wound again, and he cried out for mercy from the pain.

“I have to keep pressure on it so you don’t bleed out,” Jenny said, her voice firm. “I’m not going to let you die on me, Roy Peters.”

“How is he?” a male voice called from somewhere in the distance.

A figure approached, and a male face came into view.

“Good to see you, Roy. I've already called an ambulance, and they’re on their way now. You're going to be just fine.”

“What…,” Roy fumbled for words. The pain in his shoulder was relentless. His body felt numb, and his head was pounding.

“Save your strength,” Jenny whispered. “Help is on the way.”

“Cart...right,” he moaned. “What-”

“Dead, I'm afraid,” the male told him. “He turned the gun on the little girl, and I had to act fast. I had to take him down before he took the shot.”

“It's a good thing Ben came by when he did. He pushed back his interview with Lawrence so he could see you first,” Jenny explained. “A stroke of luck if ever there was one. It's a sure sign you’re going to be just fine, Roy.”

“Just fine,” Roy murmured.

His head felt muddled. His mouth was dry. He closed his eyes just to take the pressure off his head.

“Just fine,” he repeated as he let himself sink away into the black.