JAG Headquarters
1720 Local

Waiting impatiently in his office, he drummed his fingers on the desk. Where the hell was she? He’d left messages on her home phone and her cell. Stifling his immediate feeling of panic, he’d try to convey concern without appearing unduly alarmed. What he’d actually said was “Mac, what happened? Where did you go? Call me, please, and let me know what’s going on.”

What he meant was ‘What the HELL is going on with you? Get your ass home to me NOW!’ He was fairly certain that that particular message would not be received favorably. So he’d opted for the more civil message.

Actually, he’d called several times, but had only left one message on each. If he left numerous messages she’d only become defensive. She was probably going to be defensive as it was. Fortunately the Admiral had not inquired as to her whereabouts, so he hadn’t had to come up with an excuse for her absence.

Sighing heavily, he rubbed his hands over his face, then picked up the video cassette on his desk. It was the security tape of the robbery. A phone call to Bigelow, the police detective handling the case, had secured him a copy as well as the case file. The tape had basically followed Mac’s story. He should know, he’d watched at least 3 times in spite of the fact that no clues were on it.

Once again he sighed. Bigelow had been so quick to wrap the case up he hadn’t investigated thoroughly. Well, he didn’t blame the detective; in spite of the fact the man was an ass. In this particular case, the bad guys were killed by one of the intended victims, an obvious case of self-defense.

The phone rang, making him jump. Praying it was Mac, he managed to sound professional, he hoped. “Commander Rabb.”

“Harm? It’s me, Mac.” As if he didn’t know.

Relief washed over him, and all thoughts of not appearing alarmed flew out the window. “Mac? Where the hell are you? Are you all right?” Her unexplained absence had conjured up all sorts of images, from her taking a drink to a horrible car accident. “I’ve been going crazy!”

She sounded so apologetic, so unlike her feisty marine self that he became even more worried. “I’m okay. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have run out like that…”

He cut her off impatiently. “Just tell me where you are.” He fully intended to go get her and force her to talk to him. This-whatever this was-had gone on long enough.

“Well, umm…” Embarrassed, she stuttered a little. “A…actually, I’m in Hanging Rock, WV.”

“Where?” What in hell was she doing there? And where was it?

“Hanging Rock, WV.” Giving a short laugh, she continued. “I…um…well…I needed to clear my head, but I just didn’t realize how far I was driving. Or how long it had been.”

There was a short silence as he tried to process the information. “You mean you just drove around for 3 hours? To West Virginia?” Try as he might, he couldn’t help sounding incredulous.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Now that was better. Impatience had crept into her tone.

But even though she sounded more like herself, he still couldn’t let go of his worry. “Mac, what is going on?”

“Nothing is going on. I just needed to get out for a minute.” Now the defensive attitude he’d been fearing appeared.

Still, he couldn’t seem to stop the words from coming out. “Nothing? Come on Mac, you disappeared in the middle of an interview! An interview you were conducting, I might add. Now something is going on with you, and I want to know what it is.” His attempt to keep the frustration out of his voice failed miserably.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, okay? It all just got to me, but I’m over it.” Her anger only seemed to fuel his. She could be so damn unreasonable!

“Over it? Over what? For God’s sake, Mac, talk to me!” Frustration made him harsher than he meant to appear.

“I just got upset! I’m sorry I ran out on you, but I’m fine. Now can we drop this please?”

Silently he counted to ten and returned to a more professional level. “We can drop it for now, but I need a better explanation than that, and you know it. Your problems are starting to affect our case.” Crap that was the wrong thing to say, even if it was the truth. Pissing her off more would solve nothing.

“My problems? Her voice rose in anger. “Because one time, when interviewing a witness I get upset? You can’t understand that?” Then her voice dropped dangerously low. “I think there has been a time or two that you have failed that test, Commander.”

He caved, despising himself for not being tougher, for not battling this out. “I know. I’m sorry, Mac, I just…well…I’m worried about you, okay?” He could hear her take a breath, and held his own, hoping he had averted the storm.

“I know. But I promise I’m okay now, and it won’t happen again. I’ll be back at work tomorrow morning on time.” Damn, she sounded drained now.

“Mac, why don’t you just come to my place tonight?” Maybe he could get her to talk to him, calm her down. “I’ll fix you something to eat.”

Tearful now, she answered him. “I can’t, Harm. I’m exhausted. I appreciate it, but I need to go home and just crawl into bed.”

“Are you okay to drive? Because I can come and get you…” Even as he offered this, he knew she would refuse. God damn all independent women everywhere. Why couldn’t she just accept help? Why couldn’t she just TALK to him?

“By the time you got here and drove me home it would be close to midnight. I’m just going to home and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She was practically pleading with him to let it go.

“Okay, but call me when you get home so I know you made it safely.” He cut off her automatic protest, anticipating the ‘I’m a marine speech’. “Just humor me. I’ll sleep better knowing you’re home.”

“Ok.”

“Talk to you in a little while”.

“Bye, Harm.”

He hung up the phone; mentally counting the number of times she said she was sorry. She never said she was sorry. And the whole thing with the interview, leaving in the middle of it, the tears…He was more convinced and more afraid that his suspicion was right. Mac just hadn’t been herself since the night of the attempted robbery. There had to be more there.

He put the tape in his VCR, sat back down, and pushed play. He’d already viewed it more than once, but watched it again, trying to get a clue as to what happened out of sight of the camera.

The tape followed Mac’s statement exactly. Mac entered the store, Little AJ on her hip. She poured herself a cup of coffee and stood by the unattended counter, presumably waiting for the cashier. Two men entered, one pulling a gun on Mac, who immediately turned so that Little AJ was away from the weapon. She put up no fight.

The cashier came out of a door, and the second man accosted her with a gun, forcing her to the cash register. Neither woman argued or struggled. Mac stood passively holding Little AJ while the cashier fumbled around emptying the cash register. It was then the men’s behavior changed from threatening to sexually aggressive.

The two men exchanged leers, looking both Mac and the girl over with disgusting expressions of lust. The one man behind the counter with the cashier fondled her, finally drawing a reaction from Mac. A reaction that was quickly put down by the second man holding a gun on her. A few moments later the two men pushed Mac and the girl towards the back, disappearing out of the eye of the camera.

Harm pushed fast forward, knowing there was nothing more except Mac, Little AJ, and the girl coming back without the men, using the phone, and then waiting for the police.

It was then that it hit him. He rewound the tape to the point where the group went to the back and checked the time at the bottom of the tape. Then he fast-forwarded again to the point where Mac, Little AJ, and the girl came out into the store and checked the time at the bottom of the tape. One hour and forty-six minutes had elapsed. The sick knot in his stomach twisted more. Oh God. He shut off the tape.

Quickly he pulled out Mac’s statement to the police, scanning quickly. Estimating time in his head, he quickly calculated how much time they should have been back there. Fifteen minutes, tops, for Mac to convince them to leave Casey alone. Another fifteen minutes for the attempted rape and shootings. Ten more minutes to calm Little AJ and Casey down. Ten more minutes just to be on the safe side. That’s a total of fifty minutes.

He put the report down, his hands shaking. Fifty minutes, a very generous estimate. There was no way it took almost 2 hours. Not unless Mac had left part of the story out. Oh God, he wanted to vomit.