"Casey, how much longer?" Jordan wailed. They'd been hiking for ages. He may be a Navy Seal/ city cop, but she was just a little lady. She was delicate!
"It's right up there," Casey Rybeck breathed softly, looking up at the top of a hill. He strode purposefully to the top and waited as Jordan dramatically staggered up and slumped to the ground.
He watched her with quiet amusement as she gathered herself. They'd been together eight months now. After all the excitement on the USS Missouri, Casey had decided that he'd need to stay around for a while and make sure Jordan didn't get in any more trouble. One thing led to another, and now they were out hiking together. She seemed to enjoy having a man who didn't just want to see her in a wet t-shirt, and she was so soft and pretty and vulnerable. He couldn't leave her now.
"You ready for lunch?" he asked as he unpacked their picnic basket. Since he was Casey Rybeck and all, it was more of a rucksack than a basket, but he had been sure to include a towel to keep the food off the ground, and he'd let Jordan make the food when she turned her nose up at his MREs.
They tucked in to a lovely meal of tuna sandwiches, store-bought potato salad, and homemade chocolate chip cookies.
"Just one for me," Jordan insisted. "I have to keep my girlish figure." She had recently landed a job on the hit game show Bring That Thing! handing out prizes and generally looking pretty, a job she was very good at.
"Isn't that just terrible?" Casey said as he ate the rest.
"What'd you bring me up here to show me, anyway?" Jordan asked when they were finished.
Casey rose and stepped forward a few paces. Jordan followed him and gasped when she found that the hill ended sharply in a cliff. She tucked into Casey, who wrapped an arm around her. Jordan gazed in awe at the beautiful scenery that stretched out before her. The grey stone of the cliff bled down into a green valley surrounded by snow-capped mountains. The sun peeked out behind one of the mountains in a glorious halo.
"It's gorgeous," Jordan whispered. Casey didn't say anything, but she was used to that.
They sat down together, and Jordan slipped her hand inside Casey's. They enjoyed the scenery and each other's company for the next few hours. They watched clouds go by, they talked (mostly Jordan), and then they just snuggled.
When the sun dipped dangerously near the horizon, Casey got to his feet.
"I should get you home," he said.
"I'm safe anywhere you are," Jordan said. Casey didn't reply, but Jordan could tell he was pleased by the way he swaggered just a little as they walked.
It had been a perfect night.
The next day, Casey got up at 5:00 sharp, as usual. He did his usual workout of 100 pushups, 50 pull-ups, and a five-mile run. As he was running, he noticed a new bakery along the road. It was a perfect opportunity to surprise Jordan with breakfast. He grabbed three plain bagels for himself and a poppy seed one for Jordan- she was so fussy about what she ate.
He ran the rest of the way to her duplex, since she only lived another two miles away. The other family had recently moved out, so until a new one came, Jordan had the run of the place. Casey jogged up her driveway, but something wasn't right. Her door was open. He was always warning her to be careful. This wasn't like her.
He set down the sack of bagels and slipped a hand into his pocket. He might have left his handgun at home, but he never went anywhere without his pocketknife. He crept toward the door and slipped inside.
To the untrained eye, there was nothing too out of the ordinary, but Casey was anything but untrained. He immediately noticed the couch pillow lying in one corner and the five scratch marks in the wallpaper by the door. Then a glint of metal caught his eye. He swept over the Jordan's coffee table and worst fears were confirmed.
Lying on the table was one of Jordan's gold stud earrings. It was weighing down a note written in stark solid letters. Casey picked up the note.
Remember August 1971, Rybeck? I do. I remember 21 years in prison. I remember waiting for the day I could hunt you down and make you pay. The time has come, friend. At first I thought I'd just kill you. Then I thought I'd kill her instead. Then I thought why not both? I'm going to kill her in front of you. And then I'm going to kill you. See you around.
Casey's hand curled into a fist, crumpling the paper. He thought back. 1971. He was a rookie cop back then. He'd only made one big bust before he joined the Navy. Just one big bust… a freelance mob hitman.
Krade.
