Chapter 8 - The Empty Apartment
Mara didn't go searching for Angela Brooks on her own. She forwarded the relevant concerns to the appropriate investigative contacts and asked for guidance. Then she drove to Owen's apartment on a permitted evening off, with a bad feeling she couldn't explain.
Owen opened the door on his crutches. A saucepan sat on the stove, and the place smelled of tomato soup.
“You look terrible,” he said.
“Thanks. You're a delight.”
He hugged her carefully, avoiding her scraped arm.
On the kitchen table was a stack of letters. Some came from the Department of Veterans Affairs. Others bore Harbor Shield's blue lighthouse logo.
“Why didn't you tell me they'd been charging you?” Mara asked.
“Because you were overseas when it started. Because I wanted one problem I could solve myself.”
“How much?”
Owen looked away. “Almost three thousand.”
Mara sat down slowly. Her brother had once been able to outrun her; now he counted the steps between bed and kitchen on bad days.
“Did they guarantee they'd get your appeal approved?”
“They said their donors had connections. Then they kept moving the deadline.”
He pulled a letter from the stack. It threatened to close his “priority case” unless he paid another fee.
“I felt stupid,” he said.
“You were looking for help. That doesn't give them the right to mislead you.”
A knock sounded.
Owen looked toward the door. “I didn't order anything.”
Mara stood to one side as he checked the peephole. Nobody waited outside.
When he opened the door, a thick envelope lay on the mat. It contained a printed photograph of Mara on the cafeteria floor, taken from above.
Across the back someone had written: SHE CAN FALL HARDER.
Owen stared at it. “What the hell is this?”
Mara took a photograph of both sides, avoided touching the writing, and called the local police nonemergency line to report a threat. She explained that she had reason to believe it related to retaliation on base.
Owen's face flushed. “You should have told me.”
“I didn't want to scare you.”
“I'm already scared. The difference is now I know why.”
May you like
Her phone lit with a missed call from an unknown number, followed by a voicemail. A woman's voice said only:
“My name is Angela Brooks. I have the piece everybody thinks was destroyed. If you want it, don't come alone.”
