“None taken.”
“So you remember the news story?” Hans asked, one eyebrow raised.
“ ‘There, but for the grace of God, go I,’ “ Norris quoted.
“I was at the crime scene,” Megan said. “George Price is my case.”
“And that’s connected to Duane?” Reggie asked. “How?”
“There are three victims, all were army, all with multiple tours, and thus far there are about ten years of overlapping enlistment. We’re trying to find any common posts or assignments.”
“It wasn’t just a random act of violence?”
“No,” Megan and Hans said simultaneously.
Hans added, “Someone is targeting specific veterans. He will kill again if we can’t figure out the connection and stop him.”
Reggie and Norris drank their drafts simultaneously. “What do you want to know?” Norris finally said. “We don’t just sit here and talk about our lives like this is Oprah’s studio.”
Megan nodded. “You probably know where Duane served.”
Reggie nodded. “He did basic at Fort Bragg.”
Megan made the note. “1982.”
“About right. If that’s what his records say, that’s probably right,” Reggie said. “He did a tour in Desert Storm.”
“Do you remember when?”
“First year-ninety. I enlisted that year, but didn’t get over there until ninety-one. He was gone by then.”
“He was in Afghanistan for a spell,” Norris said. “Went back voluntarily.”
“A lot of the guys do,” Reggie said.
“Somalia,” Norris said. “He was Delta.”
That was a revelation. Special Operations. Were Price and Perry Special Ops as well? Megan made a note to find out.
“Fort Bragg?” Hans asked.
“That’s what I said.” Norris said it in such a way that Megan was certain Norris knew for sure. There were only two or three bases the army’s elite Delta Force operated from.
“Did Duane mention either Dennis Perry or George Price to either of you?”
Reggie shook his head. “If he did, I don’t remember. But if you’re in the same unit, most guys don’t use the name your mama gave you. I was Apollo from day one.”
“Apollo?” Megan asked. “I don’t think I’ve heard a Greek god used as a nickname before.”
“Not everyone gets shot in the foot first day in basic,” Reggie said. “Fucking big-city prick never held a gun before in his life-bang-takes out my big toe.” He slipped off his shoe and showed everyone his four-toed left foot.
Norris shook his head. “He gets a kick out of that story. I still think you shot yourself in the foot.”
“Fuck you,” Reggie said in a jovial tone.
“One more question,” Megan said. “Can you remember anything Duane might have mentioned about an operation gone bad? Something that might have generated bad will?”
“Nope,” Norris said. “He took an honorable discharge in 2004. Had near twenty years, I think. Good pension, opened up the restaurant. If he had a bad op- and I sure had one or ten, we all did-he didn’t talk about it. Duane was one of the good guys. Fought for his country, didn’t whine about it, had a nice family, ran his business, and did some charity work for … what group was it Reggie?”
“An at-risk youth group. I don’t remember the name. But he’d go speak at high schools about joining the military instead of gangs or dropping out of school. There was even a write-up in the paper about him a year or so ago-nice spread, too.”
Megan thanked them for their time, got their numbers in case she or Hans had follow-up questions, and they left. Vasquez dropped them off at the hotel. Hans and Megan sat in the nearly empty restaurant before they checked in, both of them famished.
While waiting for their meals, they discussed their notes and observations, but their meals had just been served when Hans’s cell phone rang.
He excused himself and left the restaurant. Megan thought it was odd, but dug into her meal realizing she hadn’t eaten since a quick pastry at the airport as she boarded the plane before eleven. It had been another long day.
Her phone rang. It was a restricted number. “Hello,” she answered.
“Megan, J. T. Caruso.”
“Got news?”
“Price was stationed at Fort Bragg and attached to Delta Force, Special Operations.”
“I know about Delta.” She dropped her fork and grabbed her notebook. Her heart raced as she said, “The first victim was Delta out of Fort Bragg.”
J.T. continued. “Price went AWOL when his commanding officer, Lieutenant Kenneth Russo, charged him with assault and attempted murder. He hasn’t been seen since.”
“Attempted murder?”
“It was nasty and political. From what I’ve heard- and this is not public information, and the army will deny it, so it’s FYI only-five years ago, Russo was assigned an operation to extract a Taliban leader who was quietly seeing a prostitute outside Kabul. Price was assigned to his team.”
“I thought the purpose of Delta was to create teams of men who worked together and trained together, not put together randomly.”
“Generally, that’s true. I don’t know the details of this operation, I just know this was the first time Price was under Russo’s command.” He paused. “I put out a message for Kane to see if he’s familiar with either Russo or Price or that operation, but it may take him a couple days to make contact.”
Kane Rogan, one of the three Rogan partners in Rogan-Caruso, worked out of the country extensively on sensitive projects for business and governments. Megan remembered he’d done time in the military, but she had no idea in what capacity.
“I appreciate it,” Megan said.
“A few months after they returned stateside from this failed mission,” J.T. continued, “Price and Russo got into a fight in the barracks. Price supposedly pulled a knife, stabbed Russo, and ran. Russo was in surgery for a couple hours, and when he recovered, he retired.”
“And now Price is dead.”
“So is Russo.”
“What?” Megan straightened. “When?”
“Last summer. Robbery. Shot multiple times.”
“Where?”
“When he retired, he moved to Florida. I’ll email you the stats.”
“You’re incredible.”
“So I’ve been told. Do you think there’s a connection?”
“The first victim was stationed at Fort Bragg. I’m waiting to hear on the second victim. But I’m putting my money on the same background.”
“Oh, I almost forgot.”
“I doubt that.”
“Price didn’t die of a gunshot wound. They did the autopsy. He had a heart attack. He was dead or close to it when he was shot.”
“Then why shoot him?” Megan pondered.
“That’s your arena, darling. I just supply the facts. Maybe they didn’t know he was dead, or thought he might recover if someone found him quickly.”
“Would you know he was dead?”
“I’m special.”
“These killers would know.”
“If you say so.”
Megan frowned. How did it all fit together? “Thanks, J.T “
“I’ll let you know if I hear from Kane, but I don’t know if he’ll be able to shine any more light on the situation.”
“I owe you one.”
“I think we’re up to twenty-two, but who’s counting?”
“Ha.”
“Anytime, Meg. Watch your back.” He hung up.
Megan shut her cell phone. J.T. walked a fine line between legal and illegal security work, but he was her brother Matt’s closest friend. Megan didn’t know everything that had happened between J.T. and Matt, but they would move heaven and earth for each other, and that included helping her out.
Hans sat down and Megan told him everything in a rush. “We need to contact the Orlando FBI office and have them look into the circumstances of Russo’s murder. That may be the beginning. He may have been the first victim.”
“We should do that,” he said absently, and Megan said, “You didn’t hear a word I said.”