The sergeant major looked toward Hale.
Then Alicia.
He said nothing.
Hale found his voice.
“General, we received burglary call.”
Alicia turned.
“That’s relevant.”
He nodded too eagerly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“My father matched—”
Walter interrupted.
“Careful.”
Hale looked.
Walter’s voice was not threatening.
It was instructive.
“Say what happened.”
“Not what you need it to sound like.”
Dana looked at Walter.
That sentence landed with her.
Alicia said:
“Officer, continue.”
Hale swallowed.
“We received suspicious-person report.”
“The male—Mr. Brooks—was near side entrance.”
“He could not initially produce ID.”
Walter said:
“It was inside.”
Hale kept going.
“Then there was concern about weapons and—”
Dana spoke.
“He told us weapons were secured.”
Hale shot her look.
Alicia noticed.
Dana continued.
“Dispatch verified residence.”
“Original caller clarified he did not observe forced entry.”
Alicia looked at Hale.
“When?”
He did not answer.
Dana did.
“Before the physical restraint continued.”
The general inhaled slowly.
Walter knew that breathing.
She had inherited it from him.
Alicia looked toward her father.
“You’re supposed to be dressed.”
He blinked.
“For what?”
“You know what.”
“I told you I wasn’t wearing dress uniform from Atlanta to Washington.”
“You aren’t driving.”
“No.”
“Still not.”
Evelyn said:
“I laid it out.”
Walter looked betrayed.
“Et tu?”
Evelyn smiled faintly.
Hale stared.
Washington.
Escort.
Three-star general.
He asked before he could stop himself:
“Where are you taking him?”
Alicia looked at him.
“To Washington.”
“For what?”
That question should not have been asked.
Not because classified.
Because none of his business.
But Walter answered.
“Ceremony.”
Hale’s eyes went toward the military case.
The Army command sergeant major beside the SUV finally spoke.
His voice carried.
“The Pentagon is naming the new Senior Noncommissioned Officer Leadership Center after Command Sergeant Major Walter J. Brooks.”
Silence.
Mrs. Kelley’s phone lowered completely.
Dana stared.
Walter closed his eyes.
“I asked you not to say that.”
The sergeant major looked embarrassed.
“Sorry, Sergeant Major.”
Walter frowned.
“Retired.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It absolutely matters.”
Alicia almost smiled.
Hale looked at Walter as though seeing a different man.
That expression bothered Walter more than all the others.
Because nothing about him had changed.
Same cardigan.
Same old knee.
Same gray beard.
Same address.
The only difference was somebody important had explained who he had once been.
Walter looked at Hale.
“There.”
The officer swallowed.
Walter continued.
“That face you’re making.”