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“Dad, I wasn’t there when Trish needed me.”
“Because you were serving your country.”
Tension gripped David as he thought back to three years ago when Trish had taken a lethal combination of alcohol and painkillers. He’d been halfway around the world, supporting ground troops as a B-52 pilot. Earlier, when he’d left Trish after her operation to repair her damaged knee and returned to the war zone, she’d been improving—or so she said—and had urged him to leave. If only he’d known then that she’d become dependent on painkillers, maybe she would be alive today.
“Son, stop blaming yourself. You can’t change the past. Focus on the here and now.”
“I’m trying.”
“Is that why you’re working so hard when you’re supposed to be retired? You’ve made some good investments. You don’t even have to work, but then your job at the search and rescue organization is strictly volunteer.”
“I’m only forty-one. Just because I retired from the service doesn’t mean I’m going to lie around on some beach doing nothing.”
His father chuckled. “Well, certainly not here in Alaska. But Hawaii is only a plane ride away.”
Too wired, David prowled around his kitchen, needing to sleep but not sure he could, even after his previous night sleeping restlessly on the couch in his office. “This volunteer job is perfect for me. I’d go crazy without it. You of all people should know what that feels like.”
His dad held up his hands as if in surrender. “Okay. You’ve made your point. The Stone men aren’t good at relaxation.”
David started to reply when his cell phone rang, jolting him. As he answered it, he glimpsed Chance’s name on the screen.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” his friend said.
“No, Dad and I were talking. What’s up?”
“I did some checking after we talked earlier, and I thought you might like to know Jeremiah’s emergency locator transmitter hasn’t sent a signal since the last pass of the satellite. I know you didn’t turn it off, since you were back in Anchorage by then, so who did?”
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