CHAPTER 65

MICHELLE AND SEAN watched as Frank Maxwell laid the cluster of flowers on his wife's fresh grave, bowed his head, and mumbled a few words. Then he just stood there, looking off, at what neither of them knew.

Sean whispered to her, "Do you think he's going to be okay?"

"I don't know. I don't even know if I'm going to be okay."

"How're your leg and arm?"

"Fine. And that's not the part of me I'm talking about."

"I know," he said quietly.

She turned to him. "Do you have these kinds of family problems?"

"Every family has issues. Why?"

"Just wondering."

They fell silent as Frank walked toward them.

Michelle put a hand on his arm. "You okay?"

He shrugged but then nodded. As they walked back to Michelle's SUV he said, "I probably shouldn't have left Sally to go and investigate. I probably should have stayed with her."

"If you had, we might not have caught Rothwell and Reagan," Sean pointed out.

When they got back to the house, Michelle made some coffee while Sean prepared sandwiches for lunch. They both looked up when the voice on the small countertop TV in the kitchen came on.

A moment later they were both looking at Willa's image on the screen. The news story was not enlightening. It said all the usual things. FBI still investigating. The First Couple anxious. The country wondering where the little girl was. They knew all that. But the mere sight of the little girl seemed to mesmerize them both, lifting them to a more heightened sense of urgency.

Sean stepped outside to make some phone calls. When he returned Michelle looked at him questioningly.

"Checking in with the First Lady and Chuck Waters."

"Anything new?"

"Nothing. I left another message for my two-star buddy."

"How's Waters coming on tracking down the Koasati angle?"

"They've had people all over that town in Louisiana. Nothing so far. Everybody checks out."

They fell silent. It was clear that now that the mystery of Sally Maxwell's death had been solved, the priority was finding Willa. Alive. But they needed a break. Just one break.

Later, as they sat eating in the kitchen, Frank wiped his mouth with his napkin and cleared his throat.

"I was surprised you went back there," he said.

"Back where?" she countered.

"You know."

"I was pretty stunned to see you there too."

"We were never happy there, you know. Me and your mom."

"Apparently not."

"Do you remember much of it?" he asked cautiously. "You were so little. Not much more than a toddler."

"Dad, I wasn't a toddler. I was six. But, no, I don't remember much about it."

"But you remembered how to get there?"

Michelle lied and said, "That's what we call GPS."

Sean fiddled with a potato chip on his plate while he tried to look everywhere except at father and daughter. "I'll be right back," he said and got up and left before either of them could say anything.

"He's a good man," Frank said.

Michelle nodded. "Probably better than I deserve."

"So you two are like a couple?" He gazed over at his daughter.

She fiddled with the handle of her coffee cup. "More business partners," she said.

Frank glanced out the window. "I worked a lot back then. Left your mother alone too much. It was hard. I see that now. My career as a cop was my life. Your brothers have balanced things a lot better than I ever did."

"I never felt ignored, Dad. And none of the boys did either as far as I can tell. They worshipped you and Mom."

"But did you?"

The look in his eyes was so pleading, she felt the breath harden in her throat. "Did I what?" But she already knew.

"Worship us? Me and your mom?"

"I love you both very much. I always have."

"Right, okay." He went back to his lunch, methodically chewing his sandwich and drinking his coffee, the veins in his strong hands pronounced. But he never looked at her again. And Michelle could not bring herself to amend what she'd already said.

As she and Sean were cleaning up after the meal someone knocked at the front door. She went to answer it and came back a minute later holding a large cardboard box.

Sean put the last cup in the dishwasher, closed it, and turned to her. "What's that? For your dad?"

"No, for you."

"Me!"

She set it down on the table and read the return address. "General Tom Holloway? Department of Defense?"

"My two-star buddy. Looks like he came through with the AWOL records."

"But how did they get here?"

"I e-mailed him on the drive down to Tennessee and left this address just in case he had something and we were still down here. Open it up, quick."

Michelle used a pair of scissors to slit open the box. Inside were separate plastic binders, about three dozen of them. She pulled a few out. They were copies of official Army investigation reports.

"I know he's your friend and all, but why would the Army provide a civilian with this stuff? And do so with such speed?"

Sean took one of the binders and started sifting through it.

"Sean? I asked you a question."

He glanced up. "Well, aside from the football tickets I might've let slip that the White House was behind our investigation and that any cooperation they could lend would be personally pleasing to both the president and the First Lady. Knowing the Army, I'm sure they checked that out and found it was true. First rule in the military, never do anything to piss off the commander in chief."

"I'm impressed."

"That's apparently what I live for."

"So we go through these?"

"Page by page. Line by line. And hope to God it's the break we need."

A door slammed. Michelle rose and looked out the window in time to see her father climb in his car and drive off.

"Where do you think he's going?" asked Sean.

Michelle sat back down. "How should I know? I'm not the man's keeper."

"The man saved your life."

"And I thanked him for that, didn't I?"

"Before I go any further, am I getting close to the point where you usually tell me to go to hell?"

"Perilously close."

"I thought so." He turned back to the binder.

"I do love my father. And I loved my mother."

"I'm sure. And I know these things get complicated."

"I think my family wrote the book on complicated."

"Your brothers seem pretty normal."

"I guess I got all the issues."

"Why did you want to go back to the farmhouse?"

"I told you, I don't know."

"I've never known you to take an idle trip."

"First time for everything."

"Is that how you want to leave it with your dad?"

She gave him a look. "Exactly how am I leaving it?"

"Up in the air."

"Sean, my mother was murdered after apparently cheating on my dad. The woman who killed her almost killed me. My father saved my life, but there are issues there too, okay? In fact, for a while there I thought he'd been the one who killed her. So excuse me for being a little conflicted right now."

"I'm sorry, Michelle, you're right."

She laid down the binder she was holding and put her face in her hands. "No, maybe you're right. But I don't know how to deal with this, I really don't."

"Maybe you start with just talking to the guy. One-on-one, nobody else around."

"That sounds absolutely terrifying."

"I know it does. And you don't have to do it."

"But I probably do have to do it if I ever want to get past this." She stood. "Can you take over going through these? I'm going to try and find my dad."

"Any idea where he might've gone?"

"I think so."