10. CAREFUL OF THE BEAR

As Jane and Lisbon made their way back to the station, he told her what he had been mulling over since the first time he had seen the photograph on the Acer mantel. With the picture committed to his cell phone, he'd had ample time to check out the finer points.

"Ruth Acer said that they all didn't make it back alive from that mission—their last before returning home. We need to find out who didn't make it back, and if they had lost any other men. And I hope Grace has made some progress on IDs."

He paused, thinking to himself.

"And if she has . . . ?" Lisbon prompted him to continue.

"Acer and his unit went on eight classified missions. If they crossed enemy lines without ID, including their wedding rings, we can assume they traveled light and were gone for days, maybe weeks."

"Ok?"

"If the seven missions previous were successful and everyone made it back alive, what happened on this last mission?"

"Maybe things just happened. Or maybe they got careless. It doesn't necessarily mean anything."

"Then why were they smiling, and why were their packs, including an extra duffel still stuffed full?"

Now Lisbon was mulling. He left her to it, knowing it would only be a matter of seconds. Her brow furrowed as her thoughts came together.

"You're saying they came out with more than they went in with—or at least no less. That any deaths in the unit could be tied to what was in their packs?"

"Bingo. Now, what do we do about it?"

"Nothing."

He couldn't believe his ears. This wasn't like her. Lisbon worried each detail of each case to a nub. He wanted to remind her why they were there, but he knew that saying it would hurt her. He knew the thought that there may be no justice for Tina Landry was already causing her pain. He could see it in her eyes as she explained.

"Jane, their missions were classified. The military is like a private club, only more private. There's no way we can go to them and expect any answers. They just won't give. We work the case. We work Tina Landry's murder, and that's it."

Lisbon saw a dangerous thought pass through Jane's mind.

"Don't even think about it. This bear is too big to poke, and I won't be able to bring you a blueberry muffin in a military prison."

When he didn't reply, she pulled the SUV over, slid the gearshift into park and sat just looking at him. He looked at her, his eyes went wide and innocent and he raised his hands, palms out in a gesture of surrender.

"What? Classified missions. Big bear. No poking. I get it."

She closed her eyes and, pinching the bridge of her nose, whined at him, "Jane."

He reached across the console and pulled her hand down, and reflexively she opened her eyes and looked at him.

"I promise. I won't poke the bear or do anything that would remotely land me in a military prison."

"You promise?"

"Yes, Lisbon, I promise."

She looked at him a long moment. He saw something pass through her eyes. She was afraid for him. Afraid of where his recklessness might land him. Wanting her to remember how far he had come, how far they had come, he squeezed the hand he was still holding. Satisfied, she pulled away and drove back out onto the road. He looked down at his hand for a moment flexing his fingers, remembering the feel of her hand in his.

"We've got a much smaller bear we can poke."

Lisbon groaned.

"A baby bear really. A really, really little baby bear."

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Back at the station, Grace was about to come out of her skin. Richard Acer had been part of a unit of soldiers that were from Bishop and the surrounding area. The men had joined the military ten years before the Gulf War. Two had remained on active duty, and the other ten had served four years then been reactivated and sent to Kuwait in 1990. When Lisbon entered the makeshift office, Van Pelt all but pounced on her boss.

"I found them."

"Found who?"

"All of them. All of the men in the photograph. Some of them have passed away, but all except one are all living in the area. The farthest is about an hour's drive from here."

"Show me everything."

Van Pelt laid the photograph on a desk in front of the senior agent and pointed to each face as she identified it.

"This is Captain Ben Williams. He was career military, killed in a roadside bombing in Iraq in 2004, one year before he was due to retire with twenty-five years of service. He was awarded the purple heart and three bronze stars, one of them posthumously.

"This is Captain Tom Haines. Also career military. Retired in 2005, died of lung cancer in 2007."

"Are any of them still living besides Acer and Woolsey?" Rigsby had moved, with Cho, to stand next to Grace as she explained the information she had gathered.

"These three are dead." She pointed to them each in turn. "Carl Bender was killed in a hunting accident in 1998, Frank Schuller drowned in a boating accident off the California coast in 2001, and Terry Wheats committed suicide in 1993."

"Suicide? Less than two years after they came home?" Lisbon asked.

"Yes. The others, besides Major Richard Acer and Lieutenant Carl Woolsey are former Sergeant Arthur Bowles, Corporal Sean McNamara and Private Aaron Cook. Cook is serving fifteen years on a DUI vehicular homicide charge. Bowles lives in Oasis, a little town just this side of the Nevada state line. Operates a dive there called the "Last Ditch". McNamara lives in Deep Springs, on the way to Oasis."

"Cho, you and Rigsby take McNamara. Jane, you're with me. Grace, would you mind—"

"No problem, Boss. I'll be glad to watch him. I'm still waiting on some more information anyway."

Lisbon started to express her thanks when she suddenly swiveled her head around to face Jane and tilted her head, her eyes light with realization.

"Woolsey. I forgot all about Carl Woolsey."

"Yep. Our very own baby bear."

"Van Pelt, call Hightower. Tell her what we've found since our last report. Ask her to send someone to question Carl Woolsey on his unit's activities in the Gulf War. And we need to know how closely they've all stayed in contact."

"On it, Boss."

Lisbon nodded and turned to leave, feeling more than seeing that Jane wasn't following her. She pivoted to look back at where he remained in place with one fist planted on his hip and the other raised to his mouth as he stood in thought.

"Jane!" She tried to hurry him along. He looked at her as if to beg her indulgence. When she relaxed, he turned to Van Pelt.

"Grace, you've accounted for everyone in the picture. Ruth Acer said some of the unit didn't make it back alive. Can you find out who those men were?"

"That's what I'm waiting on. The army's giving me the run around, but I've got a call in to a friend in their records division. Just waiting to hear from him."

"Excellent." Jane moved toward Lisbon and the door, saying over his shoulder, "When you get the information, call me."

"No, Van Pelt, when you get the information, call me."

Hearing the exasperation in her voice, he motioned vaguely toward Lisbon as he walked past her, still looking at Grace.

"Yes . . . what she said. Her—call her."

Lisbon rolled her eyes and followed him out, her chiding wafting back into the office through the closing door. Grace smiled at the baby and winked when he gurgled back at her.