Chapter 2
The room grew so quiet that the electronic drip monitor on the wall sounded like a ticking detonator. Dolores, the charge nurse, halted mid-stride in the corridor, her sharp, experienced eyes darting from Ava’s pale face to the terrifying silhouette of the injured SEAL sitting on the bed.
"Ava," Jake said, his voice dropping into a register that made the window glass hum. "Look at me."
Ava didn't look at him. She dropped to her knees beside the bed, wrapping her arms around Nora’s waist and pulling the child against her chest with frantic, trembling possessiveness. "Nora, sweetie, give the gentleman back his hand. Come on, baby, let Mommy have the necklace."
"No! It’s Daddy’s shiny!" Nora protested, squirming against her mother's desperate embrace, her little brow crumpling. "Daddy left it for me!"
Jake didn't let go of the chain. His grip remained locked, anchoring the chain between his fingers and the child’s small chest. "Ava. Dover sent back a sealed casket with sixty pounds of limestone and a dental fragment. I personally packed Ethan's locker at Coronado. This tag was never inventoried."
"It was in a personal effects trunk," Ava whispered, her brown eyes wide, glassy with terror. "It arrived six months after the memorial. That’s all. Please, Lieutenant Navarro, let go. You're frightening her."
"Don't lie to me," Jake snarled softly, his jaw muscle flexing like iron cordage. "Ethan wore two tags on missions. Standard operating procedure. The secondary tag was taped to his left boot; it burned when the fuel bladder ignited. The primary tag—this tag—was wrapped around my tourniquet when we pulled his remains from the rubble."
Dolores stepped into the room, her voice steady but cautious. "Lieutenant, you need to lower your voice. This is a recovery floor."
"With all due respect, ma'am, stay out of this," Jake said, never taking his eyes off Ava. He flipped the dog tag over, exposing the underside to the fluorescent overhead light. "Look at the notch, Ava. The oxidation on the steel has four years of sea brine and dust. But this scratch across the blood-type stamp? It cuts right through the patina. The burr on the metal is razor-sharp. It was gouged with a tungsten scribe no more than two days ago."
Ava choked back a dry sob, burying her face into Nora’s soft blonde hair.
"Mommy, why are you crying?" Nora asked, her tiny hand reaching up to pat Ava’s tear-stained cheek. "Did Mister Grumpy hurt your feelings?"
"No, baby... no, he didn't," Ava stammered, her voice shaking uncontrollably.
"Where did she get it, Ava?" Jake demanded, leaning forward until his shadow completely enveloped them both. "Tell me right now, or I swear to God I will lock down this entire facility under military jurisdiction."
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Ava lifted her head, her gaze finally meeting his. The grief in her eyes was suffocating, but beneath it lay a paralyzing, immediate terror.
"It wasn't in any trunk," Ava whispered, her throat constricting. "It was in Nora’s cubby at the hospital daycare. I found it when I picked her up thirty minutes ago."
