Maggie brought up Bobby Lee Gant’s file. “His father. Victor.”
The man’s grim visage filled the screen. Maggie had worked in law enforcement long enough to know that pure evil existed in the world. Looking at Victor Gant, she couldn’t help but get the feeling the man was intimate with all aspects of that dark force.
Will nodded and ran a hand through his short-cropped black hair. “The biker guy.”
“Right.” As she studied Will, Maggie knew he was tired and struggling. Even without her degrees in psychology and years of profiling suspects and victims, she would have known that.
“You could have called me,” Will said. He was a little over six feet tall and rugged looking. He was bigger than Remy Gautreau but nowhere near as developed as Shel McHenry. His green eyes looked bloodshot. He was tan from the sun and the sea, and he wore the Navy like it was a part of him. During the last few months he’d been out sailing with his kids on the weekends every chance they’d gotten.
“You were with Steven and Wren, and it’s Father’s Day,” Maggie said. “I wasn’t going to interrupt you. It’s just a quick look-see. If it doesn’t feel right, Shel and Remy will shadow Bobby Lee and wait till we can get someone there. They know the drill.”
Will watched the coffee drip into the glass pot. “Bobby Lee’s elevator doesn’t go quite to the top.”
Maggie smiled. “That sounds like something Shel would say.”
“That’s because it is something Shel said. And he said it because Bobby Lee is dangerous.”
“Shel and Remy can handle themselves. There’s no sense in sending three men on a two-man job. Shel could probably collar Bobby Lee himself.” Besides, Maggie thought, you needed the time with your kids. But she knew better than to tell Will that. He already felt torn in different directions enough by the job and his family. Getting that balance right had always been a struggle for him.
“How far out are they?”
Maggie brought up her GPS program and entered the ID designation for Shel’s Jeep. It took only a second to locate the vehicle and mark its position. “They’re in Charlotte now. It shouldn’t be long.”
Will took a fresh cup of coffee. “When you know something…”
“You’ll be my first call.”
›› 1915 Hours
Will stood in his office and peered out the window. The camp was still light enough that he could easily see the surrounding grounds. Everything was green and full. He knew if he opened the window he’d be able to smell the ocean.
Maybe I should have gone fishing, he thought. But he knew that wouldn’t have helped his mood. If anything, it would have made the situation worse.
“Trying to hypnotize that window?”
Refocusing on the glass, Will saw Maggie’s reflection as she leaned in the doorway behind him. She was petite, a handful of inches over five feet, with an athletic body kept taut and fit through rigorous exercise. Her dark brown hair dusted her shoulders, and she regarded him with deep hazel eyes. She wore a black skirt and a white blouse, looking like all she had to do was throw on a jacket to have dinner at one of the best restaurants in Jacksonville, the city just outside Camp Lejeune. She was intelligent and insightful and incredibly competent in the field.
“Maybe,” Will replied. “I think I’ve almost got it.”
Maggie smiled. “So how did today with Steven and Wren go?”
Will hesitated long enough to make sure he spoke in a conversational tone. “I didn’t come here to get counseling.”
“Of course you didn’t. You came here because you didn’t want to go home and sit there alone.”
Will sipped his coffee. She was right; he had been avoiding the emptiness of his living quarters.
“I have a counselor I talk to these days,” he said. Maggie had helped him get in touch with one of the people on base.
“Is it helping?”
It was the first time she’d asked. Will was a private person about a lot of things, and he was especially private about the painful things. What he was still going through-even after the divorce-hurt more than he wanted it to. And he didn’t like talking about it.
“I think so,” Will replied.
“Good.” Maggie waited, then prompted him again. “So how’s it going tonight?”
“I’m planning on talking to Doug about it next session.”
“Doug’s not here right now. A lot has changed the last month. Your ex-wife has a new husband. Steven and Wren have a new stepfather. Those are big things. And Father’s Day is a red-letter day.” Maggie shrugged. “I thought maybe you might want to talk about it.”
Will did. And he didn’t. It was a brief struggle before the balance tipped. He took a deep breath and let the air out, and some of the tension inside his chest broke.
“It’s kind of confusing actually,” he admitted.
“Because now Barbara is married again and you’re not.”
Will thought about that. “Because Barbara is married again,” he agreed. “Not because I’m not. The last thing the kids or I need right now is another stepparent involved in the mix.”
Maggie smiled. “You’re probably right. I suspect Barbara wouldn’t handle you getting married with the same grace you’ve handled her marriage.”
“The way I’ve handled it hasn’t felt very graceful.” In fact, Will sometimes felt certain that he wouldn’t have made it through the transition at all without God’s help. That closeness he felt-though at times it was still strained because of all the horrors he saw in his line of work-had gotten stronger in him. He’d learned to acknowledge God’s presence as his quiet strength.
“I think you have been,” Maggie said.
“I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
“I also suspect that her new husband-”
“Jesse,” Will said.
“-doesn’t care for the situation either.”
“Probably not.”
“He’s not a kid person,” Maggie said, “so having them around is…” She paused, searching for the right, technically inoffensive term.
“Inconvenient,” Will said.
“Having to share them with you is more than inconvenient to him,” Maggie said. “I’ve seen his type. He likes to be top dog. He wants it to all be about him.”
Will looked at Maggie then. “You haven’t mentioned this before,” he said.
“It’s because I mind my own business.”
Will cocked an eyebrow. “But here you are in my office.”
Maggie smiled guilelessly. “Yes.”
Will gestured to a seat across from his desk. Maggie slid into it and sat attentively.
“So now you don’t have any more questions?” Will asked.
“You know what you want to talk about more than I do,” Maggie replied. “A good counselor only leads a conversation when that isn’t the case.”
Will hesitated for a moment and wondered if talking at all was a mistake. But he felt the need to. Today had been harder than he’d expected. Taking Steven and Wren back to be with their new “dad” for part of Father’s Day hadn’t been easy.
“You’re right about Jesse,” he said. “He does want it to be all about him.” Will shook his head. “I honestly don’t know what Barbara sees in him.”
“He’s always home. He’s always around. It’s all about him, and he wants to be there so it can be all about him.” Maggie shrugged. “It’s not rocket science. Barbara wanted a man who was home.”
“And I wasn’t.”
“Not enough for her, no. But the work you were doing with the Navy was important, Will. Never forget that. Military careers are hard on everybody. You went through the same things that she did, and you got to see your children a lot less.”
That had been one of the things Will had sought to redress after taking the NCIS posting.
“Not everybody can do what you and those other men do on a daily basis.”
“She blamed me.”
“She blamed your job. You just got caught up in the fallout. Jesse wants home to be all about him. So he’s there. By default, even though it’s not exactly for the right reasons, his desire meets Barbara’s needs.”
“He didn’t like it that Steven and Wren were with me most of today. And he didn’t like it when they called and asked him if they could stay the night and come back tomorrow.”