The Summer House(26)

John has heard this before, and he says, “Then why did you agree to talk to me?”

Tyler struggles, sits back in the chair, blinks his eyes, looks down at the dirty tiled floor, and then looks up again.

“Sometimes the guilt just gets so hot and raw you need to talk to someone other than your team buddies,” Tyler says, his voice softer. “When things don’t go right…when innocents pop up…”

His voice softly dribbles away to heavy silence.

“Please tell me more,” John says, putting as much sympathy and empathy as he can into his voice. We’ve made progress, we’re opening him up, this is going to work. He’s looking forward to reporting back to Major Cook what he’s about to find out.

“Please,” John repeats. “Talk to me.”

Tyler gets up, chair scraping, cuffed hands before him.

“No,” he says. “I’ve changed my mind.”





Chapter 18



TIME PASSES SLOWLY, but Staff Sergeant Caleb Jefferson is in no rush. Earlier, when Specialist Tyler unexpectedly left, he whispered quick orders to Barnes and Ruiz, the other members of his fire team, about what to do next, and like the good men they are, they followed his orders.

A door opens up with a metallic clunk, and the woman jail attendant—Marcy—brings Ruiz in, putting him back into his cell, and Jefferson stands up.

Marcy comes to the old-fashioned barred cell door and says, “Your turn, Sergeant Jefferson, if you wish.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You promise to be a gentleman, like before?”

“Absolutely, ma’am.”

“You know what’s next.”

“I do, ma’am.”

He puts his hands through a slot in the bars so Marcy can handcuff them, and after the shackles snap into place, he steps back, as she uses a large metal key on a wooden stick to unlock the door.

With the cell door open, she gestures him forward, and he follows her direction. She and the other jailers seem in awe of him and his team, which is just fine, because they are widely ignorant of what he and they are capable of.

Jefferson thinks that in under a minute he could hurt and disable Marcy, free himself, Barnes, Tyler, and Ruiz, and get out of this small town in under ten minutes, never to be seen again.

It’s certainly something to think about.



In the small interrogation room, he stares at the Army psychiatrist as he pulls his chair up close to the small table and lets his handcuffed hands and thick arms stretch across the tabletop, invading Dr. John Huang’s personal space.

Jefferson knows a lot about shooting people, leading men, and blowing things up, but he also knows a bit of how an officer’s mind works.

Huang is slim, well dressed, and of Chinese descent. To Jefferson, this means he’s come from the kind of strict Asian upbringing in which Mom and Dad force their children to be 100 percent at all times. Tiger moms and tiger dads. He, on the other hand, grew up in Gilmor Homes in Baltimore, living with his grandmother, Mom in jail and Dad gone, and the street education he got there was probably one hell of a lot rougher and to the point than what the good doctor experienced.

“So,” Jefferson says, “what do you want?”

Huang is leaning back in his chair, trying to look cool and inviting, and Jefferson will have none of that. His brown eyes are tight and intelligent, and the staff sergeant is going to be cautious with this bright man, even if he’s probably never picked up a weapon since Basic.

“You came to see me,” the doctor says. “Why is that?”

Jefferson says, “You came here and specifically asked for Specialist Tyler. That’s why I’m in this room with you. To see what you did to him. He’s the youngest member of my team. You trying to tempt him, break him?”

The doctor says, “I just wanted to talk to him.”

“How did it go?”

“It went fine.”

Jefferson smiles. “How did the other two interviews go? Not as well?”

“They went fine,” the doctor repeats.

Jefferson slightly shakes his head. “Oh, come on, Doc. It didn’t go well so don’t bullshit me. I’ve got one hell of a good bullshit detector, built and polished over the years, working with upstanding officers like you. Don’t tell me otherwise.”

He says, “Fair enough. I won’t bullshit you. And I’ll say the other two men—Barnes and Ruiz—were quiet. And formidable. They barely went beyond name and rank. And said you were the best staff sergeant they’ve ever served with.”

“Not surprised,” Jefferson says. “They’re the best I’ve ever led. Now. Back to the original question. What…do…you…want?”

“To talk to you and your men,” Huang says. “You’ve been arrested. All four of you are facing serious charges.”

“That’s like telling me the sun just set,” Jefferson says. “You’ve got to do better than that.”

Huang tries to maintain his composure, but Jefferson knows he’s getting under the doctor’s skin. Jefferson says, “You want to talk to me. Fine. I’ll save us all a bunch of time and tell you what’s what.”

Huang says, “All right. I’m curious to hear what you have to say.”