Free Operation Zulu Redemption--Complete Season 1 by Ronie Kendig Page A

sure his BP was up again.
    Boone hooked a right onto Countryside and aimed into a drive-thru where he ordered three sides of eggs and three sides of sausage. Before getting back on Route 7, he dug out two of each of the sides and handed the bag to Nuala. “Eat.”
    “I said—”
    “I didn’t ask.”
    Nuala huffed and took the proffered nourishment.
    In the stop-and-go insanity of the drive, Nuala drifted off. She’d situated herself so it wasn’t obvious, but he could tell by the twitch in fingers that bore the grime and dirt of her incident with the killers at the lodge that she’d fallen asleep.
    Boone was glad for the silence, glad she would get a bit of shut-eye before he delivered her back into the lions’ den with Trace and the others. The team was in a fight for their lives.
    They all knew this day was coming.
    But nobody wanted to see it.
    Sam
    Manson, Washington
    3 May – 1030 Hours
    “That’s the answer you’re giving me?”
    The deputy sheriff, a beefy guy in his own right without a trace of gray in his brown hair, sighed heavily. “Sorry, sir. We have no leads, no proof—”
    “
I’m proof!
“ Sam’s anger thumped against his pulse. “I was there. I saw it—I was shot at. What else do you need?”
    “Bullet casings, witnesses,
a suspect
…”
    “What? You want me to hand him to you?”
Bring it down. Easy. Easy
. He huffed then stretched his jaw. “What about Ashland? What about the spent casings in the house where he blew out the windows?”
    “Miss Palmieri, you mean? And there were no casings. Our forensics teams swept the place. They didn’t find anything.”
    “Bull!” Sam’s heart thundered. “I want Ashland found. I was there and she was taken. She wouldn’t have left willingly.”
Not without telling me
.
    Who was he kidding? Ashland didn’t talk to anyone about anything. She had a better vault and internal security system than Fort Knox. “What about Ashland—what are you doing to find her?”
    The deputy hesitated and glanced to the side.
    “What?” Sam’s response came out as a snarl.
    “Sir, I’m sorry.” The deputy shrugged. “I know you’re concerned, but at this point, we have no proof of kidnapping—or that she’s even missing.” Sam was not leaving this station without some information, some hint that they would do everything they could to find Ashland. To find whoever had taken a bead on them. “Call my sister—Carolyn Caliguari Jennings. She can verify that Ashland has been living there and she’s missing.”
    Another reluctant expression. “We did.”
    Sam gritted his teeth, unwilling to trust himself to open his mouth—and snap off this officer’s head. He was too used to the “we all come home” and seeing the mission completed even if it meant dying. To suffer bureaucracy when Ashland’s life hung in the balance…
    “Mrs. Jennings said she found an e-mail from Miss Palmieri stating she was going out of town.”
    Sam felt as if his veins pumped mud. She left? Of her own will—and she’d told Carolyn but not him? After what had built between them? She…
    No. No, this wasn’t right. Something was off.
    Sam pivoted and stormed out of the building, tugging out his cell. He hit Carolyn’s speed dial.
    “Hey,” came her weary greeting.
    “What e-mail? Tell me about the e-mail.” Sam slid into his black Camaro and started the engine.
    “Wha—? Oh. Yeah, I tried to call you.” She hadn’t. There were no missed calls on his phone. “It was in my spam folder.”
    “Read it.” Sam hated ordering his sister around, but he needed answers.
    “Uh…let me get to my computer.” Rustling rattled his nerves as he made his way back to the cottage. “Okay, here: ‘Hi, Carolyn. Sorry this will be late notice, but I need some time to get away. If you need to rent out the cottage, I understand. I hope to come back someday.’ ”
    “She didn’t write that.”
    “Sam—”
    “When was the last time Ashland e-mailed