The Last Hour (Thompson Sisters) by Sheehan-Miles, Charles (ebook reader online free .txt) 📗

Carrie was frantically dialing her cell phone, and pacing.

“Listen, why don’t we get together for a drink and talk about it.”

“We’re not getting together for shit, Sherman. You fucked us all. If we’d said something a year ago it would have been different. But we didn’t. You’re just as guilty of that as I am.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said.

“Fuck off,” he said. “I’m doing the only thing I can now.” I heard, low in the background, the sound of a round being chambered in a pistol.

“Martin, you don’t have to do this!”

“Yeah, whatever. Tell that to my kid. Tell that to fucking Kowalski.”

The shot when it came was eerie, a clicking sound, and I heard the shell eject from his pistol. The sound was too loud to be picked up by the microphone on his phone. But I heard the pistol fall, and then the phone hit the floor.

I couldn’t help it. I let out a scream, and collapsed to the floor.

Come to Washington (Carrie)

Major Janice Smalls stood across the living room from Ray, pacing. She turned back toward him and said, “So, did he actually say he was going to commit suicide?”

Ray shrugged. It had taken me nearly twenty minutes to get him from the floor to the couch.

In my life, I’ve never seen a grown man break down and cry. But whatever Ray heard on that phone call had broken him. He’d stayed on the floor, slamming his fist into it, his face twisted in rage, with the most horrible choking sounds coming out of his mouth while I held him as tightly as I could. It was an ugly, deathly painful grief, and I’d have done anything in the world to take it away from him.

Now he sat, looking shell-shocked, his eyes unfocused, unclear, red-rimmed.

“I told him we should get together for a drink and talk about it. And he said ... we weren’t going anywhere but hell. I tried to keep him talking and on the line.”

He looked away from her. I passed to Smalls the pad of paper he’d written his note on. She looked at it and said, “So you called Major Elmore first?”

“Yes,” I said. “I didn’t know where Martin was, so I thought that made the most sense.”

She nodded. “It did. Martin was staying at the guest house at Fort Myers. Major Elmore got a hold of the base Provost Marshal’s office, but it was too late.”

She sighed then said, “What a waste.” Her voice was grim as she said the words.

She eyed the broken glass of the doorway, and the head that was sitting in the midst of it. “So what happened in here?”

Ray didn’t move, didn’t say anything. So I answered, “We’ve been under a little bit of stress. If anyone else ever asks this I’ll lie. But I threw the head at Ray.”

Her eyes went to the head, and back to me. “A little bit of stress,” she said with a sigh. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you’re having to go through this.”

Her sorry feelings weren’t going to do me or Ray any good.

She sighed again. “There’s really nothing you could have done, Sergeant. But what you did do was the right thing. I’ll get out of your way now. If we have any more questions, I’ll let you know. The Fort Myers Provost Marshall will do the investigation, but they asked me to come see you given the circumstances.”

She left, and I slid onto the couch next to Ray and put an arm around his waist.

“Are you going to be okay?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No.”

I winced. “Maybe you should come to bed.”

He nodded, and I half lifted him from the couch. He shuffled to our bedroom, and collapsed on the bed, still in uniform, and curled up on his side.

I’d never seen him like this. But then again, given the circumstances, what kind of shape would I be in? Slowly, I started to unlace his boots.

“No…” he said, struggling to a sitting position. “I’ve got that.”

“Shut up, Ray. Lie down.”

He collapsed onto his back, and I finished unlacing the boot and pulled it off, then started working on the other one. “You’ve said it over and over again,” I said. “We’ll get through this together. Okay? I’m right here.”

I got the other boot off of him and tossed it to the floor with a thump. Then I stood, and turned out the light, and slid onto the bed next to him and pulled his head to my shoulder.

The moment I did that his body started to shake in silent sobs again. And we stayed that way until his breathing evened out and I was sure he was asleep.

Then I slid out of the bed.

It was almost midnight, but right now that didn’t matter. I dialed my phone, and Alexandra answered.

“Hello?” she asked in a sleepy voice.

“Alexandra, I’m sorry to wake you. But I need to talk to Dylan right now. It’s urgent.”

She groaned, and a few seconds later I heard Dylan’s sleepy voice on the phone. “Hello?”

“Dylan, it’s Carrie. Listen ... I know this is crazy, but ... I need you to come to Washington. Tonight. Ray needs you.”

“What is it?” he asked. He was alert, near instantly.

I sighed. “Staff Sergeant Martin shot himself after testifying at the hearing today. He was on the phone with Ray when he did it.”

There was a short pause, and then Dylan said, “Fuck. Where’s Ray now?”

“Asleep.”

“I’m on my way. If I can catch a train tonight I’ll be there in the morning. Alex, you want to take a trip to DC?”

I had to suppress a sob. “Thank you, Dylan.”

“I told you before. I’d do anything for Ray. Just ... keep an eye on him, okay? I’ve got a pretty good idea of what’s probably going through his head right now, and it’s not pretty.”

“I will,” I said.

We hung up, and I walked back into the bedroom.

Ray had thrown the covers off the