Free An Unlawful Order (The Chase Anderson Series) by Carver Greene

coffee grounds, and herbal tea bags. But she couldn’t find the dog tags. She began from the top again, sifting past each nasty item to the bottom. Nope. She checked the bottom of the bag for holes, and finding the bag intact, shook it hard, listeningfor the rattle of metal. Nothing.
    “I’m hungry,” Molly said, startling Chase into a half-scream.
    “You scared me half to death, Molly,” she said angrily, immediately regretting it.
    “I’m sorry,” the child whispered. “Did you lose something, Mommy?”
    “Yes,” Chase said, and sighed. There was only one explanation: the dog tags had to be in another bag. She considered pulling out the others, but Molly was standing there in the doorway, hungry, and smarting from her mother’s harsh tone. She gave up the search. After all, why should it matter now? Because returning them was a chance at redemption with Kitty? “Go wash up, honey,” she said and smiled at her daughter. “I’ll be right there.” She tied up the trash bag and carried itback to the end of the driveway.
    That night, Chase lay in the king-sized bed, staring at the whirling ceiling fan. She replayed the day in her mind—the strange confrontation with Shapiro and White’s mistress and the strange visit from Figueredo. What she hadn’t given much thought to until now was the news of Major O’Donnell’s suicide attempt. O’Donnell had been one of White’s golfing buddies. Had O’Donnell been so overcome with grief that he tried to end his life as well?
    The image of Shapiro’s shocked expression when she trumped him by naming his source as White’s mistress flashed through her mind. What if she were wrong about that? Had she just given Shapiro ammunition for astory, a detail he would attribute to Chase? She could lose her job over such a foolish slip.
    Now she felt sick. Physically sick. Pain was shooting up the back of her head. She was on the verge of another migraine. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her chest was pounding; her heart racing. She was sweating. She hadn’t had but one migraine since Stone’s death, and he’d always known what to do for her.
    When the overhead light flooded the bedroom, she groaned. Molly was standing in the doorway. “Mommy?” she whimpered, “Can I sleep with you?”
    “The light, sweetheart, please turn off the light.” Thankfully, the room went dark. She heard Molly scamper across the floor. Chase groaned when the bed jolted. Thechild’s face, now inches from Chase’s, looked concerned. “Are you okay, Mommy?”
    “Mommy has a really bad headache, honey.”
    “I know how to help, Mommy,” she said, and softly, hypnotically, traced the lines of Chase’s eyebrows, something Chase often did for Molly to help her fall asleep.

CHAPTER 6
    I n her office the next morning, she was overlooking Cruise’s newspaper layouts when the private telephone line buzzed.
    “Captain Anderson?” It was Paul Shapiro.
    “How did you get my private number?” She was furious, and she hoped her tone indicated so.
    “Silvers gave it to me a year ago. I was guessing you guys hadn’t bothered to change it.”
    “From now on—”
    Shapiro interrupted. “Look, I need to see you. Can we meet somewhere off base?”
    “Why?”
    “I’d rather not say over the phone.”
    “Paul, cut the Deep Throat act. What do you want?”
    “Honest, Captain Anderson,” he said, “I can’t say over the phone.” His voice waspleading with a tone that hinted her whole world was about to change, like the day she’d received the news about Stone’s crash and no one would tell her whether or not he’d survived until she arrived aboard the Navy ship and saw the chaplain walking toward her.
    “Look, Paul,” she said, “I can’t tell you anything about Saturday’s crash, if that’s what you’re after. Not until the investigation has been completed. And if this has to do with something other than the crash, you need to put it in writing and send