Blood Lines (10 page)

Will nodded and ran a hand through his short-cropped black hair. “The biker guy.”

“Right.” As she studied Will, Maggie knew he was tired and struggling. Even without her degrees in psychology and years of profiling suspects and victims, she would have known that.

“You could have called me,” Will said. He was a little over six feet tall and rugged looking. He was bigger than Remy Gautreau but nowhere near as developed as Shel McHenry. His green eyes looked bloodshot. He was tan from the sun and the sea, and he wore the Navy like it was a part of him. During the last few months he'd been out sailing with his kids on the weekends every chance they'd gotten.

“You were with Steven and Wren, and it's Father's Day,” Maggie said. “I wasn't going to interrupt you. It's just a quick look-see. If it doesn't feel right, Shel and Remy will shadow Bobby Lee and wait till we can get someone there. They know the drill.”

Will watched the coffee drip into the glass pot. “Bobby Lee's elevator doesn't go quite to the top.”

Maggie smiled. “That sounds like something Shel would say.”

“That's because it is something Shel said. And he said it because Bobby Lee is dangerous.”

“Shel and Remy can handle themselves. There's no sense in sending three men on a two-man job. Shel could probably collar Bobby Lee himself.”
Besides,
Maggie thought,
you needed the time with your kids.
But she knew better than to tell Will that. He already felt torn in different directions enough by the job and his family. Getting that balance right had always been a struggle for him.

“How far out are they?”

Maggie brought up her GPS program and entered the ID designation for Shel's Jeep. It took only a second to locate the vehicle and mark its position. “They're in Charlotte now. It shouldn't be long.”

Will took a fresh cup of coffee. “When you know something . . .”

“You'll be my first call.”

>> 1915 Hours

Will stood in his office and peered out the window. The camp was still light enough that he could easily see the surrounding grounds. Everything was green and full. He knew if he opened the window he'd be able to smell the ocean.

Maybe I should have gone fishing,
he thought. But he knew that wouldn't have helped his mood. If anything, it would have made the situation worse.

“Trying to hypnotize that window?”

Refocusing on the glass, Will saw Maggie's reflection as she leaned in the doorway behind him. She was petite, a handful of inches over five feet, with an athletic body kept taut and fit through rigorous exercise. Her dark brown hair dusted her shoulders, and she regarded him with deep hazel eyes. She wore a black skirt and a white blouse, looking like all she had to do was throw on a jacket to have dinner at one of the best restaurants in Jacksonville, the city just outside Camp Lejeune. She was intelligent and insightful and incredibly competent in the field.

“Maybe,” Will replied. “I think I've almost got it.”

Maggie smiled. “So how did today with Steven and Wren go?”

Will hesitated long enough to make sure he spoke in a conversational tone. “I didn't come here to get counseling.”

“Of course you didn't. You came here because you didn't want to go home and sit there alone.”

Will sipped his coffee. She was right; he had been avoiding the emptiness of his living quarters.

“I have a counselor I talk to these days,” he said. Maggie had helped him get in touch with one of the people on base.

“Is it helping?”

It was the first time she'd asked. Will was a private person about a lot of things, and he was especially private about the painful things. What he was still going through—even after the divorce—hurt more than he wanted it to. And he didn't like talking about it.

“I think so,” Will replied.

“Good.” Maggie waited, then prompted him again. “So how's it going tonight?”

“I'm planning on talking to Doug about it next session.”

“Doug's not here right now. A lot has changed the last month. Your ex-wife has a new husband. Steven and Wren have a new stepfather. Those are big things. And Father's Day is a red-letter day.” Maggie shrugged. “I thought maybe you might want to talk about it.”

Will did. And he didn't. It was a brief struggle before the balance tipped. He took a deep breath and let the air out, and some of the tension inside his chest broke.

“It's kind of confusing actually,” he admitted.

“Because now Barbara is married again and you're not.”

Will thought about that. “Because Barbara is married again,” he agreed. “Not because I'm not. The last thing the kids or I need right now is another stepparent involved in the mix.”

Maggie smiled. “You're probably right. I suspect Barbara wouldn't handle you getting married with the same grace you've handled her marriage.”

“The way I've handled it hasn't felt very graceful.” In fact, Will sometimes felt certain that he wouldn't have made it through the transition at all without God's help. That closeness he felt—though at times it was still strained because of all the horrors he saw in his line of work—had gotten stronger in him. He'd learned to acknowledge God's presence as his quiet strength.

“I think you have been,” Maggie said.

“I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“I also suspect that her new husband—”

“Jesse,” Will said.

“—doesn't care for the situation either.”

“Probably not.”

“He's not a kid person,” Maggie said, “so having them around is . . .” She paused, searching for the right, technically inoffensive term.

“Inconvenient,” Will said.

“Having to share them with you is more than inconvenient to him,” Maggie said. “I've seen his type. He likes to be top dog. He wants it to all be about him.”

Will looked at Maggie then. “You haven't mentioned this before,” he said.

“It's because I mind my own business.”

Will cocked an eyebrow. “But here you are in my office.”

Maggie smiled guilelessly. “Yes.”

Will gestured to a seat across from his desk. Maggie slid into it and sat attentively.

“So now you don't have any more questions?” Will asked.

“You know what you want to talk about more than I do,” Maggie replied. “A good counselor only leads a conversation when that isn't the case.”

Will hesitated for a moment and wondered if talking at all was a mistake. But he felt the need to. Today had been harder than he'd expected. Taking Steven and Wren back to be with their new “dad” for part of Father's Day hadn't been easy.

“You're right about Jesse,” he said. “He does want it to be all about him.” Will shook his head. “I honestly don't know what Barbara sees in him.”

“He's always home. He's always around. It's all about him, and he wants to be there so it
can
be all about him.” Maggie shrugged. “It's not rocket science. Barbara wanted a man who was home.”

“And I wasn't.”

“Not enough for her, no. But the work you were doing with the Navy was important, Will. Never forget that. Military careers are hard on everybody. You went through the same things that she did, and you got to see your children a lot less.”

That had been one of the things Will had sought to redress after taking the NCIS posting.

“Not everybody can do what you and those other men do on a daily basis.”

“She blamed me.”

“She blamed your job. You just got caught up in the fallout. Jesse wants home to be all about him. So he's there. By default, even though it's not exactly for the right reasons, his desire meets Barbara's needs.”

“He didn't like it that Steven and Wren were with me most of today. And he didn't like it when they called and asked him if they could stay the night and come back tomorrow.”

“That would have been a big concession.”

Will nodded.

“But he wasn't big enough to make it,” Maggie said.

“No.”

“Why do you think he felt that way?”

Will folded his hands together and leaned across the desk toward her. “I'm not the professional here.”

Maggie shook her head. “That's not how we do the work. I don't just give you the answers. You have to look for them yourself. Besides, you know the answer to this one.”

Will did because the answer was simple. “Jesse didn't want them to be with me because it was a distinct reminder that it's not all about him. Not where they're concerned.”

A pleased look flashed in Maggie's hazel eyes. “Bingo. But it cuts deeper than that.”

Will's momentary triumph faded. “I don't understand.”

“You were one of the youngest lieutenants ever promoted to commander,” Maggie said. “You can figure this one out.” She sipped her coffee.

Will was silent for a full minute as he tried to wrap his brain around what Maggie was saying.

“Do you think Jesse would have usurped Father's Day from you if he could have?” Maggie asked finally.

“Yes.” Will answered without hesitation.

“But he didn't.”

“No.”

“Why do you think he didn't?”

“Because it's Father's Day.”

“Is the visitation written out in the divorce papers?”

Will gave that consideration and shook his head. “No. But it only seems fair. Barbara gets them on Mother's Day.”

“Because you allow it.”

“Yes.” Then Will understood. “And
she
allowed me to have them today.”

“In spite of the fact that Steven and Wren have a new father figure in the house. This was Jesse's first Father's Day with them as their stepdad. It was probably kind of a big thing to him.”

“Because it's all about him. Only today wasn't, because Barbara didn't let that happen.”

Maggie nodded.

“Maybe I shouldn't feel as angry at Barbara as I have been for not having Steven and Wren all day.”

“You're going to feel the way you feel, Will,” Maggie said. “I just want you to understand that you had something good today—several hours of almost stress-free time with your kids—that could have been much harder.”

“Barbara wanted me to be with Steven and Wren today.”

“I think so. But that can't have set well with her new husband.”

“Because it's not all about him.”

“Exactly. But even if they'd been there, he wouldn't have appreciated them as much as you did. The emotional ties and investments aren't there.”

Thinking back over the way Steven and Wren had reluctantly left him when he'd dropped them off, Will realized that what Maggie was saying was true. It helped a little.

“Father's Day has gotten complicated,” he said.

“But not impossible.”

“No.”
And please, God, never let it be impossible.
Will relaxed a little more and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

“Neither have I. I could order Chinese in.”

“Sure.”

Even as Will reached for the phone on his desk, though, it rang. He lifted the handset and identified himself.

“Commander,” a no-nonsense voice on the other end of the connection said, “I'm Special Agent-in-Charge Scott Urlacher of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. If I may, I need a moment of your time.”

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>> NCIS Offices

>> Camp Lejeune, north carolina

>> 1923 Hours

Will covered the mouthpiece and looked at Maggie. “FBI. SAC Urlacher?”

Maggie shook her head, letting him know the name meant nothing to her.

“What can I do for you, Agent Urlacher?” Will hit the speakerphone button, motioning for Maggie to stay quiet.

“Do you know a man named Victor Gant?” Urlacher responded.