Never Forget: A Novella in the Echo Platoon Series by Marliss Melton Page A

wolfing down his cereal. Rusty waited, tapping an index card on the granite counter top.
    He turned at her approach, and her nerves started jangling all over again.
    “Hi,” she said, moving to stand beside her son.
    “Good morning.” Rusty’s haggard aspect suggested he hadn’t slept well either. Why not? Had he expected her to leap at his proposition?
    “What’s that?” she asked, glancing at the card.
    He tapped it two more times then held it out to her to take. “You asked if I’d found everything on my list. I’m still looking for these items.”
    Pleased that he’d taken her up on her offer, she took the card and skimmed it. Only five items comprised the list which included an off-white trash bin for a bathroom and a dog brush.
    “I’ll take care of this,” she promised. The offer made her feel better about stringing him along. “In fact, I’ll have them for you by this afternoon when I come to collect Curtis.”
    “That’d be great,” he said, his manner subdued. “Good luck finding the trash can, though. I’ve looked everywhere for a metal one.”
    “I’ll find it,” she promised.
    Curtis swung off of his stool and carried his bowl to the sink.
    “Teeth,” Maya said as he started for the front door.
    Rolling his eyes at her, he turned back to do her bidding.
    “Kids.” Maya heaved an exaggerated sigh and shook her head.
    Rusty just stood there looking at her.
    “Are you worried about your guests coming tomorrow?” she fished.
    He grimaced and nodded. “Yeah.”
    “How many will you have?”
    “A whole platoon. Sixteen men.”
    “That many? How on earth are you going to feed them all?”
    “I have cooks coming in.”
    “Really! Who’s—I’m sorry, I’m totally prying here—but where does the money come from to feed them?” She stepped closer, interested in his answer.
    “Various sources. I won a couple of grants, and I have private donors, mostly former SEALs who see the benefit of what I’m trying to do.”
    “You do all of the bookkeeping, too?”
    “The bookkeeping, the shopping, contracting with people to come in and offer various types of therapy.”
    “There’s so much to it,” she marveled. “You must be exhausted.”
    He sent her a weary smile. “Do I look exhausted?”
    “Kind of,” she said with sympathy and a wry smile. The offer to help him out further trembled on the tip of her tongue, but with Curtis thundering down the stairs, the time wasn’t right.
    “Time to roll,” Rusty said to her son.
    Maya’s heart stopped and then started again. That was what Ian used to say!
    “See you this afternoon,” Rusty called as he and Curtis headed toward the door.
    Watching them leave, Maya was struck by her desire to lend a hand. Rusty truly seemed overwhelmed. Taking on a traumatized dog on top of everything else had to be wearing him down. And now he had her teenager to look after, as well.
    Glancing at the list he’d given her, she vowed to find everything on it. Then maybe he’d let her help in other ways.
    Ten minutes later, she locked up her condo and made her way to her van. She’d forgotten about the man with the Doberman until she saw him in her side view mirror standing on the opposite sidewalk, watching her departure.
    The same sense of recognition niggled, and suddenly she remembered who he was—one of the three sailors facing charges for stealing a weapons shipment. What a coincidence! She would be working on his case that morning, trying to find evidence that still eluded her. Two crates of rifles couldn’t simply disappear into thin air.
    No wonder the man was glaring at her. What was his name again? She combed her memory. Ah yes, Petty Officer 2 nd Class William Goddard. Pending his hearing, he’d been relieved of active duty, a quarter of his pay docked since he wasn’t working.
    And he lived in her neighborhood? Yikes. She was going to have to invest in an alarm system or, better yet, move before NCIS found him guilty and vengeful