My attention focused straight ahead at her kitchen table. My adrenaline spiking, I reacted quickly and grabbed her arm, pulling her back into the hallway and away from the door.

“What the hell, Tyler?!” she exclaimed. “What’s gotten into you?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you still freaked out about what happened…?” She raised her eyebrows, giving me a knowing look.

“That’s not it, Mackenzie.” I glanced back into her apartment, bile rising in my throat. Swallowing it down, I hoped she couldn’t see how unnerved I really was.

“Then what is it? I can handle it.”

Shaking my head, I pulled her close to me, trying to do everything I could to protect her from the knowledge I now had. “I don’t think you can handle this one.”

“It’s my condo,” she insisted. “I have a right to know what’s got your panties in a bunch.”

“I know. I promise to tell you exactly what’s in there, but please don’t go inside. No one should have to see this. I’m begging you.”

She glanced up at me, her eyes glistening with worry. “What is it?” she whispered. “Is it Meatball?”

“No, Mackenzie. It’s not Meatball.”

“Then what is it?”

I took a deep breath. “It’s Charlie, Mackenzie. He’s…” I hesitated and ran my hand over my face.

“He’s what, Tyler?” she asked in an unsteady tone, trying to fight against me.

I remained silent and peeked at her open door once more, unsure of how I could even explain what was in there without her wanting to see it for herself.

“He’s what, Tyler?” she asked again, her voice louder and growing irate.

Letting out a long sigh, my shoulders slumped forward. “He’s dead, Mackenzie.”

She violently shook her head and pushed against me, bolting into the condo before I could stop her.

“Mackenzie, don’t!”

Stumbling, I tried to pull her away, but it was too late. Her scream echoed against the barren walls and she threw herself onto Charlie as he sat hunched over at her kitchen table, a Beretta M9 loosely held in his hand. His face was almost indistinguishable from the gunshot to his head, and I hesitated to get any closer to see the wound.

At first glance, it appeared Charlie had committed suicide, the blood spray pattern on the light gray walls of Mackenzie’s condo confirming my suspicions. She had feared that Charlie’s last phone call was to say goodbye. I hated that she was right. I hated that she had to see this. Most of all, I hated that I had no idea what to say to comfort her right now.

“Wake up, Charlie!” she begged, shaking his body, obviously uncaring that she was covering herself with his blood. “Please,” she cried out, her plight heartbreaking to watch.

I went to her and placed my hand on her shoulder. She snapped her head to look at me, her mascara streaking down her cheeks. She heaved through her sobs, almost unable to breathe. Over the months, I had seen her highs and lows, convinced I had been there for the lowest of her lows, but I was wrong. This woman in front of me was torn in two, heartbroken, confused, bitter, angry, and a thousand other emotions I couldn’t even label. This was a woman who had forgiven Charlie, who chose to see beyond the image everyone else wanted to paint him as, and my heart went out to her. With each tear that streamed down her face, I could almost sense her starting to lose hope in finally getting the happy ending she deserved. And I began to feel it, too.

Instead of pulling her away so she didn’t contaminate what could be a crime scene, I squeezed her shoulder in a compassionate manner. “I’ll give you a minute.”

She nodded and mouthed, Thank you, her chin trembling. She returned her attention to Charlie, resting her head on his knee, her sobs rolling through her body once more. Retreating from her, I couldn’t help but think that something about this didn’t sit right with me. Was Charlie really the type of person who would kill himself? I didn’t know much about him, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t what it seemed. Nothing in this case was.

As I looked back at Charlie’s body, I surveyed the pattern of the blood on the wall from where he had supposedly shot himself in the head. It seemed off. It was low…too low, as if someone was standing over him and pulled the trigger.

Disarming the alarm that was now going off, I grabbed my cell out of the pocket of my cargo pants. “Eli, I need you to come over to Mackenzie’s condo as quickly as possible. Charlie’s dead.” I hung up, not wanting to say anything else, unsure of what the truth was.

The next several hours were a flurry of activity as law enforcement officers and forensic analysts swarmed the scene, asking question after question… Questions we couldn’t answer. Mackenzie simply remained sitting on the floor, refusing to look away as the coroner removed Charlie from the kitchen table and wheeled him out on a gurney, a white sheet covering his body.

“Wait a minute,” she said just as they were about to leave with him. Springing to life, she bolted down the hallway toward her bedroom, rummaging through the chest where she kept her father’s Victoria Cross. She came back carrying a folded American flag. Eli and I responded quickly, helping her unfold it and place it over his body.

As they began pushing the gurney down the hallway once more, Eli and I stepped back, snapping to attention and saluting, giving him the hero’s goodbye I knew, deep down, he deserved.

~~~~~~~~~~

THAT EVENING, I BROUGHT Mackenzie back to my house. I had Eli and Martin collect as many of her belongings as they could so she never had to step foot in that condo again. Meatball was a little unsure of his surroundings, but once he realized Griffin was more scared of him than he was of the dog, they got along famously, even within the span of just a few hours.

“Why don’t you get some rest?” I told Mackenzie after I got out of the shower and saw her in the same exact position she had been in since we had gotten here…sitting in the bay window, overlooking the channel behind the house.

“No,” she said evenly, still in shock. “I need to call his aunt and uncle, let them know what’s happened.”

“I’ll do it. Just get me their information and I’ll make all the phone calls you need me to. You need to try to think about something else for a minute…”

“Think about something else?” she sobbed, tilting her head to look at me. “How? How can I possibly be expected to think about anything else right now? He warned me this was going to happen and what did I do?”

“Mackenzie, you can’t–”

“Nothing!” she exclaimed. “I told him to be smart, and that’s it. I should have pushed him harder to stay hidden…”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” I urged, pulling her body into mine. “Don’t bury yourself in that guilt. You didn’t pull the trigger. I burdened myself with guilt after Melanie died, despite telling my friends and family that the only person to blame was behind bars. But for the longest time, I went to bed thinking I could have done something to prevent it. It took me years to realize I couldn’t. I forced myself to live with that guilt and I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone, so don’t you dare do that to yourself. There’s nothing you could have done to stop this. I promise you, we will find the bastard responsible and he will pay. Okay?”

“But what if Agent Suarez rules it a suicide? That’s the way he was leaning when he examined the crime scene. No one seems to believe that Charlie just wouldn’t kill himself. They keep bringing up his record at Walter Reed, not even examining the evidence because he was a schizophrenic who had been off his meds for too long. What if they don’t look harder?”

“They will,” I assured her, having doubts myself, but I didn’t let on. “And if they don’t, we will.”

She studied me for a protracted moment, then nodded and returned her attention to the window, staring outside once more. I wished there was something I could do or say to make her feel better about all this.