Chapter 1
It had been a god awful week. Janet was dead. She could barely think the words never mind say them aloud. They went in hot for rescue and recovery but came back with a few limping, two on stretchers and one in a body bag. Her friend, so vibrant and alive, witty and caring, a mother and a professional, was dead. And she felt the broken pieces of her heart grind against one another as she thought that it could have been Jack; it could have been the colonel. When she saw him go down time stopped and forgetting discipline and training she ran to him. She was a mess. Coming back to the base still pumped with adrenalin, not knowing if the colonel would regain consciousness or even live, she had a camera shoved in her face to record her pain. The insensitive asshole, she wanted to ram the camera down his throat. The need to strike out was almost overwhelming and the bitter tears only added to her anger.
Sam didn't leave the base until she knew the colonel was up and about. Swamped with debriefings and second guessing, grief and recriminations, the days went by in a sea of black coffee and bile. When she heard he was well enough to go home she went to see him and all the pain and fear leaked through her defenses. She cried in his arms and when she thought about it later, she had given him as much comfort as he gave her. He had held her not only comforting her grief, not only reveling in the fact that he was still alive and knowing she was glad of it, but he was glad that she, too, was spared death. If any thing had happened to her, he would have suffered more than any physical wound could cause. In his arms with his face snugged against her and his lips on her neck she had no doubts.
Pete needed a stamp. He had driven over to Sam's hoping she had remembered their plans but it seemed, as usual, she was running late. He had called her cell but it went straight to voice mail so he stopped calling. He knew where the spare key was hidden and let himself in – well he needed a pit stop but had driven straight through in hopes of a sweet weekend. He had grabbed his mail when he had picked up his over night bag and leafed through it while waiting. He had two overdue notices. Life as a detective was sometimes chaotic which was one of the reasons he thought he and Sam were a good mix, they understood that time was not always their own. Speaking of which, where the hell was she? He tried not to worry. He knew that things could get dicey; hadn't he seen that with his own two eyes. But more than likely he was being stood up for some science project. That was a blow to his ego, but better that than the alternative. Anyway he needed to send in the payments before they wound up docking his pay or a collection agent came knocking. Maybe when Sam got in and they were both dually satisfied, he thought with a grin and mild arousal, she could show him how to pay these things on line. He wasn't computer savvy and any reason to have Sam hovering was worth a lesson in boredom.
So Pete riffled through her desk in her home office to find a stamp. What he found in the top drawer confused him. It looked rather legal, signed and notarized. It was a DNR and burial instructions and a last will and testament for a John J. O'Neill, Colonel, USAF. What the fuck, why was that old bastard dumping something like that on Sam? Didn't the old crank have any friends? Why did he put Sam in such a position when he croaked? He was so rapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice Sam standing there glaring at him.
"What are you doing?"
"Hey,
babe, you home. Just looking for a stamp…got any?
By
the way what the hell is this about? You his keeper too?"
Sam took the papers from Pete's hands put them back it the drawer and slammed it shut. "The stamps are in the kitchen. Everything in here is work related and while not classified I'd prefer you didn't mess with it."
Case closed and she didn't say another word about the papers. Pete was still curious but one look at her face and he knew when to withdraw gracefully.
"My friend Janet died."
"Oh honey, I'm so sorry."
"Three days ago, I guess I should be over it by now."
Tears filled her eyes again and Pete took her in his arms. It wasn't the same and she had the urge to push him away. She refused to give in, dried her tears and told him she would be fine. They ordered in, watched a movie or was it some mindless crap on TV, she had no idea. Off to bed, she curled into herself, hugging the pain of the week close, her back to Pete. He thought just being there would be a comfort but she seemed so cold and independent he wondered if he should just go back home. Maybe time was needed for her to begin to rely on him and so he stayed.
The next morning he woke to find her side of the bed empty and when he looked for her he found the desk drawer open the those legal papers gone.
