353 a.m by Nick Pirog

Author:Nick Pirog [Pirog, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nick Pirog

CHAPTER 18

November 4, 2016

(Friday)

As I open my eyes, I realize Ingrid’s side of the bed is empty. Confused, I reach for the Post-it note on the bedside table and read her message. Went to St. Louis. Be back soon. XOXO.

Feeling uneasy, I grab my phone and listen to Ingrid’s three-minute voicemail describing her investigation into Daniel Mabrey, her shutting down the entire army base to delay the trial, her trip to the National Personnel Records Center, her discovery that Mabrey’s official file was missing, and her subsequent investigation into John Doe Soldier, whose file was also absent, but who had a previous incident of going AWOL.

Sergeant John Harmon Laurvick.

Her voicemail concluded by telling me to check my texts.

I quickly pull up her messages. The most recent was at 1:57 a.m., informing me she chartered a flight back to DC and would return in time for my father’s trial. The previous message was sent yesterday at 6:17 p.m. It’s a photo of Laurvick’s disciplinary report for when he went AWOL for three days in early 1971.

We now have the names of two soldiers who likely deserted Vietnam.

But we still have so many questions.

Was Mabrey's body, or Laurvick's, used to stage my father's death in 1971? And if that's the case, what happened to the other man involved? Was he abandoned in the jungle, his remains slowly decomposing amidst the dense foliage? Or is it possible that he's still alive?

Who is trying to cover this up by destroying files? Whose interests are they trying to safeguard? Where does my father fit into this intricate puzzle?

And perhaps the most baffling of all: Who is the emailer who provided the initial tip about Mabrey's connection to this complex web of secrets?

It’s too much for my brain.

I turn to Lassie, who’s lying on Ingrid’s pillow. “Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?”

Meow.

“You’re a changed cat?”

Meow.

“Your life flashed before your eyes yesterday?”

Meow.

“Yes, life is short.”

Meow.

“You have to let bygones be bygones?” I give him a scratch on the head. “I guess this means that you’ve forgiven Murdock?”

Meow.

“Who is Rebecca?”

Meow.

“What did she do to you?”

Meow.

“She ghosted you?”

Meow.

“Oh, gassed you?” I shake my head. “I told you to leave those skunks alone.” I give him a few more scratches. “And you need to forgive Murdock.”

Meow.

“Three more days?” I scoff. “I thought you just said you were a changed cat.”

I give him one last rub, then head to the kitchen. Isabel has been by, and I grab two stuffed peppers. I devour them cold in under two minutes, then grab a piece of computer paper and get to work.

I begin by drawing a rudimentary bubble diagram with the names of all known involved parties: my dad, Brennenstuhl, Alvarado, Preece, Yarbrough, Henning, Mabrey, Laurvick, and the anonymous emailer. But as I start connecting the bubbles, I hit a roadblock. My brain won’t cooperate. It’s stagnant. It’s been three days since I’ve exercised, and all the good chemicals in my brain are caged.

I pull on my sneakers. As I head to the door, I’m not surprised that Lassie wants to tag along.

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