TWENTY-EIGHT
Sitting in the cabin near the forest’s edge at the Gallatin Motel and Cabins where he was staying, Chance was officially out of funds, but he couldn’t go back to his life until he resolved the missing package.
Blevins had been paid to forget.
But Chance had chosen to forget.
What had Blevins meant? He hadn’t given him the opportunity to find out, because he left the bar when a deputy entered. Chance had remained in the booth until he could exit without being noticed. He had to find out who had been behind the package, behind the years of blackmail, before he was found and blocked from getting answers and preventing more loss of life.
Years of blackmail. Why didn’t he put an end to it long ago?
Palms sweating, Chance repeatedly clenched his hands as he stood up and began to pace. He’d tried to avoid thinking about what had happened before. He’d pushed that far behind him and moved on. Carved out a new life.
Except his eyes were suddenly opened to the truth. He’d deceived himself for far too long. His past remained a constant knocking in the dark corners of his mind. But he’d already paid for his crimes. A higher price had been exacted than he ever could have imagined.
One mistake. One errant thought had led to a few misdeeds and cost him everything.
And he didn’t want to think about any of it.
But if he could remember every detail of the past, that could help him solve what was happening now. He knew in his gut this was true.
He had to find whoever had blackmailed him all those years ago and coerced him into making a few shipments now and again, controlling his life and taking everything from him.
He’d been afraid to refuse to cooperate before. Afraid and stupid.
That was then. This was now.
He was older, maybe a little wiser.
Chance pulled the curtains open and let the greenery of the forest calm him. He was safe, and no one would find him here. Resting on the double bed, he stared at the log ceiling. He closed his eyes and thought back to his life-altering mistake almost twenty years ago.
The memory of the thrumming rotors on the AH-64 Apache he’d piloted for the Army’s 11th Aviation Regiment filled his head. A city was sprawled beneath him when he’d been expecting desert. After the initial “shock and awe” of the campaign, the desert became his constant companion—one of the hottest places he’d ever had the displeasure of enduring.
Chance sat up on the edge of the creaking bed and rubbed his eyes.
His head still ached from the plane crash. He wasn’t sure it would ever go away, but thinking back to those years increased the throbbing.
He inhaled deeply. He could do this. He had to do this.
“Oh, God, why was I so stupid?”
Chance forced his thoughts to that moment in time. That moment when he’d made the wrong choice. At the time, it had seemed innocent enough.
Even now, at the memory, he could taste the desert sand on his tongue.