Free War Hawk: A Tucker Wayne Novel by James Rollins, Grant Blackwood Page A

the ready in case he tried anything funny. She looked to be in her late twenties, with dark red hair and freckles across her cheeks. The Doberman kept its position, only lowering its head a few inches in an aggressive posture.
    Once the door was up, Tucker lifted both hands, showing they were empty. From the corner of his eye, he noted Kane crouched in the shadow of the truck. He signaled Kane to remain hidden. He didn’t want to startle the armed woman or her companion, not before he had a chance to explain himself.
    “I have a dog, too,” Tucker warned, figuring she had likely already spotted Kane on the security camera. “Come on out, big boy. Show the lady you’re friendly.”
    Kane slunk out and joined Tucker. The shepherd’s gaze remained fixed on the other canine. Edith eyed the shepherd, plainly noting Kane’s gear. She still kept her weapon raised.
    “Military dog?” she asked.
    “Former. He did four tours in Afghanistan with me.”
    “So you’re not from Redstone?”
    He shook his head. “Just got into town. Looking for what happened to Sandy. She’s been missing for a few weeks.”
    Suspicion still shone from the woman’s narrowed eyes, from her ready stance. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
    “Sandy gave me a copy of her key,” he explained. “Said to come out here if there was ever any trouble.”
    It was a lie, but from Sandy’s caution in renting this place, he imagined Edith must have sensed Sandy was hiding something. To reinforce his claim, Tucker carefully reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the photograph Jane had shown him back at the hotel in Montana. It showed the three of them in each other’s arms. He had asked to keep it, figuring he might need to substantiate his relationship with Sandy at some point.
    He passed it to Edith, who was careful to keep her weapon from his reach.
    She glanced at the photograph, a frozen snapshot of a happier time.
    “That was taken at Fort Benning,” Tucker said. “We served together. All of us.” He motioned to Kane.
    Edith sighed, nodded, and passed him back the photo. She shifted the shotgun’s barrel to her shoulder. “Sandy’s gone missing?”
    “For about a month. I came down here to find her.” He glanced back to the storage locker. “I had hoped to find some clue here.”
    “A month ago, you say.” Her gaze grew thoughtful. “That’s about the last time I saw her myself. She came out here. Was in a big hurry. Usually she joins me and Bruce for a beer.”
    “Bruce is your husband?”
    She patted the Doberman’s flank. “Nope, somebody who’ll never cheat on me.”
    Tucker smiled, fully understanding the love in her eyes, noting how the Doberman leaned against her side, returning the affection. “How well did you know Sandy?”
    Her manner changed subtly, became guarded. Most people would have missed it, but Tucker’s empathic skills went beyond his ability to relate to his canine partner. He could guess the source of Edith’s hesitation. It likely centered on another of Sandy’s secrets, one she only let a handful of people know about, especially due to the threat of this secret to her classified clearance ranking in the past.
    “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” he said with a shrug, letting Edith know he understood and further establishing his close ties to Sandy. “It’s no longer an issue in the military.”
    “That may be true up north . . .” she mumbled sourly, but then shook her head. “I knew Sandy from a local gay bar. It’s a close-knit community down here. When she needed a place to store some stuff, she approached me. Knew I could keep a secret.”
    He nodded. By now, Kane and Bruce had approached each other, sniffing and doing the usual dance of sizing each other up. “The last time you saw Sandy, did she give you any hint of where she might be going?”
    “Said she was going to visit her mom.”
    That fits with the timeline .
    “But I could tell she was scared,” Edith said.