Every Tom Dick and Crazy
Chapter 9
Harm tried inconspicuously to glance in Mac's direction as she studied the file in front of her. She and Meg had silently traded folders as Lt. Philips updated them on the pub interviews. He had no reason to be concerned over her reaction. She was an outstanding investigator and superior officer, yet the idea of exposing 'his wife' to such gruesome photos brought out all the protective instincts he had.
Mac tried to interject as little as possible. She didn't see any reason to ruffle Sherlock Holmes' feathers anymore. Yet.
"Not a single person at either location remembers seeing or hearing anything over in Whitechapel. Some of the regulars were perfectly happy to fill us in on all the gossip, but not a single one had heard anything helpful. We even returned to Whitechapel after Kensington to catch the night crowd. No one saw any unusual cars or people lurking about after midnight. The bodies just appeared." Mary was trying not to let her frustrations show.
"What about Kensington?" Meg asked, her nose still in the files.
"The bartender remembers Corporal Jenkins. She and her boyfriend were regulars. He still is."
"Does he have a new girlfriend?" Mac interjected.
"No. So far he stops in for a beer after work and then goes home alone. Everyone says he's taking this pretty hard."
"What about her? Any chance she was two timing him?" Meg looked up at Mary. So far, she seemed on her game. Meg could see what Harm saw in her.
"Unlikely. According to a few of the regulars, she often had guys hitting on her if she was waiting for her boyfriend. Even the night he was called back to duty. She stayed to finish dinner and had to turn away a handful of guys. She did stay around and have a beer at the bar and chatted nicely with a few people, but she went home alone."
"Or at least she thought she did," Baskin mumbled, still a little out of sorts from having been put in his place.
"Yeah. We got the names of a couple of the regulars who conversed with her. Two were there last night. Nothing out of the ordinary there."
"We ran their names through the system this morning. Nothing of any interest resulted on any of them," Baskin added. "We've had a sketch artist provide us with drawings based on the customer descriptions of the others. We will be passing copies of the sketches around Kensington later today. Hopefully someone will recognize the non-regulars who interacted with her."
"Very well." Harm stood up. "I'll expect regular updates on your progress."
"Yes, sir." Mary stood at attention. "Ma'am," she nodded to Mac.
"Lieutenant," Mac smiled.
"Nice meeting you, Mac," Meg added.
"Same here, Meg."
"Shall we get started, Lieutenant?" Meg turned to Mary.
"Yes, Ma'am." Mary turned towards the door amused at the virtually monosyllabic conversations consisting of names only. Interesting.
"Sir." Meg silently requested permission to leave.
"That will be all, Commander." Harm couldn't help but smile inwardly at Meg's little attention to formality. He also couldn't help but notice the curious way Mac was watching their interaction.
When everyone had cleared the room, leaving Harm and Mac alone, Mac turned to Harm with an impish grin.
"So Kate Pike was right?"
"About what?" Harm felt his heart sink to his stomach.
"Apparently whenever you get promoted, the Navy sees fit to give you a harem." Mac tried not to burst into laughter at Harm's immediate discomfort.
"She told you that?" Suddenly, Harm was a little disconcerted at the possibilities of what else Kate might have 'shared' with Mac. After all, she did recuse herself from the Inspector General case.
"You know, girl talk." Grabbing her purse, Mac sauntered saucily away from her husband. This whole wife thing was a lot more fun than playing the girl next door. The perks were pretty good, too."
Momentarily stunned, Harm quickly grabbed his cover and followed Mac out the door.
"James, I'll be having lunch with my wife. If anything comes up, have…"
"Lt. Philips or Commander Austin reach you on your cell. Yes, sir," Beth James responded without thinking.
"Thank you." Harm was getting better at not looking at her oddly when she anticipated what he was going to say. The eerie thing was, she'd always been right so far.
Placing his arm lightly around Mac's waist, Harm leaned over slightly and whispered, "Do you know how she does that?"
"Does what?"
"Knows what I'm going to say before I say it?"
"Harm, I can tell time, not read minds. Remember, that's what took us nine years to get here in the first place." Mac rolled her eyes, and shook her head at her husband. Such a bright man, and yet still able to remain so clueless at times.
Holding the door for Mac as they left the building, Harm shook off his concerns with Petty Officer James and moved on to a more pressing concern. "I guess Mattie isn't ready to join us for lunch yet?"
"Nope. Says she wants to take it easy. I think she's trying to give us some space."
"Is that something I should be worried about? I don't want her to think she's an intrusion."
"Nope. She's just old enough to recognize newlyweds need a little time alone, no matter how old we are," Mac stifled a giggle.
"Hmm. Just you wait till I get you home alone, marine. I'll show you who's old." Harm couldn't ever remember a time when he so looked forward to going home at the end of his day. Until now, his job had always been his first priority. Having something more important in his life than the Navy was finally filling that void he'd had in his life for so long.
Meg Austin's Office
London headquarters.
Same time
"What do you think if you and I take that sketch over to Ruislip and see if there are any sailors who fit the description. Then we can head over to Kensington and start asking a few questions?" Meg suggested, dropping the files on her empty desk, and flipping on the computer.
"You're thinking this could be a Navy man?"
"Just considering all the options. It would explain an outsider at a local pub."
"The witnesses we spoke to weren't close enough to hear the conversations or catch a name. It's possible they wouldn't have noticed if they were yanks. We weren't able to interview the bartender that was there the night of the murder. He only works Friday and Saturday nights." Mary hadn't considered the possibility it could be one of their boys. She thought she'd covered all the bases. This is probably why the Captain wanted Meg aboard. Well, if she could learn anything from her, Mary wasn't too proud to admit it.
"Pretty sparse isn't it?" Baskin interrupted, looking around the various corners of the room and ceiling.
"I just arrived from Texas a couple of hours ago. At least the computer is connected." Meg opened the desk drawers. "Looks like I'll have to requisition a few basics. Like a pen and paper." After all these years it still amazed her how little was actually ready for a lawyer when they changed commands.
"Perhaps it would be a better idea if you stayed here to get set up, and the Lieutenant and I inquire at Ruislip? She can fill you in later." Baskin wasn't too happy at having to deal with two Navy lawyers under foot, but he had to be thankful they were both very good looking, and at least one of them was single.
"That may not be a half bad idea. Check in with me after Ruislip and I'll see if I can meet you to make the rounds in Kensington. That way we'll cover more territory." Meg picked up the file folder. "I'll copy these and take a closer look."
"Aye, aye, ma'am." Mary straightened her shoulders.
"When it's just the two of us, it's Meg."
"Yes, ma'am…Meg." Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad. There was obviously a history of some sort with the Captain. If he trusted the Commander, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea for her to do the same.
RAF Ruislip
BX (Base Exchange)
"Well, I do believe we have been just about everywhere else on base. There are not that many personnel here." Baskin followed Mary down the aisle. "I thought they called military stores PX."
"That's the army. We call 'em Base Exchange, BX for short. While we're here, I just want to pick up a few things and then we'll check with Kathy. She probably has a better handle than anyone of who comes and goes on base." Mary put what she was looking for in a basket.
"Is this pounds or dollars?"
"Dollars. Why?"
"Crikey. I should have joined the military." Darrell put the item back on the shelf and pretended not to notice Mary's scolding glare. She was an awfully nice girl under the gruff military exterior, but understanding women was hard enough, throw in a yank female and the task was downright impossible.
Chapter 10
Churchill Arm's Pub
Campden St, Kensington
1930 hours
"Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?" Lt. Philips asked Meg for the third time.
"I'm amazed my feet haven't gone on strike. Aside from the fact that I'm functioning on a five hour airplane catnap, when my body hits that unavoidable proverbial brick wall, I intend to be snuggly tucked into my hotel room bed." Meg tried to hide her yawn.
"Maybe I should just accompany you home. I can eat something at my flat," Mary volunteered.
"Nonsense. I'm not far. The Navy's putting me up at the Bailey's Hotel right here in Kensington. You stay and enjoy a nice dinner. As a matter of fact eat one for me too," Meg chuckled sweetly. "We put in a good days work, even if no one recognized the faces."
"Don't forget, Kathy at the BX said that one of those photos resembled Petty Officer Harris," Mary reminded her.
"Right. We'll take a look at his record first thing in the morning. I'll see you in my office at 0800." Meg stood up lazily. Her legs were starting to feel the time change. She could already hear her bed calling to her. "Good night, Inspector, Mary."
Mary and Darrell watched Meg until her cab drove off.
"Not bad for a woman who just got off a plane from the States." Darrell seemed to be talking to himself more than to Mary.
"Yeah. No doubt that's why the Captain wanted her here. I should have known better than to think a junior officer would be assigned a case like this on her own." Mary too was voicing her thoughts aloud.
"Well, I say we did indeed put in a good days work and deserve a nice dinner. Let's put this sordid business behind us for the next couple of hours. If we see any familiar faces, we can question them after dessert." Smiling broadly, Darrell walked Mary over to the restaurant side of the Pub.
A few hours later Mary and Darrell were sitting comfortably back on the pub side of the establishment near the edge of the fireplace, nestled up as closely as the professional relationship allowed.
"It's amazing how cozy a fire can be even in summertime." Mary set her glass of wine down near the edge of the enormous hearth and began stroking the cat. "Is it a requirement that all proper British Public Houses have a mascot?" Mary made a feeble attempt at an aristocratic London accent.
"Possibly," Darrell chuckled loudly.
"Do you think we'll find him?" she asked more somberly.
"I am certainly going to try. This isn't 1888. Surely, technology will count for something. It's not as easy to hide in the woodwork as it was a hundred years ago."
"That's true, but still, we don't really have very much to go on. The standard serial profile says he's a white male between 25 and 35, probably unable to maintain a committed relationship, appears gregarious and normal on the outside, and is probably heterosexual. I actually joked with Kathy today at the BX, watch it turn out to be an over 40 lesbian with strong family ties. We have absolutely no physical evidence trail to follow."
Darrell could hear the desperation and frustration in her voice.
"There's a reason standard profiles are used as a springboard. You know as well as I do that Ted Bundy, and a string of others, fit that description to a T. We will narrow this down. With any luck, we will have at least five more weeks to figure this puzzle out and arrest him before he strikes again. We are both good at what we do. We can do this." Dropping his hand on hers without thinking, Darrell noticed for the first time just how beautiful Mary's eyes were. It was as though he were looking into the crystal Caribbean ocean on a brisk summer day. Hesitating a moment longer than circumstances warranted, his eyes remained locked on hers as he slowly drew back. "I'd better get you home."
"That won't be necessary. I can walk from here." Her eyes dropped down to where his hand had momentarily held hers.
"Yes. You most certainly could, but my British sensibilities would never let me forgive myself." Bowing at the waist, Darrell smiled impishly, hoping his charming gesture wouldn't be refused.
"You probably have a puppy dog complex and would follow me home even if I said no." Curtsying slightly, "I accept your kind gesture, sir," Mary responded in her best Scarlet O'hara, not bad for a gal from Jersey.
London Headquarters
Next day
0845
"Sir. Commander Austin would like to see you."
"Send her in." Before his finger was off the intercom, Meg was standing at his desk. "Tell me you've cracked the case already?" Harm smiled.
"Not exactly. Mary isn't here yet." Meg had gotten straight to the point, ignoring all formalities and protocol.
Harm glanced up at the clock on the wall. "What time were you supposed to meet with her?"
"Forty five minutes ago. I know it's not much, Harm, but she only lives in Kensington. I just don't have a good feeling about this."
"I know what you mean. I've had that same bad feeling from the first minute Baskin walked into my office. When did you last see her?"
"Last night. I left her and Baskin at the pub having dinner."
Harm curled one eyebrow up. If that Sherlock Holmes want-to-be had tried to pull a fast one on one of his officers, the man would live to regret it.
"Get me Baskin on the line." Harm stabbed angrily at the intercom.
"I've tried that. He's not answering his phone and his office says he got called out to a crime scene first thing this morning."
"Crime scene? Where? What?"
"They wouldn't tell me. I'm not sure exactly what they said, but I think it was the British translation of 'need to know'.
Skipping the intercom all together, Harm stormed over to the door, pulling it open with a whoosh.
"Cancel that last request. Get me Scotland Yard, I want to speak to Sir Ian Blair. Yesterday!" Slamming the door, Harm turned back towards Meg.
"Who's he?"
"You mean you don't know the UK's most senior police officer?" For a split second, a fraction of a smile tugged at Harm's lips until he remembered why he wanted to speak to the new head of Scotland Yard.
"I must have missed class that day. Out busting a bronco or something," Meg smiled. If Harm was calling in cards this early in the game, he must be more worried than she was.
A few minutes later Beth James tapped lightly on Harm's door. "Sir Ian Blair on line three, sir."
"Thank you. Close the hatch behind you."
"Sir Ian. Thank you for taking my call… Yes, yes…It was indeed… No, I'm sure my wife will agree with you…Admirably…yes… Well, yes, frankly… As you probably know two of our enlisted females have turned up slaughtered in Whitechapel… Yes, we all agree. Inspector Baskin is working the case with one of my junior officers, Lt. Mary Philips… Yes, I've heard that…Lt. Philips is one of my best as well, but at this moment she's almost an hour late for duty and 'that' is very unlike her. Yes…No, sir. He's not answering his mobile…" Harm tried not to stumble over that particular word. "Well, sir, apparently your office doesn't feel that our office needs to know… Yes, I understand… Chain of command has its issues in any man's Navy…"
Putting his hand over the mouthpiece, Harm looked at Meg. "We should know where he is in a minute. Assuming that's what 'just a tic' means."
"Yes, sir… I see…six thirty this morning… yes… yes… Thank you, and please give my regards to Mrs. Blair." Harm took a deep breath and placed the phone in its cradle.
"He's at the Black Bull Pub on Whitechapel Rd. They've found another body."
"When?"
"Six thirty this morning." Grabbing his cover, Harm directed Meg to the door.
"James, get a couple of MPs over to Lt. Philips apartment. Send Commander Perkins with them. Call all the hospitals between Kensington and here and see if anyone fitting Lt. Philips description has been admitted. Get Ensign Healy to call the local police stations. Cancel all my morning appointments, and call me on my cell the minute you hear anything."
"Yes, sir." Beth picked up the phone and began dialing without delay.
Following Harm's large stride, Meg silently thanked God for her long legs. "Where are you going?"
"With you. To Whitechapel."
Chapter 11 London Headquarters"Yes, ma'am, Colonel… No, ma'am, he didn't tell me where he was going, but he did leave with Commander Austin," Beth spoke into the phone. She had overheard him telling the Commander that he was accompanying her to Whitechapel, but wasn't sure if it was her place to reveal that much information. Until she had a better grip on the interpersonal relationship between her CO and his wife, she'd stick to minimal information.
"I see. Around what time did they leave?" Mac's mind started scrambling with possibilities.
"About an hour ago, ma'am."
"Did Lt. Philips accompany them?"
"No, ma'am." Beth paused debating with herself as to whether or not she should volunteer any further information. Remembering that the Colonel remained in the office during the debriefing yesterday, "She hasn't reported for duty today, ma'am."
"Hasn't reported?" Now, Mac understood. Harm was about to embark in his role as superman again.
"No, ma'am. I've been checking hospitals and police stations."
"Any news?"
"No, ma'am." Beth's voice dropped to a more obviously disappointed tone.
"Please tell the Captain to call me at his first available opportunity."
"Yes, ma'am. Will do."
Hanging the phone up slowly. Mac stared at the apparatus on the wall. What was going on now? She expected to have occasional pangs of missing her job and life as a Marine, but she hadn't expected anything so compelling to be nagging at her so soon.
"Who was that? You look like you just lost your best friend?" Mattie rolled up close to Mac.
"No. Just something at work." Sporting a feigned grin, Mac turned towards the other room.
"Work? I thought you're retired?" Mattie could feel the tension in the room like a thick bay fog.
"Technically, I'm on inactive reserve, but retired is easier for most people to understand, besides, you know what I meant. Harm has this really difficult case and now one of his best officers has gone UA."
"UA?"
"That's the Navy's way of saying AWOL. Unauthorized absence." Mac began nibbling on her bottom lip.
"So you're just going to sit here and worry about him for the rest of the day?"
"No. We've got an appointment with your new therapist this afternoon." Spotting that, 'I'd rather swim in a swamp' look on Mattie's face, "It's only a get to know you visit. The real work doesn't start until Monday." If nothing else, the occasional teenage attitude that popped up so far had been more cause for amusement to Mac than aggravation. She hoped it stayed that way when Mattie was up on her feet again and back to school, or worse, dating.
Noticing the odd little smile that came out of nowhere. "Did I miss something?" Mattie inquired, unsure of what Mac found amusing.
"No, just had a vision of Harm stripping down his side arm." Mac figured she'd better leave it at that. No point mentioning the mind picture included Mattie's date watching.
"Stripping down a gun?" Mattie couldn't help but wonder if retiring to stay home wasn't contributing to Mac's early senility.
"Never mind. Harm's going to be out of the office for a while and will probably skip lunch. What do you say you and I take a stroll and do a little window shopping this morning?"
"Sure. A girl can never have enough windows in her closet." Pleased to see a heartfelt grin on Mac's face, Mattie left Mac to change into something less 'casual'.
The Black Bull Pub
Whitechapel Rd
Harm was practically on his way out of the car before it had even come to a complete stop. Pausing to hold the door for Meg, his impatience to approach the scene was clear.
Glancing around at the yellow tape, Harm spotted Baskin barking orders with a zealousness he hadn't previously noticed in the young man. The crowd was gathered up close to the yellow boundaries set around the scene. In only the few moments since Harm and Meg had arrived, the number of onlookers had already obviously increased. It was worse than a circus. More like an anxious mob waiting for the guillotine to fall. For a moment he thought to allow each person in one by one to have a careful look at the latest victim. Perhaps losing their breakfast would break their enthusiasm for ambulance chasing.
Placing his hand on the small of Meg's back, the two officers moved closer to the scene, pausing only to show their ID to the policeman re-directing the crowd. As much as the man suggested everyone move on about their business, the group continued to increase in numbers.
Without meaning to, Harm stepped in front of Meg for a closer look at the body, unconsciously attempting to somehow shield her from what they might see. The moment his eyes met with Baskin's, he knew.
Steadying himself, Harm stepped around the crime scene photographer. In all the miserable situations he had found himself throughout his career, this was the first time Harm could remember the wave of sheer nausea feeling stronger than his ability for self-control. Closing his eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, Harm turned to Meg.
"Call James. Tell her we found the Lieutenant."
"I should have called you. I didn't realize how late it's gotten." Baskin looked down at his watch. He'd had no idea it had been hours since he was first called to the scene.
"How the hell did this happen?" Harm snapped.
Baskin looked up at Harm, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling.
"Meg left her with YOU. You were supposed to be watching her back!" Harm's tone was sharp, just short of shouting.
"What did you expect me to do? Chain myself to her? Or should I have just insisted she let me spend the night? I took the lady home. Saw her safely to her door. I heard the lock click behind me, and then I went home. That was around 10:30pm. What more did you want from me?" Baskin practically shouted in Harm's face.
Harm glared at the man. He'd trusted Baskin to watch her six. This shouldn't have happened.
"What have you got!" Harm snapped, barely controlling his anger at both Baskin and this lunatic on the loose.
"The ME puts the time of death somewhere between two and four this morning." Without looking up from the body, Baskin could feel the intensity of Harm's stare burning a hole through him.
"If you left her at 10:30, that leaves three or so hours before her murder," Harm almost mumbled aloud, more for himself than for Baskin.
The choice of the word 'if' hadn't escaped Baskin. The thing he didn't know was what part of the statement was Harm doubting, his ability to tell time or to tell the truth?
"It's the same MO. I've been told all her organs are intact, although she is missing the third finger on her left hand, and her genitals have been mutilated," Baskin forced himself to push on.
Harm watched the inspector struggle with the last words. He could see the waves of guilt emanating from the tired man. Did he carry the guilt of not protecting her? Or was it something more? Damn! Harm was prepared to lose people under his command, but not this way.
"Third finger of the left hand. Where you would wear a wedding ring." Again, Harm was thinking out loud.
Momentarily looking down at the finger, Baskin considered Harm's words before continuing. "The profiler was correct. The brutality is escalating. This time the victim shows signs of bruising, as though there was a beating involved." Baskin swallowed hard, not for the first time since he'd started to fill Harm in.
"That's new."
"Yes. There are no signs that she fought back, no defensive wounds, and nothing under her fingernails. Most likely she was struck after she was unconscious, but before death."
Having completed her call to headquarters, Meg had been standing beside Harm listening intently to what the inspector was reporting. Her eyes carefully scanned every inch of the area. The body was posed the same as all the others. Not enough blood to indicate the killing was done on site. This was another staged scene. Noticing something bright on the ground, off near the trashcans, Meg walked over for a closer look.
Immediately noticing Meg's purposeful stride, Harm walked away leaving Baskin in mid sentence.
"What is it?" He stepped up closely next to Meg so Baskin couldn't hear.
Meg had scooped the object onto a small piece of paper she'd pulled from her purse.
"It's from a uniform. A Navy uniform." She looked from the shiny brass button up to meet Harm's eyes.
"It could be hers. At the last scene the killer dropped the victim's dog tags." Harm tilted his head slightly, his one eyebrow raised, silently acknowledging the possibilities.
"Or we could be hunting one of our own."
"Maybe." Harm looked over to Baskin who was slow to follow, merely watching them until he noticed Meg bending down to pick something up.
"We need to bag this." Harm showed Baskin the button. "You'd better have your people carefully go through every one of these trash cans."
"For heaven's sake, don't touch anything else, and I don't need you telling me how to do my job." Baskin huffed at Harm, having caught up with him.
"Then do it!" Harm turned and walked away. Whoever is responsible for this, Harm was going to get to the bottom of it, and soon. He owed Mary Philips that much.
Chapter 12
"Where are we going now?" Meg walked briskly beside Harm, trying to keep pace with his long strides.
"We're going to walk the other scenes. Maybe we'll spot something else one of Britain's finest missed."
"You don't trust him do you?"
"Right now, I don't trust anyone. Where did you say you left Philips and Baskin last night?"
"At the Churchill Arms Pub on Campden. The place that Jenkins and her fiancé had dinner."
"I'm going to want to see the file on Jenkins' fiancé again." Harm stopped walking when they reached the alley behind the Old Dispensary Pub. "And, get me everything you can on Baskin. I want to know what brand of baby food his mother fed him."
Rabb Flat
1845 hours
Despite the temptation to stay at his office and keep pushing on this case, Harm knew he couldn't allow a pattern of putting work before home to take hold in his life. He promised himself; Mac would never come second to anything again.
"Hey. I didn't expect to see you home so soon." Mac jumped up from the sofa as soon as she heard Harm come through the door. He'd phoned her from the first pub in Whitechapel and filled her in on what had happened, and then again later from the office to say he'd be staying a little late to work with Meg.
Setting his briefcase down on the entry table, Harm stepped forward a few feet to properly greet his wife. When her arms snaked around his neck, he could feel all the tension of the day rolling away. He had spent so many years dreaming of a moment like this. Coming home from a long day and finding Mac waiting for him. The feel of her soft body against his was quickly raising his temperature, and a few other things. There was no way he would ever get enough of kissing and touching the woman he loved.
Mac had only intended to give Harm a quick kiss hello, but the moment his arms pulled her tightly against him, she was lost to the warming sensations rising through her like a tidal wave ready to crash ashore. The feel of his tongue tangling with hers, the way his fingers gently caressed the skin at the hem of her shirt, the way his strong thumbs gently skirted along the edge of her breasts, there was no way she ever wanted to be anywhere else but in the arms of Harmon Rabb.
Breathlessly pulling back, "Do you know how much I love you?" Harm dropped his forehead against Mac's.
"As much as I love you." Mac let her hands slide down from his shoulders to rest on his hard chest.
With his hands resting loosely along the side of her hips, almost breathlessly, he asked, "Where's Mattie?"
"On line in her room. Instant Messaging is a great thing for bridging the gap."
"Not as great as what I have in mind." Harm kissed the tip of Mac's nose, wiggling his eyebrows upward.
"Let's get you out of that uniform and into something more comfortable," Mac smiled back at him.
"I was hoping you'd say that." Harm kissed her temple, and leaving one arm wrapped snuggly around her waist, walked towards their room, pausing only a moment to tap on Mattie's doorway. "Hey, Kiddo. How was your day?"
"Fine." Mattie replied without looking up from her screen.
"Good, I'm going to change out of this uniform and unwind a bit." Walking with Mac to their room, he could hear Mattie calling back, "Take your time." Oh, she wouldn't have to worry about that!
Rabb Kitchen
2100 hours
Harm took another forkful of lo mein. "This is really good. Where did you say this came from?"
"Don't laugh, but a place just down the road called the 'Wok and Roll'." Mac held back a chuckle.
"Well, it's just right for a late dinner. Thanks," Harm winked.
"Were you and Meg able to find anything else at the scenes?"
"No, just that one button. If it turns out to be a sailor, this is going to be a public relations nightmare." Harm reached over and served a little sesame chicken.
"Hey, that's mine!" Mac teased.
"I'll share if you share," he grinned back.
"Deal." Mac reached over and took a bite of lo mein from Harm's plate.
"Meg thinks marriage symbolizes control to the killer and cutting off Mary's wedding ring finger is a way of taking away Mary's control."
"Third finger is also the engagement finger." Mac shrugged one shoulder at Harm before reaching over for more lo mein.
"Only one of the victims was engaged," Harm pointed out casually.
"Not now, but what about before?"
Putting his fork down, and leaning back in the chair, "I don't know. You may have something there." Harm went quickly to the hall to retrieve his briefcase. Pulling out the files, he scanned each quickly, then tossed them on the table. "Mary only inquired into their current personal lives, not their past."
"Well, her theory of E4s was just shot out of the water. Maybe this will give you something to go on. Did Bud ever talk to the other victim's family in Virginia?"
"Not yet, Cresswell sent him to do an investigation at Miramar, he should be back by Monday. I'll tell him to ask about any past engagements." Taking another bite of dinner, Harm felt hopeful for the first time in days. He wished there was someway they could work together again. They always made one hell of a team. They still did.
"Feeling better?" Mattie asked, as she made her way up to the table.
"Better?" Harm looked at her curiously.
"Well, yeah, I mean… the lieutenant's murder and all." Mattie wondered if she should have just kept her mouth shut.
"We're working on a new angle that might help." Harm didn't want to say too much. He didn't like the idea of bringing work home to his family. Mac was different, she had done this for a living, but Mattie was just a kid. "You're done talking with your friends?"
"Nah, things are just starting to get hopping. I have to wait until around four o'clock our time before most of my friends are even waking up. Anne was the only one still on line and she had to go pick her kid sister up from basketball camp. I thought I'd come check up on you two before anyone else gets on." Mattie reached over and grabbed an egg roll.
"Hungry?" Harm held the box of fried rice up for her.
"No, I ate earlier. This is just a little nosh," she grinned, and turned back to her room. "You know where to find me if you need me."
"How did it go with the therapist today?" Harm asked Mac, serving himself one of the egg rolls.
"Okay. We'll see on Monday, but they seemed to get along well. Mike is young, friendly, very energetic, and according to Mattie, 'hot'."
"Couldn't we have gotten a 'hot' woman therapist?"
"I suppose, but I suspect she may be more apt to cooperate with Mike," Mac smiled to herself. She definitely saw that nine millimeter making many an evening appearance in their future.
"If you say so, but just remember if we need to do the sex talk again, this time I'm sending her to you." By now, Harm's eyebrows had practically taken up residence by his hairline.
"Agreed, counselor."
"Good. Do you have any plans for tomorrow night?"
"Why, you got a hot date?"
"That depends. Do you have plans for tomorrow night?"
"If that's an invitation, I do now. What did you have in mind?"
"I thought it might be nice if you and I went out for dinner." Harm picked up his empty plate and carried it over to the sink.
"Anyplace in particular you'd like to go?" Mac recognized the set in Harm's shoulders. This was business.
"Yeah, the Churchill Arms Pub in Kensington."
Chapter 13
Churchill Arms Pub Friday NightHarm escorted Mac into the family pub.
"Nice," Mac commented, following Harm to the bar. Her eyes quickly scanned the layout, lingering a moment at the quaint fireplace.
"When this case is over we'll have to check out more of the local pubs. Some of these places are not only incredibly charming and ancient, they have wonderful food, and of course, great beer." Harm reached across and took hold of Mac's hand.
"What will you be having?" A tall burley man asked from behind the counter.
"I'll try your house ale and the lady will have a soda with a twist."
"Right away."
Harm watched as the man moved down the bar taking orders, returning with the two requested drinks. "Do you get many Americans in here?" Harm asked casually.
"Some, more lately. With the housing being as tight as it is, more and more of the military types are moving in around here."
"How do you know they're military types?"
"The lot of them have their hair cut short, like yours." The large man grinned, obviously proud of his conclusion.
Mac couldn't resist a slight snicker.
"It seems like a nice place. My wife and I just moved into the neighborhood. How's the food?"
"Staying for dinner?" the man smiled.
"We're thinking about it," Harm shrugged.
"You'll love it. The regulars come back for more than just a tanker of stout."
"Even the military types?"
"Even the military types. You'll find tonight's menu on the board up there." He pointed to the wall off to the side of the long bar.
"Thank you." Harm nodded, watching the man tend to his other customers.
"What exactly do you expect to find here?"
"Something. Anything. Maybe nothing. I don't know." Harm squeezed Mac's hand tightly. "I'll be right back. Let me use the head and then we'll get a table and see just how memorable the food really is."
Mac watched the crowd while she waited for Harm. There were several older men seated around the bar. She got a kick out of the way one man's black lab laid comfortably on the ground at his master's feet with one eye steady on what must be the pub cat. A large orange tabby stretched comfortably across the large hearth. Across the room was the smaller eating area, obviously designed for a family restaurant. Although from what Mac could see, most of the pubs were intended to be family friendly.
Amused by the patient vigilance of the large dog watching the fat cat slowly groom itself, Mac couldn't help but look up at the loud group of men that had just come in. No wonder American's so often had bad reputations overseas. It hadn't taken but a few seconds for their loud voices, and accents, to carry across the room. And if their haircuts were any indication, they weren't just Americans, they were military.
"Hi there, pretty lady." A tall dark haired kid sidled up beside Mac.
"The name isn't pretty lady." Just what she needed, a drunk Vukovic clone.
"I don't think the 'little lady' is interested." One of his buddies laughed, slapping him across the back.
"Maybe you should try a more 'proper' line," another friend chimed in. "Watch and learn." Turning to Mac, "Excuse the uncouth character, ma'am. My name is Billy, may I offer you a real drink?"
Okay, this one was a little more polite about it, but if he thought inferring she didn't have a real drink was going to score him any points, boy did he have a lot to learn. Of course, that line probably works just fine in most of the port dives these guys are used to visiting.
"No thank you. I'm waiting for someone."
"See!" The first sailor shouted. "You're way ain't any better."
"Perhaps you chaps should try a different establishment. Haven't you learned yet, we don't get 'working girls' here." The burley bartender had decided that maybe the 'little lady' could use some help in her husband's absence.
"She don't look like any blushing virgin to me," the first sailor added, none too softly.
Now, this guy really reminded her of Vic. What was the Navy doing nowadays? Mass producing arrogant idiots. Didn't they learn their lesson with Tailhook?
"Come on Dave, the lady didn't do anything. Let's just get something to eat," the only silent member of the group spoke up.
"Your friend is right, you really should try going someplace else. Maybe dry out a little." Mac wasn't sure why she was worried about this moron, but she knew if Harm saw him, the guy would be lucky to get away with a week's bread and water.
"Oh, she does care," Dave cooed dramatically before grabbing Mac's arm and trying to pull her against him.
Stepping around the corner in time to see the foolish young man grab his wife, Harm grimaced quietly, almost feeling sorry for the poor kid as he watched the young man's feet fly three feet off the ground before landing flat on his six.
"May I help you gentlemen?" Harm announced his presence.
"Captain Rabb, Sir!" The mostly quiet one in the group snapped to attention, immediately recognizing his CO. Without hesitation, the other two snapped to attention as well. Turning to see Harm's size 13 shoes, it wasn't long before the fool hearty fourth was standing at attention beside his buddies.
"Is there a problem here?" Harm wondered if he should be amused at their youthful stupidity, or if there had been something more going on.
"Sir. No, sir!" the four voices echoed.
The majority of the patrons were now pleasantly amused with the latest bit of entertainment. These sailors had come in off and on recently, and though most times were pleasant, the loud one had managed to irritate almost every one of the regulars with his constant hitting on the single women.
Harm recognized one of the young men from headquarters. He hadn't learned his name yet, but he was often on duty across the hall when Harm stayed late at work. The other three faces were unfamiliar to him. Something he was soon going to rectify.
"Then I'm sure you have an excellent reason for disrespecting a senior officer?" Harm glared intently at the now serious young man who had been pulling at Mac.
"Sir?" Petty Officer first class David Harris questioned as politely as possible.
"Obviously, you've met my wife." Gesturing at Mac, "Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, United States Marine Corps." Harm swallowed the smile that threatened to spread across his face at the instant pallor that washed over all four men's faces.
"Excuse me, ma'am. No disrespect intended, ma'am. I … I…"
"He just needs a bit of polishing ma'am. Please accept all our apologies," Chief Petty Officer William 'Billy' Hanes offered on all his friend's behalf.
"Aye, ma'am," the other two sailors echoed.
Waiting just long enough for all four men to have visions of their Navy careers flushing down the toilet, "Apology accepted," Mac nodded. "Are you okay?" she directed at the young man who she'd flipped on his ass.
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you for understanding, ma'am," the petty officer replied meekly, ignoring the urge to rub his sore six.
"That leaves me. I want all of you to report to my office tomorrow morning at 0800."
"Yes, sir!" The four friends were still standing ramrod straight, and somewhat peaked.
"And I suggest you get back to quarters, now." Harm knew full well his 'suggestion' would be taken as an order. "That will be all."
The moment the four men were out the door, the pub burst into a loud round of applause.
"Dinner's on the house." The bartender grinned. He had come within inches of bodily removing the men when Mac shifted her weight and flipped the troublemaker flat on his back. Had he known the attractive woman was a Marine colonel, he wouldn't have interfered, but he had to admit, he took great pleasure at the panicked look on the young sailor's face when his feet left the floor.
"Don't be too hard on them." Mac rubbed her hand along Harm's arm as he took a seat beside her. "I don't think he's going to forget tonight anytime soon," she snickered.
"I won't. But I am going to check out the loud one. He seems to have a little too much resentment for just a drunken sailor."
"I don't know about that. He reminds me of a lot of drunks I knew. None of which have turned out to be serial killers." Mac hoped Harm wasn't going to start seeing suspects in every angry male.
"Maybe not, but it won't hurt to check this one out." Harm took a sip of his beer. Especially if this lunatic had now crossed paths with his wife.
Chapter 14
Sunday night
two weeks later
Rabb Flat
0245 hours
Mac rolled over slowly. She'd felt every roll and turn that Harm had made the last two hours. What little sleep had come wasn't giving him any rest. Hearing a deep sigh, she waited silently as he climbed out of bed, put on his robe, and quietly left the room.
It took her a few minutes to decide if she should let him work this out on his own or get out of bed as well. Realizing as long as Harm was up and worried, she wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep either, she decided to follow him. If he really needed to be alone, he could always just tell her so.
Tightening the belt of her robe, Mac strolled softly into the kitchen.
"Can't sleep, huh?"
"Oh, Mac, I'm sorry. I didn't want to wake you." Harm was making a pot of tea.
"You didn't."
He raised one questioning eyebrow.
"Okay, maybe a little," Mac giggled quietly and took a seat at the table. "So what is it?"
"Same thing." Harm poured the now boiling water into the new porcelain pot one of the neighbor's had given them. "Want a cup?"
"Please." This had all the earmarks of being a long conversation.
"I keep waiting for the next shoe to fall. For the next victim to turn up." Harm looked up at Mac, waiting for the tea to steep.
"It was five weeks between the first two murders."
"Yeah, but only a few days before the third. What made him move so quickly after the second, and then sit back and rest now? What ticked him off about Mary?" Impatient, Harm poured himself and Mac a cup. The English took their tea way too seriously. He didn't like staring at a pot waiting for the tea to steep. A tea bag and a microwave had always been good enough before.
"The original Jack the Ripper just stopped. Maybe three victims was all this guy needed to stop?" Mac didn't know what else to say.
"I don't think so. It just doesn't feel over."
"Okay. Let's go over what we've got again. Maybe something fresh will pop up at us." Mac stirred some sugar into her cup as Harm began recounting the information.
"All three victims were found somewhere other than the murder scene. Meg seems to feel strongly that the killer knows his victims at least a little. The staging implies a relationship of some kind. Not random victims."
"Makes sense. The ever present question though is how well?"
"We thought at first the victims were enlisted, but that broke with Mary. The first two were brunettes. Mary was a blonde. Jenkins and Howard had broken up with someone in the not too distant past. Jenkins was actually engaged. According to Bud, Howard's sister said she was going strong with a guy she'd met here at the base. Then when he shipped out to Iraq, he just stopped talking to her. She'd met someone recently on her commute to work every day and was hopeful he would ask her out. Her sister said it was the first time in a long time she'd thought Margaret sounded happy again."
"Mary seems to be the odd man out on this. Did she have a recently broken relationship?" Mac blew into the hot tea.
"No. She hadn't dated anyone since she got here that her friends know of."
"What about Baskin? I thought I noticed a little familiarity there." Mac took a small sip.
"I thought so too. I had Meg do a thorough check on him. He's the shining star at the Yard. Came up through the ranks on a fast track. His nickname is Baskerville."
"Baskerville?"
"Because he sniffs out his perps like a bloodhound."
"So they nicknamed him after Sherlock Holmes' Hound of the Baskervilles? It's going to take me some time to get used to the British sense of humor, isn't it?" Shaking her head, she took another sip of tea. "You still think he may have had something to do with Mary's death, don't you?"
"I'm keeping my eyes and ears open. He claims he left Mary at the door. What if he wanted more, she said no, and in a fit of anger, he went too far and covered up by making Mary look like all the other victims? He'd know how to do it, and it would explain why so much of Mary's history doesn't match the other victims." Harm took a drink, his eyebrows daring Mac to argue. He had a point.
"I think it's a stretch."
"Maybe. Maybe not."
"Did you say Jenkins had a broken engagement before her current fiancé?"
"Yeah."
"Do you know why?" Mac set her cup on the table, a thread of an idea forming in her mind.
"Not much. Her previous fiancé shipped out to Iraq. Her friends weren't sure why, but a couple of months later, she broke it off."
"Kathy at the BX told me that Margaret Howard was almost engaged. She had mentioned to Kathy that she was sure she was going to be getting a ring. The next thing Kathy knew, the guy rotated out to Iraq and Margaret stopped talking about it. Kathy made it sound like it was Margaret's choice. Maybe Kathy wasn't the only one to think so?"
"So you're saying the killer thinks both victims broke off a relationship or engagement with someone stationed in Iraq?" Harm straightened up in his seat. This was the first connection anyone had come up with that suggested a possible motive. A broken relationship was a standard stressor.
"It's almost like, Mary was an impulse killing. Something she did triggered the murderer to change his criteria for choosing a victim. She's not a brunette, there's no broken engagement, and she's not enlisted. She is however, missing the ring finger." Mac sat back in her chair. For the first time in this case she thought she was beginning to understand where the killer might be coming from.
"I'll have Meg check for every person who has rotated back from Iraq. Then we'll see if any of them have a history of a Dear John letter somewhere in their past." Letting out a sigh of relief. "It's late. I think maybe we should try and get some sleep."
Standing up and strolling around the table, Mac stood behind Harm, and dropped her arms around his neck. Her hands resting casually against his chest, her voice quiet and low, she whispered into his ear, "I'm not very sleepy now."
In a move that would have made Bruce Lee proud, Harm flipped Mac around onto his lap. "I wasn't really sleepy either," he practically purred before capturing her lips in his and carrying her back to bed.
Harm's office
Next morning
"She may be onto something. I'll get on it right away." Meg stood up, encouraged by the possibilities.
"Listen, I know you don't agree with me, but keep Baskin at a distance for the moment. I just found out I've got to report to Naples tomorrow morning."
"What did you do this time?" Meg smiled demurely.
"You shoot one little weapon off in the courtroom and everyone always assumes the worst when the brass calls. The Mahan is participating in the annual multinational maritime exercises and all fleet JAG are to report for a review meeting. I won't be around to cover your six, and Perkins isn't going to be much help. Just humor me and don't work too closely with Baskin. If you can't get out of working together, make sure he drops you off here at the office during business hours. I'll leave word with James, if you don't report in by close of duty, she's to flag me down no matter where I am."
"Aye, aye, Captain. Understood." Meg saluted mockingly.
"Another thing. Mac and I didn't have time for a real honeymoon. I was hoping to take her with me, then take a few extra days to do the tourist thing. Is there any chance you'd be willing to stay at our place with Mattie? She's become incredibly self sufficient, but still..."
"No problem. I was getting tired of the same four walls anyway," Meg chuckled softly. "It'll be nice to talk to someone besides the 'telly'. You two go off and lock yourselves in the hotel room and don't worry about a thing here."
"Well, I can't promise you I won't worry, but I'll see what I can do about staying in the hotel room." Harm shook his head in amusement at his one time partner. If the amount of time he and Mac spent alone at home was any indication, they might not find the time to see very much of Italy.
Chapter 15
Thursday afternoon
Naples Italy
At first Mac had wanted to stay in London and wait to meet Harm in Italy after the meetings with the Admiral were over. It hadn't taken long for Harm to convince her he never wanted to spend another night in a bed without her again.
She'd spent several hours happily exploring the National Archeological Museum, the San Gennaro Catacombs, and subterranean Naples. She found underground Naples to be an unexpectedly fascinating hour and a half tour. Especially how the caverns had been used for shelter during World War II.
When not enthralled with one of the many museums, galleries, or churches, Mac found herself strolling the lively city streets amused by the many vendors pushing their wears.
Originally, Harm had expected his evenings to be free to explore the ancient city with his wife, but that was not to be. So far, both their evenings had been taken up with official dinners, and tonight was not going to be any exception. Admiral Ulrich had only recently taken over as Nato's Commander, Allied Joint Force, and Commander, Naval Forces Europe. He was using this opportunity to get to know Harm and the rest of the officers in his command.
This of course meant Mac was spending much more time with crusty old Navy wives than she would have liked. She hadn't minded the small talk the first night, but by the second evening the conversations hung a little too long on her military career. Something she was beginning to miss terribly. After all these years she'd gotten used to being asked how a good looking woman like her made it in the marine corps, but it was more difficult than she'd expected explaining how she could just walk away.
"Have I mentioned you look absolutely stunning in that dress?" Harm whispered into his wife's ear. He had somehow managed to break away from the cluster of brass and whisk his wife into his arms for a dance.
"I'd better. It cost you a fortune." Mac couldn't resist the sly grin that spread across her face. She'd found a lovely little boutique on her walk back to the hotel this afternoon. Since she hadn't expected to be needing an evening gown, it was the perfect excuse to buy a new dress. She had to admit, maybe hanging out with crusty old Navy wives had a few perks.
"You're worth every penny." Harm pulled her in a little closer than protocol allowed, but he didn't care. "We leave first thing in the morning for Capri." The longing in his voice conveyed so much more than the few simple words.
Mac simply looked up and smiled. She could see Admiral Ulrich and his wife making their way towards them. "It won't be soon enough," she whispered before separating from her husband to properly greet Harm's superior officer. "Duty calls," she grinned through slightly clenched teeth.
"Captain. My wife tells me you and your bride are heading off to Capri in the morning."
"Yes, sir," Harm smiled politely.
"Lovely place for a honeymoon," Mrs. Ulrich chimed in.
"Hm? Oh, yes. If I could speak with you a moment." Admiral Ulrich turned from his wife to look at Harm and signaled for him to follow. "I'm concerned about this Jack the Ripper case. Captain Billings has just brought to my attention that the news has finally made the front page in London. Granted it's on the cover of one of the tabloids, but still, this won't be good for us. Have you any leads at all?"
"We have a few ideas, but nothing concrete yet." Harm had thought he was going to make it through these few days without having to discuss this frustrating case.
"I see. I understand you were one of JAG's best." The Admiral hesitated a moment before continuing. "I expect to see this resolved before we have anymore dead sailors on our doorstep. Don't let me down Rabb." Ulrich's previously jovial disposition had just altered to a more demanding tone.
"Yes, sir." Now, if only Harm was as sure as he sounded. CO or not, it looked like Harm was going to be doing a little legwork on this case as soon as he and Mac returned to London.
Caesar Augustus Hotel (http/
Capri Italy
Next day
Mac's breath had caught in her throat at the incredible view as they rode the cable car up the cliff side. When the bellboy showed them into their room, she stopped breathing all together. It was the most breathtaking view she had ever seen in her life.
"Oh, Harm." She couldn't seem to find the words for anything else. While Harm tipped the young man, Mac stepped out onto the balcony and let the warm summer sun bake on her face.
"You like?" He wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin lightly on the top of her head.
"Like? This is heaven." She let her full weight rest back against him.
"Mom swore this was the place to come."
"Remind me to always pay attention to your mom's advice." Standing in the warm Mediterranean sun, wrapped in Harm's arms really did feel like heaven. Aside from the time harm mumbled 'let's get married', and when she heard him declare 'I do' to the preacher, this was the happiest moment in Mac's entire life.
Mac smelled absolutely delicious. Even without perfume, she always had a wonderful aroma of vanilla and almonds that made him want to carry her off and devour her, no matter where they might be. Delighted he no longer had to resist the temptation, Harm leaned slightly sideways and began nibbling gently at the hollow of her neck.
"What would you like to do first?" he managed to ask between nibbles.
"Do you have to ask?" Mac leaned her head back, thoroughly enjoying her husband's sweet caress when her stomach announced loudly that it had other plans.
Still wrapped closely together, the newlyweds broke into a rather loud giggle.
"I guess maybe we should try to catch the poolside brunch." Harm pulled back slightly, his fingers delicately rubbing the sides of her shoulders. "Besides, I've been looking forward to seeing you in a bathing suit again."
Flipping around in his arms to face him. "You don't mind if we get a little something to eat?" Mac asked almost shyly.
"I'll have you for the rest of my life. I think it's only fair that I stop and feed you once in a while along the way." His smile was broad and honest. As much as he loved being with his wife in the biblical sense, anything that made her happy made him happy. In this case, a five star brunch was in order.
In record time, they had changed into swimsuits and arrived downstairs with plenty of time to enjoy the massive buffet. Mac had bought a lovely lace cover up in Naples for over her swimsuit. Despite the appetizing array of culinary delectables, Harm simply couldn't keep his eyes off her.
"I'm thinking for our first anniversary we should take a Mediterranean cruise," Harm commented watching Mac savor every bite. She had to be the only woman alive who could make eating look sexy. "They say the food is to die for, and practically 24/7."
"I don't know. This seems pretty 'to die for' to me." She took another bite of the melon and Serrano ham. Her eyes rolling with delight at every bite.
The remainder of the afternoon was spent laying poolside. Sprawled out comfortably, side by side on the lounge chairs, their arms stretched out the short distance between them holding hands, each would often sneak a glimpse at the other. An expression of pride and pleasure made it obvious to anyone watching, these two people were desperately in love.
"I think I'm going to take a quick dip." Harm sat up, not really wanting to let go of Mac's hand, but needing to cool off.
"I think I'll soak up a little more sun." Mac loved lying out in the sun. Something she very rarely had time for in the short DC summers. Opening one eye, she watched Harm walk over to the edge of the pool and dive in. Damn, that man looked fine in a swimsuit. Actually, he looked fine out of it, too. Changing her mind, Mac placed her watch on the table beside her and dove in after her husband.
Harm had just come up at the shallow side of the pool and was brushing his hair away from his face when he felt two hands reach around his middle and pull him back. Startled by the unexpected contact, Harm flipped over with a loud splash before he spotted his wife.
"What? Are you trying to drown me already to collect my insurance?" Harm teased.
"Decided you looked too cute to let swim alone. Some rich barracuda might set her sights on you," Mac grinned playfully.
"You think so?" Harm pulled Mac into his arms. Dropping down so they were mostly covered by water, he slowly and thoroughly kissed the woman he loved.
Mac could feel the kiss all the way to her toes. The cool water was doing nothing to stem the heat erupting inside her. "I think I've had enough sun for today." Leaning back in for another kiss, she carefully brushed more closely against him.
Pulling back before leaving the water would become embarrassing. "Yeah, I wouldn't want you to burn on your first day." Grudgingly, Harm let go of his wife. Leaving the pool and gathering up their belongings, he tried not to look like a lovesick schoolboy and resisted the urge to sprint to their room. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he swallowed hard, slowly placing one foot in front of the other. 'Patience, Rabb.'
Shifting around in the elevator, Harm watched as the doors sprang open making room for a young couple, their daughter, and her nanny. The little girl couldn't have been more than a couple of years old, and the mom appeared very pregnant. At least it seemed that way to Harm. Without any serious thought, he pulled Mac more tightly against him, his hand gently squeezing her shoulder expressing a comfort he knew she needed without even glancing in her direction. Their life was perfect, except for one small flaw. Her biological clock had run out. He had waited too long. Something he wasn't sure he could ever forgive himself for. He should never have come up with such a long range plan. He should have just told her the truth that day on the steps of headquarters. He couldn't imagine life without her and if she'd have him, they could be married and start making babies right away. Then Mac could have been that woman with a little girl or two, and be bulging with another.
Without realizing it, he had taken his other arm and dropped his hand squarely on her stomach. It wasn't until he felt Mac's deep sigh against him that he realized what he had done. Unsure of how to undo his thoughtless gesture, the elevator's ding announcing their floor snapped him out of his pondering.
Silently they walked arm in arm down the short hall. Sliding the keycard into its designated slot, Harm opened the door and waved Mac in. She dropped her bag on the nearest chair and walked straight to the balcony. His heart tore at the pain in her eyes. In the whirlwind of the proposal, the coin toss, the wedding, and the move to London, nothing had been said of the one time baby deal, or its current complications.
Mac had every intention of seeing a specialist when life was a little more settled, but she had little hope it would actually make a difference. Four percent wasn't very much. The way she looked at it, out of the next 100 months, or eight and half years, she only had four months when she might get lucky. Miserable odds by anyone's standards.
"I'm sorry," were the only words Harm could find. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gently caressed the soft flesh. "I love you," he whispered into her ear.
"Thank you." Mac closed her eyes, taking in the warmth of the sun and Harm's gentle touch.
"Thank you?"
"For loving me anyway," Mac expounded.
"Oh, Mac. How could I not love you?" Harm pulled her around to face him. "You're everything any man could ever want in a partner, friend, lover, and wife."
"Except, I can't give you children. Your children." Mac tried to turn back towards the ocean.
"You don't know that for sure, and even if you can't carry a child we can still have children." He held her tightly, not letting her turn away.
"It's not fair to you." She let her head fall heavily on his shoulder.
"The only thing not fair to me would be if I couldn't have you in my life. If we never have children, it won't matter as long as we're together. Life without you wouldn't be worth getting out of bed for. I should know, I've tried it." Memories of trying to lose himself in the CIA for six months passed quickly through his thoughts.
Not wanting her to ever doubt how much he loved her, he tucked his chin deeper against his chest staring down at his beautiful brown-eyed marine. Lifting her face with his finger, he gingerly let his lips settle softly on hers in a kiss that was tender and hungry all at once. Straightening up, "You're all I'll ever need," he reassured.
"Well, I'm all you've got, sailor." Thinking, ' I hope it's enough', she moved her arms up from his waist to his neck, and nudged him closer for another kiss. As with the first, this kiss embodied the tenderness, love, and hunger dwelling deep inside, and rapidly chased away the pain.
Chapter 16Although they managed to find the time to visit some of the shops, the famous blue grotto, and of course sample some of the better restaurants, the majority of the three days in Capri were spent in true newlywed mode, in the hotel room. Breakfast had seemed an unnecessary interruption Sunday morning. Neither felt even slightly inclined to cease their now ritual morning activities until a mere half hour before check out time.
Doing a little last minute souvenir shopping along the narrow streets high above the water, Harm and Mac walked hand in hand, smiling like the proverbial Cheshire cat. Occasionally while waiting for a vendor to wrap up their purchase, Harm would pull Mac into his chest with one arm, her eyes gleaming up at him with such love and warmth, he couldn't help but hope, no pray, that he could fill all her dreams. He wanted to see that ecstatic glow on her face for all time. A small part of him hoped that by some miracle, all their love had created a new life.
LondonMonday afternoon
Look at her walking so smugly. I hope she ordered fries with that shake. When did they start letting women like that in the marines, anyhow? An officer no less. She's no better than the rest of them.
Oops. I'm going to have to be a little more careful. She almost saw me that time. Good thing this place believes in stacking their displays so high. I wonder if she saw me ducking? Great, now I'm getting dirty looks from customers. Gees, you'd think these people had never seen anyone change their mind and move quickly. At least it was a wobbly old lady who spotted me hiding and not her.
Look at how she's flirting with the checkout clerk? I wonder how many other men she has batted those big brown eyes at and gotten her way? She probably uses them all the time. Probably used them on every CO she has ever worked with. Bat your eyes and shake your ass. Just another whore.
Of course, everyone runs to help her with her bags. You'd think the ring would keep them away. That blasted ring is almost blinding. They just can't ignore her. She's nothing but a tramp, a common whore. Everyone wants a piece of her. Uh oh, here she comes. Maybe if I just read this magazine cover she won't notice me. Why should she? She never notices me. Never says more than hello or good bye. Though, she does say thank you. She probably says that a lot too. Uses it the same way she bats those huge eyes and uses that great figure. Wonder how much the surgeon charged for 'those'?"
Figures she'd live in this nice neighborhood. Couldn't live on base housing. No, that wouldn't be good enough for her. Damn. Does she have to walk so fast? You'd think she knew someone was following her. No, she couldn't. Could she? I'd better back off just a bit anyhow, but I don't want to lose her. Holy crap, she's stopping at the bakery too. Doesn't this woman have a budget? Or does her sugar daddy take care of that too? You'd think someone with a sweet tooth wouldn't have such a drop dead gorgeous figure. She'd probably turn into an old fat woman anyhow, not that I'm going to let that happen. Women like her need to learn. Someone has to teach them respect.
How much further to her place? For crying out loud, even marines don't want to walk all over London carrying their groceries. Ah, so that's the place. Nice little mews. Not much traffic. No one will ever notice. I can just wait in this corner here. I doubt anyone will spot me. They never do. I'll wait till dark. This one will be easy.
The thin sharp blade caught a shimmer of fading sunlight. Slowly twirling the knife, fascinated by the light shining off the silvery steel. This will be so easy. This time she'll learn. They'll all learn.
Harm's officeEarlier that morning
"What did you manage to come up with?" Harm asked, directing Meg to take a seat.
"It looks like Mac might be onto something. Of the 760 military personnel currently in the London area, it appears that 118 have returned from at least one tour in Iraq in the last year. We're still trying to narrow down how many of those received some sort of Dear John letter." Meg let out a short sigh.
"Something wrong?"
"Well, it would help if broken engagements were part of everyone's service records, but they're not. I've been interviewing personnel for a week straight since you left, and I've barely put a dent in my list. I can't even eliminate the married personnel. There's no way of knowing if a previously broken engagement left deep seeded resentments."
"You said we might be onto something?"
"Yes, so far I've uncovered five enlisted and two officers with broken engagements, and as I said, I've barely scratched the surface." Meg handed Harm a list of personnel.
"Better double check all these names against any incident reports. Check their medical histories. Check their rotation evals. See if any have been recommended for extended therapy. All of these guys should have had at least a quick pass through with the Navy shrink before returning to duty here." Harm looked up as Meg dropped another file in front of him. A short grin tugging at the corners of his mouth when he saw the satisfied smile on her face. This was after all, why he asked for a senior officer with HQ experience.
"So far only one has a red flag. Your Petty Officer Harris." Meg controlled her enthusiasm, but couldn't keep one side of her face from twitching upwards in a satisfied smirk.
"MY Petty Officer?"
"You know, the one who had a few choice words for your wife?"
The hairs on the back of Harm's neck stood on edge. Opening the file slowly, he leaned back in his chair and began reading.
"Baskin agrees with me, this guy is on the hook. If you agree, they're willing to put a man on him?" Meg waited patiently for Harm's reaction to the information in front of him.
"No. We'll use our own. Call Ruislip, have a couple of MP's, innocuous ones, assigned to tail this guy." Harm resisted the urge to let out a quiet whistle. From the day he got his Dear John letter, Harris had spent more time in the brig than out. "He put his ex-fiancée's new husband in the hospital?" Harm paused to look up.
"On their wedding day."
"And he's not in the brig because…?" Harm scanned quickly down the file.
"Neither the ex nor her husband was willing to press charges with the local police. The JAG prosecutor wasn't so lenient, so he cut a deal with the Navy, thirty days in the brig. The deal made sure to include one more violent incident and he'd be out of the Navy. Dishonorable discharge. He's been clean as a whistle since then."
"When did he get out?" Harm froze at the date on the next sheet of paper.
"Uh huh. Twelve weeks ago." Meg sat back. She still had over sixty people to interview and follow up on, but she couldn't possibly expect to find anything closer to their mark than this.
If this turns out to be the guy, things could end sooner than later. If it's not, then Meg was going to need more help.
"Why don't you join us for dinner tonight? I want Mac to hear all this." Harm reached over and dialed his home.
"Sure, I've gotten used to having company for dinner anyhow," Meg smiled.
"Hey, Mac. Listen, Meg has had a couple of possibilities turn up… Mm hm… That's what I was thinking… I've invited her to dinner tonight….. Good…" Harm bit back a small smile at his wife's short comment about having to keep her hands off him till dessert. "We'll try to be home by 1730… I love you too." Trying not to blush at the last line, Harm hung up the phone and faced Meg.
"She's going to run to the market and pick up a few things for dinner. It seems all that Italian food inspired her to try her hand at a new recipe she got from an overly friendly sales woman in Naples, and she's been looking for a good excuse to try the bakery around the corner."
Chapter 17Alley behind Good Samaritan Pub
Turner Street, Whitechapel
0215
For a woman, she certainly weighs a ton. Probably all that Marine muscle, for all the good it did her. Just like all the others, she never saw the chloroform coming. It was so easy. It's always so easy. Women like this never learned to use their minds, only their bodies. Always luring unsuspecting men. Not anymore. I'll show them. I'll show them all.
Rabb Flat
0430
Harm rolled over sleepily. Slowly the ringing in the distance penetrated his groggy dreams. It hadn't been long since he'd stopped tossing and turning and finally fallen into a sound sleep. He was going to have to do something about having a phone installed in the bedroom. It made no sense to him that the only phone line was in the kitchen. On the other hand, maybe the Brits had something there. Perhaps not having a phone at every step wasn't such a bad thing.
Stumbling out of bed, he made it to the kitchen just in time to hear Meg Austin mumble something about, "I'll tell him right away," as she lazily tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes with her free hand.
"Sorry about that," Harm managed to get out despite the stifling yawn. "When I suggested it was too late to go home and you just stay over, I hadn't expected anyone to be calling at…" looking up at the clock with one eye, "zero four thirty."
"That was Baskin." Meg brushed her hair away from her face.
"Damn. Where?"
"Good Samaritan Pub, Whitechapel. Think Mattie will mind if I use her shower? It will save us some time."
"No. That's the great thing about teenagers, they can sleep through a typhoon."
"Want some company?" Mac yawned sleepily from the hallway.
"An extra pair of eyes never hurt." Meg shrugged one shoulder at Harm.
"Agreed. You two hit the showers first. I'll put on a quick pot of coffee."
"Better make it marine grade. It could be a long morning," Mac called over her shoulder on her way back to their room. Turning to Meg, she said, "Let me get you a clean towel. Need anything else?"
"Nope. I still have a basket of laundry I was going to need to pick up. Guess being forgetful Sunday night has its advantages." Meg accepted the towel Mac was pulling out of the linen closet and turned towards Mattie's room.
Good Samaritan PubWhitechapel
Later that morning
Harm quickly paid the cabby and hurried to catch up with Mac and Meg.
"Anyone mind waiting for the CO?" Harm teased.
The only advantage to being dragged out of bed at this godforsaken hour of the morning was the lack of a crowd. Harm could see the body just behind where Mac and Meg had paused to wait for him.
"What have we got?" Meg turned to Baskin.
"Same thing. Female, early twenties, naked, head completely severed, torso dissected, mutilated, posed. With the exception of no missing fingers, this fits with the expected escalation of anger," Baskin ran off quickly.
"Any ID?" Meg inquired, already scanning the surroundings for additional evidence.
"Harm, Meg!" Mac called from the other side of the alley.
"What?" Meg was the first to catch up to her.
"How much would you like to bet that came from our victim?" Holding her arm straight out, Mac pointed to a very large solitaire diamond ring.
"Wheeew," Meg whistled loudly. "That cost someone a pretty penny."
"No kidding," Baskin chimed in. "As I started to tell you, we haven't found anything to identify the victim, but if that rock was hers, someone should remember her."
"Inspector!" A tall gangly man who didn't look old enough to be out of high school came running down the alley.
"What is it Grayson?"
"Up the street, last alley before the tube station, we've found an American Marine's uniform in the wheely bin. Dog tags too." Grayson turned to lead the way four blocks down the road.
"Wheely bin?" Meg repeated softly.
"Trash bin," Baskin replied, taking off after Grayson at a near trot.
"How far are your people searching?" Harm inquired three blocks into the trek.
"I gave orders to search all the way to Buckingham Palace if necessary."
Arriving at the alley, slightly out of breath, Baskin leaned over the contents of the trash that had been spewed on the ground. Carefully poking with one end of a pen, he flipped the tags. "Captain Elizabeth Russell."
"Damn," Harm mumbled under his breath. Marines, Navy, officers, enlisted. "I want to know where she's stationed, if that ring was hers, and I want to know yesterday." Harm wasn't speaking to anyone in particular but Meg flipped her cell phone open immediately.
"Petty Officer? Sorry to start your day so early, but we need some info, ASAP."
RAF Ruislip"I appreciate your coming along." Meg pushed open the door to the exchange.
"This whole thing is starting to get under my skin too." Mac followed Meg into the large building.
"I wish we could just pin down the connection on all this." The frustration in Meg's voice was clear to everyone.
"Well, at least we know the ring was hers. Somewhere her engagement has something to do with this."
"But I thought we were working on the premise of broken engagements?"
"Maybe. Maybe we're being too narrow minded." Mac paused to take a deep breath. "Okay, we know she's engaged to some hot shot lawyer down on Bond Street. She lives in a nice neighborhood in Kensington."
"That seems to be popping up rather often doesn't it?" Meg interrupted.
"Three out of four. Do we know if Howard had any business in Kensington?"
"No. The woman was a virtual recluse. I'm lucky I even know her name, rank and serial number." Meg rolled her eyes in exasperation.
"Kensington could be a factor. Somehow, the killer's and victim's paths might cross there."
"Which could mean the killer lives there, and that's why he moves the bodies someplace else."
"Good. We need to find out who was in the picture with Captain Russell before the lawyer. I'm betting there's a connection to a soldier in Iraq." Mac pointed up at Meg, a fiery look in her eyes.
"Then you're still thinking the broken engagement thing is the main connection?"
"I'm thinking it has to fit in somewhere." Mac turned the corner and strolled up to Kathy's counter. "Hi."
"Hello, Mrs. Rabb. Nice to see you back so soon," Kathy smiled brightly.
"Well, I'm keeping Commander Austin here company while she does a little investigation and I suggested you probably know more people than anyone else on the base."
"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Kathy blushed.
"Do you know this woman?" Meg showed Kathy the personnel photo of Elizabeth Russell.
"Yeah, Captain Russell. Everyone knows her. She landed some big fish downtown. Broke up with the nicest fellow, too." Kathy looked closely at the photo Meg had handed her, completely oblivious to the way Mac and Meg looked at each other.
"Broke up?" Meg repeated.
"Yeah. Nice guy. They'd been dating for a while."
"Were they engaged?" Mac asked casually.
"Not that I know of, but they were incredibly smitten with each other. Made a really great couple, even after Bobby came back from Iraq. Some of those boys come back with problems, but not Bobby. He came back with his head straight and one thing on his mind. Betsy."
"What happened?" Meg and Mac glanced at each other briefly. Bingo. The other ominous connection, Iraq.
"Don't know. Bobby rotated home and the next thing I know, Betsy is wearing that ring, and you have to know Bobby sure as heck couldn't afford it."
"Does Bobby have a last name?" Meg pulled out a paper and pen.
"Major Robert Harris."
Mac and Meg did another one of those silent 'Do you notice what I notice' things.
"You wouldn't happen to know if he's any relation to Petty Officer David Harris?"
"Sure, Bobby is Dave's big brother."