My Soldier Too Read online

  For K.C. It’s because of you that I know true love. And for all of the gay and lesbian members of the military who serve our country so valiantly.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, locales and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  MY SOLDIER TOO

  Copyright © 2011 by Bev Prescott

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, save for brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews.

  Cover design by Ann Phillips

  A Blue Feather Book

  Published by Blue Feather Books, Ltd.

  www.bluefeatherbooks.com

  ISBN: 978-1-935627-81-4

  First edition: May, 2011

  Acknowledgements

  On rare moments, a particular individual crosses our path and we know instantly that person will be a friend forever. My buddy, Lee, you are certainly one of those special people. Thank you for sharing this journey with me. I’ll always treasure your friendship.

  I owe big thanks to Liane, Linda, and Tracy for being patient readers of the very rough first draft of My Soldier Too. Your encouragement and friendship helped propel me forward. Thanks also to Martha and Amy for your advice on all things Army.

  To Jane Vollbrecht, my editor, you are one awesome lady. Thank you so much for teaching me that creating a book is like building a house. One has to have more than a good foundation because the fine details of the trim work are what readers will notice first. You are the best, and I’ll forever be grateful to you for having faith in me. I’m privileged to have you as my editor as well as a friend.

  To Emily Reed, thank you for giving me the opportunity to join the Blue Feather Books family. I hope this book is just the beginning of a long, productive partnership of creating stories we can be proud of. Thanks for seeing the potential in me.

  Finally, to my beloved, K.C., thank you for always loving and supporting me in all of my endeavors. You are truly my best friend, and my heart will always belong to you.

  Chapter 1

  Isabella Parisi hesitated outside the William J. Pepine Veterans’ Shelter. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to see a ragged man slumped on the bench by the entryway of the stark concrete building. But something about this guy was different. He lifted his shaggy gray head. She looked into his eyes and saw nothing there but blackness. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Her instinct was to run, but Isabella had a job to do and wouldn’t let this despondent stranger intimidate her.

  She took a step toward him. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. Why don’t you come inside where you can get warm? It’s awfully cold to be sitting out here.”

  “My heart burns in the fires of war.” His expression was blank and his tone flat. “The cold can’t touch me.” He inhaled deeply and let out a breath that appeared more like smoke in the frigid February air.

  Isabella shuddered. She hoped he hadn’t noticed. His stare was so frightening that she glanced away, fixing her eyes instead on the plain block letters above the entryway of the Boston shelter. She looked at him again. “All right then. But if you’re still here after my appointment this morning, maybe we could talk for a while.”

  He sighed, turned his eyes back toward the ground, and didn’t say another word.

  Isabella gathered her courage and calmly finished making her way up the steps past him, a little faster than she normally would have. When she reached for the glass door, it was opened wide from inside by Ben Jackson, an attorney from the law firm of Galliano, Lawton, and Simpson. Ben and the other lawyers in his firm were required to do a certain amount of pro bono work each month. Isabella suspected he did his at the shelter, not because of any particular interest he had in helping its residents, but because it was an opportunity to win favor with her.

  “Good morning, sweetheart. You surprised to see me? Didn’t you get my text?” Ben asked.

  The handsome, well-groomed young lawyer was the last person she’d expected to see at the shelter. After her interaction with the man outside, she was relieved to see his friendly face.

  “No, I haven’t had a chance to check messages yet. It’s been a crazy morning. Did one of the guys get into trouble again?” Isabella stepped across the threshold.

  “No, none of your fellows did anything to require my assistance this time. Court got cancelled this morning. Since I was nearby, I thought maybe we could go for a quick cup of coffee.” Ben gestured toward the door he was still holding open. When she didn’t answer, he followed with, “Come on, what do you say? What could be more important than us starting our day together?”

  “I can’t, Ben. David Cutter has a doctor’s appointment this morning.”

  “I’ll go with you. I need to talk with him anyway about his being a witness at Carl Woods’s upcoming sentencing hearing.”

  She tried to hide the frustration in her voice. “This isn’t a good time. I’ve got lots of other commitments today already.”

  “I thought getting Carl into a drug treatment program instead of jail is what you wanted.”

  “Of course it is, but—” Before Isabella could finish her statement, the hulking man who’d been on the bench outside lunged through the still open door. He grabbed her from behind into a tight bear hug and lifted her off of her feet like a rag doll.

  A rush of fear shot through her. She hadn’t noticed the man’s size until she was helpless in his grip. Now, she was acutely aware of his powerful arms that threatened to squeeze the life out of her.

  He put his lips next to her ear and whispered, “They broke me, and now I’m going to break you, my little bluebird.”

  His unkempt, filthy beard brushed the back of her neck. Ignoring his foul breath, she fought the impulse to panic. She needed to stay calm and rely on her training to resolve the situation. She concentrated on keeping her breathing even. “I know you’re upset, but all I want to do is help you. If you let go of me, we can talk.”

  Ben squared his shoulders and glared at the man. He bristled with anger. Before she could tell him to stay out of the situation, he gritted his teeth and ordered, “Put her down. Now.”

  The command fanned the man’s rage. He took a step away from Ben, dragging Isabella with him, and roared, “You bastard, do you know what I do with my little birds? I crush them, and then…” He slowly licked Isabella’s cheek. “I eat them.”

  Isabella was terrified. What awful demons clawed at the fringes of his mind? What were those demons capable of? To get away, she needed to nudge him toward a moment of clarity. She had to get him talking.

  Ben’s jaw clenched and his body tightened. Just before he lunged for the man, Isabella spoke forcefully. “Back off, Ben, and give us some space. I can handle this.”

  The man jeered in Ben’s direction. “See? My little prize doesn’t need her white knight in shining armor.”

  Ben pointed a finger at him. “If you so much as harm a hair on her head, I’ll make sure you’re locked up for the rest of your life.”

  “You think I give a damn?” The man laughed. “I’m already in hell.”

  A large gathering of shelter residents had formed around them. To Isabella’s relief, one of the men grabbed Ben by the elbow and said, “Leave it alone. The General is here. He and Isabella will take care of this.”

  An old man with a pronounced limp in his left leg approached, and the crowd parted like the Red Sea, as if Moses himself had come down and beckoned them to break ranks.

  The man wore a tattered green fatigue jacket and pants. Even though his clothes were frayed and old, they were clean and his shirttails were tucked neatly into his trousers. His pure white hair was cut in military style. He carried him
self with pride as he drew nearer to Isabella and the man.

  With a piercing stare and slow southern drawl, the old veteran, formerly Sergeant David Cutter but now known as the General, eyed the man and asked, “Son, what the hell do you think you’re doing manhandling Isabella? I suggest you put her down now, ever so gently. If you don’t, I will personally see to it that you never lay a hand on another woman for the rest of your days.”

  The General waited for his words to register. “I am the commanding officer here. That was a direct order.” He took another step toward Isabella’s captor. “You listen to me. Back during the war, I ate men meaner and bigger than you for breakfast. Not that I wouldn’t like to, but don’t think for a second I have to deal with you on my own.” The General cocked his head toward the onlookers. “You see those boys over there? All I have to do is give them the word, and they’ll be on you like a pack of wolves. You hear me, boy?”

  A long moment passed. The man loosened his hold on Isabella. “I wish it all would go away… I want to forget, but I can’t.”

  The General’s voice softened. “Son, I know what you’re going through. But this isn’t the way. You need to let Isabella go. She’s not the enemy. Let her be, so she can help you. I promise she’ll try as best she can. You won’t find a better ally than her.”

  The man lowered Isabella and dropped his arms from around her. Her feet no more than touched the floor when four police officers rushed in and tackled him. Instead of putting up a fight, he curled into the fetal position and sobbed. The officers slapped handcuffs on his wrists.

  Instantly, deep sadness replaced Isabella’s fear. The sight of a devastated, homeless veteran being handcuffed and hauled away was all too familiar to her. He probably wasn’t a bad man, but rather one trapped in memories of war too powerful to overcome. Isabella said, “I hope you’ll consider taking him to a hospital instead of jail. He needs psychiatric care before he hurts himself or someone else.”

  The officer in charge said, “Of course, but first we have to take him to the station for booking. You know the routine. Once that’s done, we’ll take him over to Boston Central for a medical evaluation.” He motioned for the other officers to escort the man from the building.

  After the officers had left the shelter, Isabella spoke to the General. “Thank you.” Not only had he possibly saved her life, he’d reminded her again how important her job was. Even though her work was a constant uphill battle, she was fortunate to know people like him and his men and to be in a position to try to help them.

  The General took a black baseball cap out of his jacket pocket and put it on his head. The hat was embroidered with the words “Vietnam Veteran” in gold below a gold wreath surrounding a military ribbon that signified the war. He tipped his hat to Isabella. To the crowd of residents surrounding them he said, “All right, boys. The excitement’s over. Give Isabella some room to breathe. Go on your way now.”

  Ben hurried to her as the men dispersed. “That son of a bitch. Are you all right? I was so afraid he was going to hurt you.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “Your coming here alone is completely unacceptable. Quite frankly, I think it borders on negligence for Social Services to send you here by yourself.”

  Isabella moved away from him and crossed her arms. As much as she valued his friendship, his touch suddenly made her feel claustrophobic. “Ben, I’m fine. This is part of my job, and I’m really in no mood for a lecture.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you. That’s all. I really think you should be accompanied by a guard or another social worker when you come here.” He lowered his voice. “I’d be lost without you.”

  “Why do you always have to make things be about you? I don’t need a security guard, another social worker, or you when I come here. All I need is to be more careful and have the space to do my work. You certainly didn’t give me that by interfering.”

  “I’m sorry. Of course this isn’t about me. It’s about making sure you stay safe. These people can be dangerous. What if he had injured you, or worse?” Ben caressed her arm. “Why don’t you let me take you home? You deserve the morning off after being attacked by a madman.”

  Isabella tried to stifle her growing impatience. “I’m not going home. The General has an appointment at the Veterans Affairs clinic, and I intend to take him. I’d also like to point out that he’s one of ‘these people,’ as you called them. Yet, he’s the one who managed to talk that guy out of doing anything drastic.”

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said it that way. You can’t blame me for being worried about you though.”

  Isabella tried to lighten the mood. “I appreciate your concern, really I do. But I’ve got work to do. Besides, it’s not the end of the world to be squeezed and licked on the cheek by a guy who’s down on his luck. Granted, it would’ve been nice if he’d asked first, but there was no harm done. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go wash up a little. You really should get back to work. I’ll call you later, I promise.” She kissed his cheek.

  “I don’t know why you always stick up for these guys. I hope you know what’s best.” Ben shook his head. “Someday, you’re going to realize you can’t save them all.”

  “I’m not that naïve, Ben. I wish you’d give me credit for knowing how to do my job.”

  “It’s not that I don’t think you can. It’s that your work is dangerous no matter how good you are.”

  Isabella sighed. “You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

  “Am I?” Ben asked as he opened the door to leave. Beth Adams, in a rush, crashed into him on his way out.

  “Hi, Ben. Excuse me.” Beth tried to push past him. “I got here as soon as I could. We got a call that Isabella was in an altercation with a resident. Is she okay?”

  “So that’s what you call it over there at Social Services, an altercation? Isabella could’ve been killed. After all the time you’ve worked there, you should know better than to send a woman alone into harm’s way. You’re supposed to be looking out for her.”

  “Isabella is a professional. She’s perfectly capable of making a determination herself whether a situation warrants having someone with her. I trust her judgment, and so should you.”

  “That’s not the point.” He brushed her aside and stormed out.

  Beth stared at him as he stomped away. Under her breath she mumbled, “Pompous, patronizing ass.”

  “I heard that,” Isabella said, hiding a smirk.

  Beth went to her. “Sorry about that. I didn’t see you standing there.” She set her briefcase on the floor and hugged Isabella. “What happened? Are you all right?”

  Isabella felt the eyes of the remaining men in the lobby on her. “I’m fine. Do you mind if we talk in the ladies’ room? I’d like to wash up.”

  “No, not at all.” Beth followed Isabella into the privacy of the restroom. “Do you know the guy who attacked you?” she asked, once they were behind the closed door.

  Isabella turned on the faucet and put her hands under the water. “I don’t think he’s a resident here. I’ve never seen him before. He grabbed me when I turned my back to him to come inside. He came a lot closer to hurting me than I’d like to admit. He rattled me at first, but I’m okay.” She wet a paper towel and washed her cheek. She dried her face and her hands with another paper towel. “I’ll follow up with the police later. They said they’d take him to the hospital. Given his age, he’s probably a Gulf War veteran suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, the old PTSD. I should’ve listened to my instincts when I first saw him. Something about him didn’t feel right.”

  “Desperate men do desperate things. Don’t beat yourself up over it. You can’t always predict what might happen. That comes with the territory. Be careful, and rely on your instincts and training. That’s all you can do. If you’d like to take the rest of the day off, I can find someone to cover.”

  “I appreciate the offer, and I might have taken you up on it if the General didn’t ha
ve a doctor’s appointment this morning. He’s the one who talked the guy into letting me go. He kept the situation from getting out of hand, so I don’t want to break my commitment to him about going with him to the doctor. Besides, he hasn’t been feeling well lately. I’m worried about him. You know he won’t go unless I walk with him.”

  “That man will be walking wherever he goes until his last days. PTSD sure does have a funny way of manifesting itself sometimes,” Beth said.

  “Yeah, forty-three years after the ambush of his squad in Vietnam, and he still refuses to ever ride in any kind of vehicle. I wish I could find a way to convince him to let go of the ghosts of the soldiers who died that day.”

  “We can’t know how awful that must have been for him to see his friends die. At least he has you to accommodate his phobias and look out for him. Any luck getting him to agree to being placed in the veterans’ home yet?” Beth asked.

  “No. He still refuses to leave the other guys. Too bad we can’t figure out how to get them all off the street and into proper care. As for being lucky, I feel pretty lucky to have him as a friend.” Isabella gathered her belongings. “Hey, shouldn’t you be home packing for your trip this weekend with Marcy?”

  “Yeah, but I needed to stop and pick up a few files to take with me. While I was at the office, I got a call that you were in trouble. So I came right over.”

  “Thanks for checking on me. You better get going, though. Marcy may be your devoted and forgiving partner, but I bet she wouldn’t be too happy if you miss your flight. Or that you’re taking work along.”

  “The good news is that, after twenty years together, she won’t be surprised at all if I bring work with me or if we have to race through the airport to get to our gate. When you’ve been together as long as we have, you learn some things never change. By the way, what was Ben’s problem? I know he must have been worried, but he seemed awfully cranky. Is everything all right between you two?”