Countdown

Annie almost had to laugh at Joe Donnally’s instant scowl. Trying to extricate her hand from Rose’s, she said, “Marines don’t look at each other that way, Rose.”

“Oh, pshaw!” Rose said with a good-natured chuckle. “Marines think they’re perfect. Well, they almost are, in my book, but they keep forgetting they’re human, too.” She looked at her watch. “It’s noon. How about we go over to the enlisted men’s club and grab a bite to eat? I’m dying to talk with you, and maybe I can fill you in on what we do around here to help ease you into your job.”

Annie could have kissed her in gratitude at that point. She glanced up at her superior. “Sergeant Donnally?”

“You do what you want,” he growled. “Just be back at 1300, and I’ll get you squared away with a desk assignment and your duties.”

His coldness hit Annie like a slap after Rose’s gushing warmth, but she merely nodded, suppressing her feelings. When Donnally turned and stalked back to his desk, Annie devoted her attention to Rose.

“I’d love to have lunch with you. Any help you can give me will be great.”

“Oh, wonderful!” The secretary clapped her hands together and grinned. “You don’t know how much I’ve heard about you, Annie! Your ability to track is legendary. You’re famous!”

“I just want to fit in here, Rose, and get along with everyone—despite my skills.” With a grimace, she glanced around, catching quick, curious looks from other brig chasers in the office, feeling their perusal of her. Her reputation generally preceded her, and Annie had gotten used to being minutely inspected. Too many times in the past she had met male marines with their noses out of joint, unwilling to believe a woman could be a tracker.

“Well, I’m gonna grab my purse, then I’ll drive you over to the club,” Rose continued excitedly. “They’ve got great hamburgers over there. Come on! I’ve got lots to tell you. I want you to know,” she said as she gestured for Annie to follow her into her office, “that you’ve got one of the finest officers in the world to work for. Captain Ramsey is such a sweet man.”

Annie waited in Rose’s office doorway, her hands clasped in front of her. Sweet wasn’t a word she’d use for any Marine Corps officer! But Rose obviously was an ebullient, vital force in this office, and Annie knew she worked directly with Ramsey. Glancing over her shoulder, she stole a look in Donnally’s direction. He was sitting at his desk, scowling as usual, the telephone receiver pressed to his ear with one hand, a stack of phone messages in the other.

It struck her that despite Donnally’s bulk and height, he had artistic-looking hands that spoke of a different side to his character. Was he an artist of some sort? she wondered. Perhaps he played a musical instrument? Painted? She tore her gaze from Donnally’s rugged profile and smiled to herself. Somehow, she couldn’t picture Joe as a painter—although he’d certainly displayed an artist’s stereotypical volatile temperament so far with her.

“You ready?” Rose asked, coming around her desk with her white purse slung over her shoulder.

Annie smiled and stepped aside. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? Pshaw!” Rose wagged her finger in Annie’s face. “Young lady, you call me Rose or nothing at all! I don’t want any of that military jargon used on me! I’m a civilian, remember?”

With a laugh, Annie agreed, feeling welcomed, if only by the lone civilian in the office, to her new home for the next three years. The single fly in the ointment—and it was a considerable one—was the scowling Joe Donnally, who made it more than obvious that she wasn’t welcome at all on his turf.

Chapter Two

EM Clubs traditionally were noisy and crowded at noontime, and Annie was grateful when Rose decided to drive over to the base cafeteria instead. Once they’d selected their lunches, she found them a quiet corner.

“I think it’s wonderful that Captain Ramsey got you transferred here,” Rose said again as she sat down.

Annie smiled briefly and sipped her iced tea. “It’s sure a change from North Carolina.”

Rose waved her hand, then took a bite of her tuna sandwich. “Isn’t it, though? Camp Reed has three temperatures—hot, hotter and hottest.”

Laughing, Annie relaxed more. She liked Rose’s easygoing nature. “I think I’ll adjust. I was born in the New Mexico desert.”

Her eyes twinkling, Rose said, “That’s right—the captain mentioned that you were Navajo. I haven’t met too many Native American marines. What prompted you to enlist?”

“My grandfather was a code talker in World War II. He saw that I was restless, that I wanted to see more of the world than the reservation I grew up on.”

“So he figured a hitch in the corps would cure you?”

With a grin, Annie nodded. “Yes.”

“And it didn’t?”

“No. I signed up for a second one. I’ve been in six years.”

“Do you plan to get your twenty in and retire?”

“I hope to,” Annie agreed.

“Did you have to leave someone special behind at Camp Lejeune?”

For a moment, pain flitted across Annie’s heart, but she knew Rose was being kindly, not nosy. “Well…there was someone…but he died in Desert Storm.”

“Oh, dear,” Rose murmured, and reached out to touch Annie’s arm. “I’m so very sorry. Were you in Desert Storm, too?”

“Yes. We need provost-marshal and brig people in a wartime situation, too, I’m afraid.”

Frowning, Rose took a few stabs at her salad with her fork. “Were you married?”

“No, engaged. Jeff and I decided to wait until Storm was over to get married.” Annie shrugged, feeling the residual loss and pain filtering through her. “I guess it was the best decision. I don’t know….”

“My grandma always told me it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved.”

“Your grandmother was a wise woman.”

Rose smiled a little. “Well, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone here at Camp Reed.”

“No,” Annie murmured. “I made myself a promise never to get involved with another marine. I think a civilian man will be safer in the long run.”

“Now you sound like Libby Tyler—she’s a riding instructor here on the base. You know, I think Captain Ramsey really likes her. Joe is doing some preliminary investigating for Libby right now, as a matter of fact. She’s noticed that someone’s been riding five of the stable-owned horses nearly to death about once a month. She feels something fishy is going on, so Captain Ramsey sent Joe to check it out.” She paused in her monologue to take a sip of cola. “Libby was married to a marine helicopter pilot,” she explained, grimacing momentarily. “He died three years ago in a crash here at Reed, and since then she’s sworn off marines as potential mates.”

“I don’t blame her,” Annie said softly, feeling sympathetic pain for the unknown woman. “People in our line of work face more dangers than most.”

“I don’t agree,” Rose countered matter-of-factly. “I mean, I could be killed in a car crash on the way to work at this base on any given day. If marines follow the proper safety procedures, they don’t get hurt any more than your average human.”

“Except in case of war,” Annie amended wryly.

“Yes, but that’s the only exception.”

Annie finished her salad and started on her french fries. “Do you think our boss is serious about Ms. Tyler?” she asked, intrigued.

Rose grinned. “I think so.”

“Captain Ramsey was at Camp Lejeune when I first enlisted. I liked him a lot. He was a fair man who cared for the people who worked under his command.”

“Nothing’s changed that I can see,” Rose murmured. “But I have to tell you, the last commanding officer, Captain Jacobs, was a stinker. I felt sorry for the enlisted people who worked under him. He was a terrible manager and the entire brig section more or less collapsed under the weight of his mismanagement. If it hadn’t been for Joe Donnally, I think a lot worse could have happened.”

Annie’s heart raced momentarily. “Sergeant Donnally…”

“He’s quite a man, isn’t he?” Rose gushed.