Page 47 of Shephard
“Is he not Shephard Fox?”
“Yeah, he was born with that name. His father is Dexter Fox, his mother is Sally, and he has two brothers, Jagger and Hunter. For the most part, they grew up in Montana. But they moved there when Shephard was six and he’s the oldest by a few years. Until then, there’s nothing on the family. I mean nothing.”
“O-kay. They were running from something?” I was still letting my imagination fly.
“Maybe. But I even contacted someone in WITSEC because my spidey senses were piqued. Nothing.”
Witness Protection. Breaking that veil for any family could be dangerous. “Okay, let’s just concentrate on Shephard. What about his background?”
“There’s evidence of him joining the Marines. I was even able to find out he won the Medal of Honor.”
“Well, then he’s a good guy.”
“Except the records indicate he’s dead. Died in battle in Afghanistan.”
The news didn’t necessarily hit me hard. Of course I knew with the violence and bloodshed in third world countries, dog tags could be accidentally switched at any time. However, the fact he was walking, talking, and a part of his family here meant that couldn’t be the case. Unless it was straightened out and the records didn’t reflect that.
“Black Ops? Something even more clandestine in operations?”
“You know better than to push into that sector. Not only would you be shut down, but you’ll be watched from here on out. And not in a good way.”
“That’s an old wives’ tale,” I told him.
“Bullshit. Maybe this dude was working for the government. Maybe he fabricated his early demise only to find resurrection to work with a foreign government. I don’t know and you need to walk away. My gut tells me he’s dangerous.”
At least I knew his tattoo told no lies.
What I also could tell was that my friend was spooked. And I’d never seen him spooked, even when facing a crack addict wielding a machete. He’d managed to disarm the man without a single drop of blood being shed.
“I can handle myself, Bear. You know it.”
“Yeah? I know that, but you’re out of practice.”
“Speak for yourself!”
He laughed, but I sensed his concern. “I just don’t want you hurt. You’re a good kid.”
“Kid? You’re two years older.”
“And I feel every month of it too.”
We both laughed and I knew he anticipated me asking about my ex. Bear had been the only pipeline for information. I refused to, even if my skin was itching to do so. The fucker didn’t deserve the time of day. “I do appreciate everything you found, Bear. If anything else pops up, give me a call. I should get back to work. It’s tourist season out here.”
“When isn’t it tourist season, girl? I’d love to see the place. Who knows. Maybe I’ll retire out there in a couple years.”
“You’re going to work until you’re eighty in that joint. You know it.”
Just hearing his voice made me crave my old job and the beautiful home I’d created. Until a big, fat fire had consumed nearly everything I’d owned.
Out of revenge.
Not proven of course. Nope. That’s what political clout and an influential family did for a son of a bitch.
“You know me far too well.” His laugh was more stilted than before. “How’s your dad?”
Dad had moved to Virginia when he’d divorced my mother when I was only five. Since then, he’d been an absentee dad, acting as if he didn’t have any responsibilities for his daughter. Part of that had been the time he’d spent in prison. A further indication he was an asshole. I’d learned to hate him, refusing to see him the very few times he’d asked to visit with me.
No one could ever say I’d mellowed as a human being, my hard edge forged by the tough times my mother and I went through as well as the ugly relationship I’d found myself embroiled in.