Bob considered mentioning his own fears, but remained silent.
"I felt it was important to finally confront the past. I'd spent all these years living with what I'd done. I was up for a Congressional Committee appointment, and I knew that my background would be investigated. What I discovered shocked me and it'll shock you." He gazed out at the cove again. "The massacre was documented in the files of Army Intelligence."
Bob's mouth fell open. "How could it have been? We were alone—no one knew. Someone talked?" Bob refused to believe it. Dan hadn't, and he'd kept his own mouth shut all these years.
"No. A reconnaissance group was there, hidden in the jungle. Snipers had been deployed to the village because of reported Viet Cong activity."
"Just a minute." Bob held up his hand, stopping the other man. His mind was racing, and he actually felt dizzy. This was more than he could take in all at once. "Are you saying someone actually saw everything that happened and reported it?"
Samuels nodded. "A sniper and his lookout. And," he added, "they're both dead. One died later in a helicopter crash, and the other had a heart attack about five years ago."
"The army knew all along what we'd done?"
Again the other man nodded. "As you can imagine, the authorities were eager to bury it as deep as possible, although the army's Criminal Investigation Command had the details." He still hadn't looked at Bob but kept his eyes focused on the water view.
Still Bob didn't fully comprehend everything Samuels was telling him. "The village was controlled by Viet Cong?"
Samuels forcefully expelled his breath. "In some ways I think it might've been better if I'd been killed that day. I've never forgotten what I did, or the sight of the women and children I murdered."
"I haven't forgotten, either," Bob added, struggling to retain his composure.
Samuels brushed a hand over his face. "We were doomed the moment we set foot in that village."
The murders of those men, women and children had shaped all four men forever afterward. They could no more go back into the jungle and alter the events of that long-ago afternoon than he could shrug off this load of shame and remorse. Knowing there'd be no official reprisals didn't make any difference to how he felt. Bob sipped his coffee and let it moisten his dry mouth.
"For years I suffered from flashbacks," Samuels confessed. "I was on antidepressants and sleeping pills. I didn't sleep through an entire night for ten years after I got back from Nam." He shrugged. "Often I still don't."
"For me it was nightmares," Bob said.
They were both quiet for several minutes after that, and Bob thought about those other two men, the sniper and his lookout, and what they'd seen. They'd reported it to army intelligence but obviously had never gone to the press. Was that on orders? Or out of loyalty to soldier comrades? He wondered how that experience—and that secret—had affected them. Bob decided he couldn't think about that anymore, not right now.
He broke the silence. "A friend of mine has a couple of questions regarding Russell. I'm hoping you wouldn't mind talking to him."
Samuels's eyes narrowed, and Bob saw his hands clench. "Who is it?"
"A private investigator I hired shortly after Max died. For a while there, I was afraid I might somehow have been involved with his death."
Samuels relaxed his hands. "If I can help, I will," he said simply.
Bob knew Roy was counting on that.
Forty-Seven
"Rachel, phone! Line one," Valerie shouted from the reception desk at Get Nailed.
Smiling apologetically at her client, Rachel reached behind her and grabbed the phone. "This is Rachel."
"Rachel, it's Nate."
Instantly her heart flew into her throat and she blinked wildly, trying to stay calm. "Hi," she said as casually as she could, but her voice was barely more than a whisper. They'd seen each other twice in the last month, at the same time she'd been seeing Bruce. She enjoyed Brace's company and adored Jolene, but he was more of a friend than a love interest. With Bruce she remained cautious; he seemed to enjoy their dates as much as she did, but there wasn't any deep romance between them and they both knew it.
"Can I see you tonight?" Nate asked urgently.
Rachel frowned. "This isn't a good time for me. Could we talk later?"
"It can't wait. Word just came down that we're shipping out."
The aircraft carrier George Washington was leaving the Bremerton shipyard!
"When?"
"Soon. Listen, I know you told me you're seeing this other guy."
"It's not that—"
"I'm involved with someone else, too, but I couldn't leave without at least saying goodbye."
Rachel closed her eyes, not knowing what to say. Before she could decide, her heart answered for her. "All right. When and where?"
He hesitated, and she leapt into the silence.
"Meet me at my place at seven, and we can figure it out then," she said and immediately wanted to kick herself. Was she crazy? This man made her feel weak with longing every time he touched her. Now he was about to leave for what could easily be several months, and she'd just invited him to her home. Even as she spoke, she knew that once Nate was in her front door, neither of them would want to leave.
"Seven. I'll be there," he said, sounding relieved.
"Okay." The line was disconnected.
Rachel's co-workers knew something was up and started questioning her. When she told them Nate was being deployed, it seemed all the girls had advice they wanted to impart.
"Don't do anything stupid," Jane said.