A vet involved in smuggling?
Dom Rockett?
Why would Rockett be in a taquería with a group of young girls?
One of whom now lay dead in our cooler.
IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON WHEN Slidell dropped me back at the MCME. My ankle was kicking up, so at five I gathered what correspondence I hadn’t gotten through along with my copies of the files on Creach and Majerick and headed home.
Pleasant surprise. Pete had returned Birdie. The cat met me at the door, wound my legs, then positioned himself for the stare-down bit.
Though it was early, I fed him. What the hell? I hadn’t seen him in almost two weeks.
I watched the cat eat, then we both went to the study for some quality time on the sofa. I rubbed his ears. He purred. I scratched the base of his spine. He raised his tail and arched his back in approval.
My eyelids grew heavy. I yawned. Swung my feet up and laid my head on the armrest. The cat curled on my chest.
The landline rang. Softly. Too softly.
I rose and got the handset from the desk. Not seated squarely in its charger, the thing was dead.
Cursing, I positioned it properly, trudged up to the bedroom, and brought that handset down. The little screen identified the caller as Pete. Certain he’d try again, I lay back down. Birdie recurled on my chest.
Moments later the ring came again, this time at full volume.
“Mm.”
“Welcome home, sugarbritches.”
“What do you need?” Groggy. And fighting pulmonary compression caused by fifteen pounds of cat.
“Well, that’s a fine thank-you.”
“Thank you.”
“You are graciously welcome.”
“I mean it, Pete. Thanks.”
“My pleasure. The little guy’s not bad company.”
“Mm.”
“Are you napping, princess?”
“Jet lag.”
“You claim to never get jet lag.”
“I never get jet lag.”
“Here’s something to snap you awake. I just had a call from Hunter Gross. The Article 32 investigating officer has recommended that charges be dropped.”
“That’s great.” Yawning.
“Did you hear what I said? John Gross is going to be cleared.”
“I figured the hearing would go his way.”
“You don’t exactly sound over the moon.”
“I’m happy for him.”
“Of course, his career’s probably in the toilet.”
“Really?”
“Hell, what do I know?”
“Gross is one squared-away guy,” I said.
“Imagine the stress he was feeling.”
Pete was right. On two levels. Yes, I wasn’t exactly over the moon. Somehow Gross had rubbed me wrong. Too cocky. Too tightly wound. And, yes, the pressure must have been dreadful. Especially for someone with his psychological makeup.
“Glad I could do my part,” I said.
“You know you’re famous.”
“What?” That got me upright. To Birdie’s annoyance.
“Google your name and Stars and Stripes.”
“The military newspaper?”
“No. Old Glory.”
I put Pete on speaker and set the handset on the cushion. Then I dug out and booted my laptop, followed his suggestion, and clicked on the link that came up.
FORENSIC EXPERT TESTIFIES ON BEHALF OF ACCUSED MARINE
The whole story was there. My name, as promised.
Dr. Temperance Brennan, working with NCIS, traveled to Afghanistan and performed dual exhumations and provided key testimony at the Article 32 hearing at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina . . .
I read no further. Two press mentions in a week. So much for keeping a low profile.
I snapped the computer shut.
“Hello-o.”
I snatched up the phone. “Is Gross’s attorney responsible for this?”
“Weren’t journalists present at the hearing?”
“Could have been. There were a couple of spectators.” Petulant.
“Come on. You saved the guy’s ass. Enjoy the glory.”
I rolled my eyes. Wasted, since Pete couldn’t see me.
A few beats, then, “Did you leave a PC on my desk?”
“I did. It’s acting sluggish, so I’m running a virus check.”
“Have you considered the fact that the thing’s an antique?”
“I only use it for personal e-mail. All my files are on the firm’s system.”
“Go crazy, Pete. Buy a new one.”
“Maybe.”
“Why here? Why can’t you run your virus check at home?”
“Summer has every outlet tied up.”
“What? She cooking meth?” That image brought a smile to my lips.
“She’s charging some kind of weird little lights for the wedding reception. Must be a billion.”
“Did you hang out at my place while I was gone?”