“Let’s see what we’ve got.” Nathan sat down at the desk while Harv looked over his shoulder. The first piece of paper was a copy of the Pensacola police department’s incident report. Ernie Bridgestone had been going the speed limit, the skid marks on the road verified it. From what they could glean from the report, a woman had entered the street from between two parked cars. The right bumper of Ernie’s Camaro had clipped her, sending her head over heels. She died instantly from a broken neck. Her BAC, or blood-alcohol concentration, had been .35, over four times the legal limit of .08. Ernie’s BAC had been .10. Just as Amber Sheldon had said, he hadn’t been truly drunk, but he’d been over the legal limit and that’s all that mattered. The responding officer had written in his notes that Ernie had been extremely indignant, stating over and over that he wasn’t drunk and that it wasn’t his fault. He’d used profane and derogatory language about the dead victim’s ethnicity, which was Hispanic. Things quickly turned ugly. After resisting arrest, he’d been Tasered by a backup officer. Booked for felony drunk driving, his bail was set at 10,000 dollars.

The next documents in the file concerned Ernie’s civil-court matters. His driver’s license had been revoked for eighteen months and he’d been fined 2,000 dollars, the maximum allowed by law. Because Ernie had been in the military, Nathan knew his troubles were only beginning. As an active member of the United States armed forces, Ernie had been subject to the Uniform Code of Military Justice, no matter where the accident had happened. On or off base, it didn’t matter. He’d been surrendered to the military police of Pensacola Naval Air Station and placed in the brig. Notes from the transporting MP’s also indicated Ernie had been belligerent, profane, and generally uncooperative. In the court-martial that followed, the presiding military judge showed no leniency. Had Ernie possessed an outstanding military record with no prior offenses, things might have been different. But Ernie had a long history of insubordination. The bottom line: The Marine Corps made an example out of him, sentencing him to five years in the USDB at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. Basically, the Marine Corps version of good riddance, dirtbag. The final sheet of paper was a copy of a newspaper clipping, complete with a photograph of the victim. Nathan’s eyes grew as he stared at the low-resolution photocopy.

“I’ve seen this face,” he said.

Behind him, Harv whispered, “No, it can’t be.”

Nathan rewound his mind, trying to place it. Then he had it. Staring up at him from the lifeless sheet of paper was an image he’d seen for the first time only days ago.

The face of Frank Ortega’s daughter.

Chapter 19

Chapter  19

Harv barely managed a whisper. “Do you know who that is?”

Nathan nodded.