Chapter 3: The Name Behind the Salute
The younger soldier caught Raymond’s wrist before his fingers touched the photograph.
“Let go of me!” Raymond shouted.
“Then stop reaching for classified evidence,” the decorated officer said.
Raymond pulled free and straightened his robe.
“Evidence of what?
Having coffee with a client?”
I held up the photograph.
“His name is Anton Varek.
Marcus spent eight months tracing payments connected to him.”
“You’re grieving,” Raymond said.
“You see conspiracies everywhere.”
Colonel Daniel Reeves stepped between us.
“Careful, Mr.
Cole.
That photograph was taken outside a restricted contractor facility.”
Victoria stared at her husband.
“You told me you were meeting investors that night.”
“I was.”
“Then why is your investor connected to Marcus?”
Raymond’s mouth tightened.
“Ask your sister.
Apparently, she has been lying to all of us for twelve years.”
Harrison stepped onto the driveway.
“Claire, is this some kind of performance?”
Reeves turned toward him.
“Colonel Claire Bennett commanded intelligence operations on three continents.
Nothing about her service is a performance.”
My father’s lips parted, but no words came out.
Eleanor looked at the cardboard box beside my feet.
“You’re really a colonel?”
“Yes.”
“And Marcus?”
“Major Marcus Bennett.”
Victoria folded her arms.
“Why didn’t you trust us enough to tell us?”
I looked at the open garage and then at her satin robe.
“You ordered me into a freezing room while I was carrying his child.
Is this really the moment you want to discuss trust?”
Victoria’s arms dropped.
Raymond gave a short laugh.
“Wonderful speech.
It still doesn’t explain why soldiers are trespassing on private property.”
“This is my property,” I said.
“Not according to the paperwork.”
His answer came too quickly.
Reeves glanced at me.
“What paperwork?”
Raymond smiled.
“Marcus transferred the house before his last deployment.
Harrison and Eleanor have residential rights, and Victoria and I manage the property.”
“That never happened,” I said.
“You weren’t here when he signed.”
“Neither were you supposed to be.”
Raymond’s smile disappeared.
Reeves closed the folder.
“Colonel, we need to move you to a secure location.”
“No,” I said.
“Not until I see my bedroom.”
Raymond blocked the garage door.
“You’re not going inside.”
The younger soldier stepped forward, but Reeves lifted one hand.
“Mr.
Cole,” Reeves said, “move.”
“Bring a warrant.”
Victoria touched Raymond’s sleeve.
“Why do you care so much about that room?”
“I need an office.
I already told you.”
“At five in the morning on Thanksgiving?”
He jerked away from her.
“Stop interrogating me.”
I watched Victoria recoil.
Raymond had spoken cruelly to me before, but I had never seen him turn that voice on her.
I picked up my cardboard box.
“Victoria, when did Raymond first ask for the bedroom?”
“Last night.”
“Before or after he used the house internet?”
Her eyes moved toward him.
“After.”
Raymond pointed at me.
“She’s trying to turn you against me.”
“No,” Victoria whispered.
“You’re doing that yourself.”
A black sedan stopped beyond the military vehicles.
A gray-haired woman stepped out carrying a leather case.
Reeves nodded to her.
“Federal Magistrate Helen Ward.
We requested emergency authorization after the network breach.”
Ward opened her case and handed Raymond a document.
“This order permits a security search of the property,” she said.
“Interference will carry consequences.”
Raymond read the first page.
His fingers tightened around it.
“You still won’t find anything,” he said.
“Then you have nothing to fear,” I replied.
We entered the house together.
At the stairs, Raymond suddenly moved toward the kitchen instead.
The younger soldier blocked him.
“Where are you going?”
“For water.”
A sharp electronic chirp sounded above us.
Reeves looked toward the second floor.
“Colonel, was there an alarm in your bedroom?”
“No.”
The chirp came again, followed by a faint smell of burning plastic.
May you like
Raymond bolted for the stairs.
“He’s destroying something,” I shouted.
