Walker (In the Company of Snipers #21) - Irish Winters Page 0,91
and that’s where things don’t line up. The timeline in your OMPF isn’t accurate with what the prosecutor told the jury. Yet not once did your attorney challenge anything the Navy brass said. He just kept rolling over, asking them to kick his balls again and again.”
Walker bowed his head. “I couldn’t afford some hotshot lawyer back then. I’m a frog, not Jed Freakin’ McCormack.”
“But you’ve got a private attorney now.” She made that a statement.
“I do. My grandfather left me some money. It’s all I’ve got left, only now…” Shit. He’d need ten times that much to prove his innocence.
“So where were you during that leave you requested, but which the Navy declares they have no record?”
And this was where the rubber met the road. Walker debated telling Persia why he hadn’t produced receipts that would’ve, without a doubt, verified his trip into Guatemala. But he’d made a promise to a little girl, and he wasn’t going back on his word just to save his ass. Emily was the important one, not him.
“I can’t say,” he told Persia honestly.
“Or you won’t say,” she corrected. “I get it. You were on private business. Never mind. Forget I asked. That’s where my boss comes in. I don’t know everyone for sure, but Alex has several of us working your case.” She lifted one dainty finger. “Me.” Then another and another, as she said, “Former USMC hardass, Izza Maher, former Navy Intelligence Officer, Ember Dennison, and I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think former SEAL Adam Torrey’s also working on setting you free. Don’t worry. We’ll find out.”
Walker about choked. “Adam works for Stewart?”
Persia’s head bobbed. “Of course. Only the best guys and gals work for Alex, and trust me…” She seemed to be saying that a lot. Trust me. Walker was beginning to. “Alex wouldn’t be digging into your case if he didn’t think you were worth it.”
A shiver raced over Walker’s shoulders. He’d been fighting this battle all by himself for so damned long. No one had stepped forward to stand by him or for him until now. A stranger. A guy he didn’t know, had never heard of before, had suddenly stepped forward to challenge the entire damned Navy? Stewart thought a lot of him, some guy he didn’t even know?
Walker stared at his soup. Afraid to hope. Afraid not to. “I know Adam. We’ve served together. He still jumping out of perfectly good airplanes?”
Persia’s smile warmed him. “Of course. We all have to be HALO qualified, but he’s our flying squirrel, and you should see him with Squeaks. You’d never know—”
“You? You’re HALO qualified, too?” Unbelievable.
Her one brow lifted. “I’m qualified for lots of things, honey.”
“But he’s… Adam’s a father? What kind of name’s Squeaks?”
“Squeaks is Adam’s son, and that’s just his handle. His real name’s Jimmy Malone Torrey, but he earned that name by living, despite being born two months premature, on the desert island where Adam and Squeaks’ mother crash-landed. You might’ve heard of her. Shannon Reagan, the billionaire, Paul Reagan’s daughter. Remember him?”
Walker certainly remembered the asshat who’d delivered more POS equipment than life-saving gear to the Navy before he’d died.
Persia continued, “I can’t wait to get you back to Alexandria, Virginia. That’s where TEAM headquarters is. Alex is a hardass, but I think he’ll be thrilled to meet you in person.”
That’d be different, someone ‘thrilled’ to meet him, not just glad they’d arrested him. Walker dared to hope. “But he doesn’t know me.”
Persia’s pretty clean hand landed over Walker’s battle-scarred knuckles. “When I applied to work for Alex, I was pretty sure he’d fire me every time I turned around. Whatever you do, don’t call him ‘sir.’ He hates that. Just Mr. Stewart, okay?”
Her fingers fluttered over Walker’s. “He’s former USMC, and he’s lethal. But he’s got something against officers. I’m fairly certain he’s been working your case for a while now. I’m just glad he asked me to come get you.” Her voice softened. “And I’m glad I was smart enough to leave the Bureau and look for a better job, or I wouldn’t be here right now…”
With every word, her head had tilted closer to his. Man, Walker wanted to kiss her.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured, sure he shouldn’t kiss her, but just as sure he would. There seemed to be nothing between them that they couldn’t conquer together.
Until the front door slammed open and one angry Hispanic woman with fire flashing in her black eyes bellowed. “Get the