Chapter 6 - The Visitor
The front door slammed back against the wall.
Heavy, deliberate boots marched down the hardwood hallway toward my room. Patricia’s panicked voice trailed behind him, but she couldn't stop him.
Captain Vance stepped into the doorway.
He was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his late forty, wearing his operational camouflage uniform. His eyes were sharp, dark, and analytical. He took in the room in a single second—the locked window, the missing phone jack, the heavy scent of bleach, and me sitting propped up against the pillows.
"Lieutenant Bennett," Vance said, his voice deep and crisp.
"Captain," I replied, maintaining a straight spine despite the weakness in my lower body. "Permission to report, sir."
Vance’s eyes softened by a fraction, but his professional posture remained rigid. "Granted. Mrs. Caruso told my office you were unable to communicate."
"That is a lie, Captain," I said clearly, staring directly into his eyes. "I am fully coherent."
Patricia bustled into the room, her face flushed red, her hands fluttering near her chest. "Captain Vance, please! She is confused. The spinal trauma has caused severe mood swings and hallucinations. Victor is consulting a psychiatrist today—"
"Mrs. Caruso," Vance interrupted without looking at her, his voice cutting like a steel blade. "Step out of the room."
"This is my home—"
"This is an official military inquiry regarding an active candidate," Vance said, turning his head slowly to glare at her. "Unless you wish to be cited for interfering with a federal officer, step outside and close the door."
Patricia gasped, her jaw working silently before she backed out into the hall, slamming the door behind her.
Vance turned back to me. He pulled a wooden chair away from the wall, sat down beside the bed, and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.
"Talk to me, Bennett," he said quietly. "What happened on the night of the fourteenth?"
I took a deep breath.
"My husband struck me in the legs with a steel crowbar from the garage, Captain. His mother stood at the top of the stairs and watched. They planned it two days prior—I have seen the rental receipts for paralysis equipment dated October twelfth."
Vance didn't look surprised. His face became entirely unreadable, like stone.
"Do you have physical possession of that receipt, Lieutenant?"
"No, sir. Victor secured it in his briefcase. But there is a safe deposit box at First National Bank—Vault 408. It belonged to Arthur Caruso. I believe it contains evidence of financial fraud that my security clearance audit would have exposed."
Vance reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small black recording device. He clicked the switch on top.
"Repeat everything you just said into this microphone, Lieutenant," Vance ordered softly. "Name, rank, date, and full statement."
I looked at the recorder, then up at my commanding officer.
May you like
"Am I still an officer candidate, sir?"
Vance offered a very faint, stern smile. "Your commission was suspended pending investigation, Bennett. It was never revoked. Now give me the record."
