Chapter 7

“Lieutenant Gray, please come in,” the major instructed.

Danger enveloped her as Jillian stepped into the company commander’s office. Two additional men were in the room, seated on the couch just to the right of the large oak desk. The insignia on their uniforms identified them as being attached to the military policing company. Their expressions were fixed like granite.

The tension in the room was oppressive and Jillian concentrated on steadying her breathing to remain calm. She came to attention two feet in front of the desk, snapping her right arm in a salute to the dark haired man standing on the other side. He returned the salute and motioned for her to sit.

“Have a seat and relax, lieutenant.”

Jillian sat ramrod straight in one of the two wooden chairs in front of the desk. Relax? Her anxiety was off the chart; her heart was pounding so hard she thought he must be able to see it. Her eyes darted from the major to the two MP’s seated across the room.

The major moved around to the other chair and sat next to her. Clearing his throat, he addressed her formally, “Lieutenant, these men are investigators assigned to CID.” Jillian’s stomach rolled and she felt bile rising to the back of her throat. “They want to ask you a few questions.”

“Yes sir,” she managed.

Jillian had no idea what to do. She had heard of people being spirited away for ‘interviews’, never to return to their regular duties. Panic was beginning to grip her insides, making it difficult to breathe. She forced those thoughts from her mind, trying to convince herself momentarily that this meeting could be about anything. CID being here didn’t necessarily mean she was under investigation. Of course, it didn’t ease her discomfort that they might want her to snitch on someone else.

The taller of the two investigators, a Chief Warrant Officer who stood about 5’10” and appeared very fit, with cold grey eyes and dark hair mixed with grey, stood and moved over to the desk in front of Jillian. Resting his hip on the corner, he assessed her for a few moments before speaking. “Lieutenant, my name is Chief Martin,” he gestured to the other man, “And this is Chief Honeycutt.” Jillian nodded but remained silent her eyes watching Martin intently. His body language was relaxed and his voice even friendly, but his eyes were cold steel looking at her.

Martin continued, “As you may know, CID conducts various types of investigations, some internal, some criminal, some conduct related violations—some a combination of the three.” He stopped momentarily, watching the lieutenant for signs of unease, but saw only a deep brown fixed stare. “At any rate, we have already spoken to…several…uh…acquaintances of yours,” his smile didn’t reach his eyes, “It seems that your name keeps coming up.”

The twenty four year old from a small Bible belt dot on the map and no real world experience, except college nights out on the town, struggled to keep her fears in check. She had a damn good idea where he was going with this conversation. She had heard tale of their tactics from others who came before. Once the hunt began, they used gossip, innuendo, whatever tricks they had to get people to turn on each other, to turn each other in. Jillian also knew that the penalties for homosexual conduct ranged from reduction in rank and a less than honorable discharge to criminal charges and court-martial.

Forcing herself to continue to meet the cold, mocking stare of the investigator, she said as evenly as possible, “Maybe you could start by telling me exactly what we are talking about.”

The second investigator, a short, balding man wearing gold wire rimmed glasses spoke from the couch. “We are talking about conduct unbecoming an officer, lieutenant. We have reason to believe that you have information on activities that are prohibited—”

The major interrupted, “Chief, should the lieutenant have any kind of legal counsel present?”

The major didn’t much like these strong armed tactics. He personally didn’t believe that it was the government’s business if a person were gay or not. Professionally, he wasn’t about to risk his career by getting in CID’s way. After all, they had too many ways of coming after just about anyone.

Looking evenly at the major, Martin replied, “No, sir not at this time. We are looking into some talk going around, nothing substantial.” He flashed a silencing look at Honeycutt, and then looked at Jillian, “Of course, we don’t mean you lieutenant. We just thought that you might be helpful in getting to the bottom of a few things; just a conversation. You’re alright with that, aren’t you?”

Jillian had no idea what to do. If she said no, then they would call her evasive, say she was trying to hide something. Then again, if she agreed to talk without any legal counsel, she might say the wrong things and make the situation worse for herself or somebody else. Who have they already talked to?

Her mind raced trying to imagine all of the possibilities. Had they been following her? She thought going to Boston was safe. Maybe it wasn’t. What about Devon? Oh, my God, have they been in our room while we’re gone? She decided that she had to talk to them or she would have no idea what was happening, and the unknown was definitely worse.

“What would you like to know, Chief?” Jillian fixed him with a steady gaze, but still the investigator heard the nervousness in her voice.

“Does the name Julia Marks mean anything to you?” Martin was an experienced interrogator. He didn’t ask questions that he didn’t already know the answer to. He already had information that Marks and Gray had been involved in ROTC. The investigation there had gone cold when they apparently ended their relationship. After graduation they were, of course reassigned separately completely severing the tie. But then, this assignment brought the two women back together in a sense. He watched as the mention of Mark’s name caused a flash of fear in the otherwise defiant brown eyes.

Raising an eyebrow, he pressed, “Well, lieutenant? Do you know Lieutenant Marks?”

“Yes.”

“And, what is the nature of your relationship with her?”

Jillian’s thoughts were so frantic; she felt that her head might explode from the building pressure. Why do they want to know about Jules?

“We are friends.” She said calmly. She thought she heard the other investigator swear under his breath. Martin shot him another deadly look.

“That’s all? Just friends?” His grey eyes were boring into her.

“Yes.” Jillian was technically not lying; the relationship with Jules had been over for quite some time.

Investigator Honeycutt spoke, “What about when you were in ROTC?”

Jillian’s breathing accelerated and her palms were sweating now. She fought the urge to fidget in the chair and wipe her palms on her legs. Martin didn’t miss the fact that she had begun chewing on the inside of her lip. She cleared her throat and offered, “We have been friends for quite a while.”

“So you’d say you know each other pretty well, then, I take it?” Martin had resumed his amicable tone. “She knows as much about you?” Jillian nodded.

“Does Lieutenant Marks date men?”

The question struck Jillian like a slap to the face and she blinked hard struggling to maintain her composure. After a few seconds she responded, “You would have to ask her.”

Martin knew he had struck a nerve. He could see the cracks in the armor starting to develop, but this session was not about breaking Gray. No, this was to plant a seed, a fishing expedition, and he was feeling a nibble on the line. He smiled almost imperceptively. Time was on his side and he knew that if he was patient, he may be successful in making several cases at once. There was still one more subject in this investigation, and he still needed to talk to her. If he jumped too soon, someone might escape.

“Fair enough, lieutenant.” He stood walking to the window behind the captain’s desk. “I do appreciate your loyalty to your friend.” Smiling again, “Thanks for your time; that will be all, I think for now.”

“You’re dismissed, lieutenant,” the major instructed.

“Thank you, sir, good night then.” Jillian hurried to escape the room.

Alone on the sidewalk, her emotions seeped out. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she walked blindly across the base. Her mind was spinning out of control as she replayed the interview in her head, trying desperately to figure out what was happening. They are investigating Jules? What about the rest of us? Am I really just a witness? No, probably not. But then why would they let me go if they knew something about me?

By the time she got to the barracks it was almost 6:30 and dark. Jillian climbed the stairs and walked down the hallway toward their room. Stopping outside the door, she was suddenly afraid to enter. She had no way of knowing if any of this affected Devon. Christ, maybe she got called in today too!

That thought sent Jillian into a panic at the thought of those bastards coming after her lover. She threw open the door and stormed into the room. Devon, who had been alternately pacing the room and staring out the window nervously, jumped as the door struck the wall. Jillian pushed the door closed behind her and crossed the room to Devon.

“Dev, you okay?” Jillian was breathless, her emotions on overload, tears dangerously close to the surface and she blinked them back.

Devon threw her arms around her lover’s neck, “I was so worried about you.”

Jillian gathered Devon into a tight hug, intent on fusing their bodies together. She shook with emotion, clinging desperately to the only truth in her life.

After a few moments, Jillian said, “We have to talk.”

“Okay, then sit,” Devon recognized pure fear in Jillian’s eyes.

“No, not here,” Jillian whispered, her eyes darting around the room. Now she felt danger everywhere. “Let’s go,” with that, she pulled Devon from the room and they hurried out of the building, across the quad to the burger joint on the other side of the base.

Part 4

What's Ya Poison?