Free Turn or Burn by Boo Walker Page A

were?”
    “Oh, I’m not really supposed to talk about it.”
    “C’mon, now. I’m just curious. Ted Simpson was a good friend. And the finest soldier I’ve ever known.”
    “I believe you, but…”
    “So I’m asking you to give me a few details to tell his parents over on Bainbridge Island when I go see them later today. I was there when his brother was killed, too. The information will not go beyond that. What happened in there?”
    “I really don’t know much,” he replied.
    I leaned in closer. “Anything will help. They will want to know.”
    “Don’t get me in trouble.”
    “I will not.”
    He sighed, giving in. “I don’t know their names. But I saw the bodies. The medical examiner found the same branding on both of them. Not sure what it was. No one is.”
    I had a quick flashback of seeing that mark on the woman’s stomach. “Yeah,” I said. “I saw it on one of them. You got a picture of it you could send me?”
    “No, sir.”
    “Don’t call me ‘sir.’ ”
    “Okay. One of them had a piece of paper in her pocket, too. You didn’t hear it from me, but it said Forgive me .”
    “Whose pocket did they find that in?”
    “No idea.”
    “How’d they get the guns in there?”
    “C’mon. I can’t tell you this stuff.”
    “Just tell me how they got the guns in there. I want to know how my friend died. If you can’t trust a Special Forces soldier, then we should all give up now. Give me a break. Your leader over there will never know.”
    The officer looked around, making sure his superiors weren’t nearby. “One of the guys working the security line helped them out. I don’t know the details…they’re holding him now. But it sounds like someone took his family hostage and forced him to get a bag to the two girls. That’s really all I know. We just got word about this a few minutes ago.”
    That caught me off guard.
    “That’s all I can tell you,” he finished. “Now, I really need for you to tell me what happened.”
    I spent the next ten minutes giving the young officer the details. Francesca was waiting for me when we finished, and we found Detective Jacobs on the way out. “We’re going to take off,” I told him.
    “All right. Don’t go too far. I may want to talk to you again.”
    “We’ll be in town. In the state, at least. Has anyone gotten ahold of Ted Simpson’s family yet?”
    “Not yet.”
    “We’re going to see them now. We’ll take care of it. Please keep his name out of the news for the rest of the afternoon.”
    “10-4.”

CHAPTER 13
    We barely made the 5 p.m. ferry to Bainbridge Island. I drove the SUV on board, pulled the emergency brake, cut the engine, and rolled down the windows. The air was chilly. We were near the front of the boat on the starboard side, and we both watched the water and mountains beyond as the ferry pulled away from downtown. The sun was resting just above the sharp peaks of the Olympics that rose from the horizon like jagged walls protecting the Puget Sound.
    But I didn’t feel protected. Out of nowhere, the realization of Ted Simpson’s death hit me like a club to the face. Any feelings of loss I had experienced before that moment were completely superficial. What started to come over me was horrifying. My stomach and chest cinched up, like someone had their hands inside of me, squeezing and twisting. I couldn’t even take a breath. Images of his dead body permeated my visual cortex. With what little air I had, I said, “I’ll be right back,” and got out of the car.
    Bent over, my hand gripping my chest, I made my way down the length of cars. I was light-headed and dizzy, and the cars around me began to spin. I started to fall, but I caught myself, placing my hand on a car hood.
    The driver poked his head out the window. “Hey, man. You all right?”
    I focused long enough to say, “Yes. Just feeling a little seasick.” Then I kept moving, making sure I was far enough from the SUV. Once I knew Francesca