The Captain's Mission. Debby Giusti

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      “Well, there’s a lot to learn. Tonight you’ll get some experience in notification of next of kin.” Phil explained about Corporal Taylor’s death and the necessity of informing the family members.

      “Taylor and his wife, Lola, lived on a farm his mother owns. The senior Mrs. Taylor—” Phil opened a file on his desk “—Mildred Taylor, the mom, has medical problems, although I’m not sure about the exact nature of her condition. We’ll probably learn more tonight.”

      Sanchez nodded and then eyed the framed unit citations and awards on the wall behind Phil’s desk. “You commanded C Company in Afghanistan?”

      “That’s right. We got back three months ago.”

      The chaplain shook his head. “So there was a long separation for the family prior to Corporal Taylor’s death.”

      Phil narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t say tonight would be easy, Chaplain.”

      Sanchez held his gaze. “And I never expected it would be. Just to set the record straight, I didn’t become a chaplain for the easy jobs.”

      With that one statement, Phil’s opinion of the chaplain went up tenfold.

      “Lieutenant Bellows, the platoon leader, will meet us outside. He’ll drive his own vehicle.”

      Phil grabbed his hat and motioned the chaplain forward just as the door to his office opened and Kelly McQueen stepped inside like a whirlwind of fresh air and energy.

      “I thought you’d be at CID headquarters by now,” he said.

      “I’m on my way.” She glanced at Sanchez, then back at Phil. “You said you were going to notify the next of kin?”

      “That’s right.” He introduced her to the chaplain. “Lieutenant Bellows is meeting us outside, and the three of us will drive to the farmhouse.”

      “First Sergeant Meyers gave me directions,” Kelly said. “The Taylor home is about five miles farther out from where I live. I’ll join you there.”

      “Ah—?” Phil hadn’t expected Kelly to go with them. “Do you think that’s wise?”

      She stood up a little straighter. “Wise?”

      “Meaning it’s late. Both Mrs. Taylors—the wife and the mother—will need time to grieve. We could drive out there tomorrow. I’ll probably need to talk to the widow again.”

      Kelly nodded. “Perfect. But I want to see her tonight, as well. I have to stop by CID Headquarters for a few minutes, but I’ll meet you at the farmhouse.”

      She smiled at Sanchez. “Nice to meet you, Chaplain.” Turning on her heel, she left the office and Phil to stare after her.

      His phone rang. Lieutenant Bellows’s voice sounded fatigued when he answered. “Sir, can you give me about fifteen minutes? Private Benjamin Stanley wants to talk to me about what happened today.”

      “He’s one of our new recruits.”

      “Yes, sir. Seems he’s pretty shook up.”

      Phil glanced at his watch. “Get here as soon as you can.”

      The lieutenant drove up in front of the company headquarters just as Phil and the chaplain left the building fifteen minutes later. After introducing the two men, Lieutenant Bellows shared his own concern for the private.

      “Stanley’s young and impressionable. From what he said, this is the first time he’s seen someone die. I’ve got Staff Sergeant Gates with him now.”

      Phil turned to the chaplain. “Gates is one of Lieutenant Bellow’s squad leaders. He’s mid-thirties and fairly squared away. If he can’t reassure Stanley, I may ask you to talk to him tomorrow. He’s a good kid who loves the Lord and knows his Bible, but he’s still got a lot to learn.”

      The chaplain smiled. “I can relate to that. I’d be happy to pray with him. Inviting God into any situation usually brings comfort to those experiencing difficulty.”

      Although Phil didn’t personally agree with the chaplain, he knew Stanley would benefit from the outreach.

      Phil turned to the lieutenant. “Let me know what Gates has to say. If Stanley’s still upset, we can call the chaplain in the morning.”

      “Yes, sir. Some of the other men have been talking about Corporal Taylor. Evidently things hadn’t been too good on the home front since the company redeployed back to the States. Sounds like he and his wife were having problems.”

      “At Chaplains School, we talked about how marital problems escalate once the soldiers redeploy home,” Sanchez said.

      Phil nodded. “Unfortunately the separations are hard on family members as well as the soldiers.”

      “Which will probably compound the grieving process for Mrs. Taylor.”

      The chaplain was right. Phil kept thinking about Taylor and his wife as he and Sanchez headed to the parking lot. Phil had instructed Bellows to drive ahead and wait for him at the farm, assuring the lieutenant they wouldn’t be far behind him.

      Once on the way, Phil made a quick detour that took them past the CID headquarters. He scanned the parking lot, hoping to spot Kelly in case she wanted to follow them, but her Toyota Corolla wasn’t in sight.

      Maybe she had another stop to make. No reason for Phil to be concerned. Sergeant Meyers had given her directions, and she said she would meet them at the Taylor home. From everything he had seen tonight, Kelly could take care of herself.

      As difficult as the notification would be, Phil’s mood lifted ever so slightly when he thought of seeing her again. Then he clamped down on his jaw. What was wrong with him? The last person he should be thinking about was the CID agent. Yet, for some reason, Kelly McQueen was the only thing his mind wanted to focus on tonight.

      The sun had set hours ago, and darkness, thick as tar, enveloped South Georgia as Kelly left Fort Rickman and headed north along the two-lane road that led through Freemont and past the nursing home where her mother had lived for the last year of her life.

      A lump filled Kelly’s throat at the memory of sitting at her dying mother’s bedside. Coronary obstructive pulmonary disease had sapped her energy and left her gasping for air. In spite of the oxygen concentrator that had become her constant companion, her mother’s body had weakened until death seemed almost a welcome alternative to the fragile existence that had held her bound between this world and the next.

      Just a short distance beyond the nursing facility, Kelly spied her own home, which sat back from the road. Never expecting to be tied up for so long on post, Kelly had failed to leave a light on when she left the house earlier today. Now the brick ranch looked dark and foreboding and recessed with shadows from the sliver of moon that hung low in the sky.

      Passing her house, she sped north along the Freemont Road and into a stretch of no-man’s-land flanked by a thick forest of trees on each side of the asphalt. Kelly turned her lights to high beam and flicked her gaze over not only the pavement but also the shoulder and the edge of the forest.

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