This Time (17 page)

Mike’s thoughts were cut off by the sound of the door opening. “That was fast,” he started, but stopped when he saw his visitor. If he’d had to describe the man, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to accurately. His hair was black, his eyes were a light, indeterminate color, and he looked tall and medium at the same time. He was wearing khakis and a black polo, but other than those obvious physical characteristics, nothing about the man stood out. He was painfully…
plain
. At least plain was the only word Mike could think of to describe his looks. If he was asked—and he would be later—Mike would have said the man was normal. Nothing else would come to mind. “Hi,” he said. “I think you have the wrong room. This is—”

“I know what room it is.” The man cut him off, and much like his appearance, his voice was disturbingly unmemorable. No decipherable accent and neither deep nor soft. Strange. “I have a question for you, Chief Davis. It is very important that you answer this question to the best of your ability.”

Mike’s heart gave a slow thud. With his security clearance, and considering the
reason
he’d been temporarily assigned to a Ranger unit, questions from a man like this did not bode well. “All right,” he responded slowly.

The man gave a curt nod. “Think carefully before you answer.” He paused, waiting for Mike’s acknowledging nod before continuing. “Was there a last minute substitution for the interpreter used for your patrol?” He watched Mike carefully.

Mike narrowed his eyes and thought hard. It was difficult to remember the day preceding the explosion, even harder than remembering the explosion itself. The explosion came back in sharp, clear images when he had flashbacks. But the day before…Well, that was fuzzy and spotty, probably because the details felt small and insignificant.

“Yeah,” Mike said, the memory coming back to him slowly. “Yeah there was. I can’t remember why, but—”

“Why is not important.” The man cut him off with a wave of his hand. “Was the assigned interpreter civilian or military?”

“Civilian,” Mike replied. This was harmless information, so Mike didn’t mind sharing up to a certain point.

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure about that? There were no civilians on staff.”

“Yeah,” Mike responded. He didn’t need the memory to know that. “They only used locally contracted civilian interpreters. The Army interpreters filled in when they didn’t show up.”

“Why did they use contracted civilians when you had military interpreters readily available?” The stranger watched Mike closely.

Mike eyed him suspiciously. This was going a little farther into details than he was comfortable with. “Look, I’m done answering questions until you tell me—”

“You’ll be done answering when I say you are.” The man’s previously unmemorable voice suddenly became deep and gravelly and extremely memorable. He cleared his throat quickly and said, “I’m part of a team investigating the explosion. That’s all you need to know. Now please, Chief, tell me why your unit wasn’t using the military interpreters provided to the Tactical Operations Center.”

“Can’t you ask the commander?” Mike asked. “Colonel Thomas will—”

“I need someone to answer that had a high enough clearance to know but doesn’t have the authority to make changes before I conclude my investigation. You are the prime candidate.” The visitor continued to watch Mike, his gaze cold and forbidding.

Mike shifted in his chair. “Look, the higher-ups felt contracting locals would give them a reason to like us and less reason to try to kill us. The two Army interpreters attached to the unit didn’t make too much of a stink about it. You know those types. They like to brag about being the smartest cookie in the box and show off their high clearance. But when it came right down to it, they were just a couple of brains without balls. They didn’t want to have to put their asses on the line, especially when there were Afghani citizens willing to do it for them.”

The man watched Michael closely for a few moments and then tightly said, “Thank you.” He left the room without another word.

Mike blinked. What the hell was that about? They were just interpreters, and it wasn’t like the Army interpreter that was tagging along had been injured, anyway. He’d been in the other Humvee, the one that hadn’t been hit by the IED. The only thing he could think of was they thought the civilian interpreters had been passing information along to the terrorists and had failed to show up to keep from being killed by their own IED. It seemed a little too obvious, but he didn’t think that was the case. The regular interpreter that usually went along on patrols, Hadji, had returned home from a London university to help his family rebuild after the war was technically over. He’d been a shy young man, no more than twenty, and Mike couldn’t see him harming anyone intentionally.

His thoughts were once again interrupted when Madelynn burst through the door, and the strange visitor was forgotten.

“Michael! I played a new game after my nap!” Madelynn hopped up and down on her toes, barely able to contain her excitement.

“A new game?” Mike exclaimed, glancing up at Tara. “Well, what was it?”

“Guess who!” Madelynn bounced over to the table and hopped up in one of the chairs.

“Well,” Mike said, grinning playfully, “Who?”

Madelynn giggled. “No, silly! That’s the name of the game!”

“The name of the game is Guess Who?” Mike scratched his head and levered himself carefully into his wheelchair. “Well, did you find out who?”

Madelynn frowned and stuck her lower lip out. “No,” she said sullenly. “Colter guessed before I did.” She brightened just as quickly and continued, “But the lady said I could borrow it and play with you if I want to!”

Mike wheeled himself over to Madelynn’s side of the table and ruffled her hair. “That sounds great! But I don’t know how good I’ll be at guessing. You’ll probably have to teach me how to play.”

Madelynn nodded and then folded her hands in her lap and looked at him, her expression very serious. “Michael?”

He took on a solemn expression to match hers. “Yes, Madelynn?”

“Are you sick because you don’t have but one leg?”

Ah. He’d wondered when it would come up. Mike had been using his wheelchair and crutches all day to give his leg a break from the prosthesis. The soreness and redness had worried him a little, so he wanted to take it easy for a day or two and make the nurses and Dr. Walters happy. “Yes, Maddie. When I was in the Navy just a few months ago, I was in a car wreck. It was really bad, and I hurt my leg so badly that the doctors had to take it off.”

Madelynn’s head cocked to the side, and she ignored Tara’s signals to stop asking questions. “But didn’t you have a leg yesterday?”

Mike chucked softly. “No, I had a
fake
leg. I put it where my old leg was, and I can walk again. But it hurts sometimes, and that’s why I don’t have it today.”

Madelynn furrowed her brow and eyed him disbelievingly. “A fake leg? Like a pirate? Can I see it?”

“Sure.” Mike turned his wheelchair and retrieved the prosthesis from the shelf beside the bed. He showed it to Madelynn and explained how it attached. When his explanation was done, her eyes were wide and curious.

“I wonder how many more people have fake legs that I can’t see…” Madelynn whispered, watching the prosthesis carefully.

Before she could ask any more questions, Tara jumped in and reminded her, “Madelynn, what did I say about asking Michael questions?”

“Not to.” Madelynn pouted.

“That’s right. Now—”

Mike interrupted her, “It’s okay.” When Tara shook her head and opened her mouth to protest, he said, “No, really, I don’t mind.”

Tara nodded and moved to place her hand on Madelynn’s shoulder.

Madelynn watched Mike carefully for a few moments, and he marveled that she could stay so still and quiet while maintaining such a direct gaze.

“Does it hurt?” Madelynn asked in a soft tone, concern clear in her tiny voice.

Mike’s heart lurched, and he debated for a moment, not certain how much knowledge was appropriate for a five-year-old. Gentle honesty, he decided. “Sometimes it does. But it’s getting better.”

Madelynn nodded earnestly and said, “Well, maybe Mommy can give you a kiss. I always feel better when Mommy gives me a kiss.” She glanced expectantly over her shoulder at Tara.

Mike’s mouth quirked up in a quick smile before he could stop it, but by the time Madelynn turned back around, he was all seriousness once more.

“Maddie, honey,” Tara began.

“Mommy, don’t you want Michael to feel better?”

Tara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Michael grinned, watching her struggle. It shouldn’t be this hard, though. For God’s sake, less than an hour ago she’d been riding him like there was no tomorrow. What was wrong with a little kiss now? But he knew what was wrong with it. This time Madelynn was watching. And no matter how innocent the kiss was, Madelynn would interpret it as caring, and a bond between the three of them would form in her mind. Since Mike was going to be there from now on, the bond in Maddie’s mind would be fine. After all, it was just a kiss. Tara visibly steadied herself, moved forward, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. The scent that was so inherently Tara overwhelmed him. She kept it brief, though, giving him a light peck before she stood quickly and backed away.

“Well I feel better already.” Mike’s voice was deep, much deeper than he’d intended, as he grinned at Madelynn. Satisfied, Madelynn spun in a quick circle and wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck quickly.

“See!” she cried. “I told you!”

Tara cleared her throat and stopped Maddie’s spinning. “Would you like to watch some TV, Maddie? Maybe there are some Christmas specials on.”

“That’s a great idea!” Mike exclaimed. “Hop up on the bed, kiddo, and I’ll see if I can find Charlie Brown or Frosty.”

Grabbing the remote from the bedside table, he quickly flipped through the channels until Charlie Brown’s image filled the screen.

By the time dinner rolled around, they’d watched Charlie Brown, a SpongeBob special, and Rudolph. Madelynn was beginning to get grumpy, a sure sign that it was time to eat. They decided to stick with the hospital cafeteria since the number of open restaurants was limited on Christmas day. The selection was much the same as lunch, so they decided to bypass the holiday leftovers and head to the grill for burgers. Since there were fewer people eating than at lunch, they sat at a table in a corner to eat their meal.

Madelynn was restless throughout and insisted several times that she wanted to go play Guess Who again before they left. Tara rubbed her temple and explained, “She’s not used to being cooped up inside all the time. I think spending most of today sitting around is getting to her.” She smiled apologetically at Mike.

He shrugged and said, “So why not let her go?” He glanced at his watch and said, “It’s only 1830. The day care is open another two and a half hours. She could play for a while.”

Madelynn perked up and gazed up at Mike, clear adoration in her eyes. He smiled and winked at her.

Tara pressed her fingers against her eyes and took a deep breath. Mike watched her carefully, well aware of Tara’s reasons for wanting Madelynn to stay.
Because the last time our walking, talking birth control wasn’t around, I fucked you on my hospital bed.

“Tara?”

She opened her eyes to a narrow slit and glared at him.

Mike frowned a little at her expression and said, “Is it okay if Maddie plays in the daycare center for a while?”

She smiled brightly at Madelynn. “Sure, honey. You can play for a while.”

Madelynn grinned, bounced a little, and shoved her plate away, proclaiming she was finished.

Chapter 16

And so it was, Tara mused later, that she ended up alone with Michael in his room again. They sat awkwardly, he in his bed and she at the table, avoiding making eye contact, alternately watching the weather channel and local news. Michael kept shooting her sideways glances, until finally, with a sigh, he muted the television and turned to her.

He stared at her in silence until Tara couldn’t stand it any longer and turned to look at him.

“Are we just gonna sit here and avoid making eye contact?” He raised one eyebrow, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a mocking smile.

Tara suppressed the simultaneous urges to slap him and kiss him. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

Michael sighed and put the remote on the table. “Come here.”

“I’m right here, Michael.” She couldn’t get that close to him again. It was too risky.

“No,” he said, motioning her closer, “I mean come over here.”

Tara narrowed her eyes and glared at him.
Uh-huh. No way.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“For shit’s sake, Tara, I’m not going to rape you. All you’d have to do anyway is run. Jesus, just…come here, okay?”

Tara stood and cautiously moved toward the bed despite her brain screaming at her to stop. Michael patted an empty spot beside him and said, “Sit.”

She hesitated for a brief moment, warring with herself, before finally sitting. The blanket she’d given him for Christmas covered the bed, and she plucked absently at the fuzz.

“Tara.” Michael cupped her chin, his touch light, and Tara lifted her eyes to meet his. “Don’t move, okay? I just want to kiss you.”

She froze, her eyes widening. This was
not
a good idea, but Tara couldn’t find the strength to move. Michael slowly slid closer, trying not to startle her, until he was close enough to lean forward and press his lips to hers.

When his tongue gently probed her lips for entrance, Tara exhaled sharply and gave up fighting it.

What the hell?
she thought.
I already had sex with him. Might as well enjoy a kiss…

Michael framed her face with his hands and slipped his fingers into her hair. When Tara slid her tongue along his, a strangled moan vibrated in his chest. He pulled away abruptly and rested his forehead against hers.

“Jesus, Tara. Do you know what you do to me? See…” Michael pulled her hand down to the fly of his jeans and rubbed her palm against his erection.