Jessica looked at her.
Patricia held her gaze.
“You count too.”
Jessica had no answer.
She looked away.
The afternoon grew warmer.
Families drifted toward parking areas.
Some Marines approached Jessica briefly.
Most did not ask about JSOC.
They knew better.
One corporal simply said, “Sorry that happened, ma’am.”
Jessica thanked him.
A retired gunnery sergeant shook his head and muttered, “Captain lost his damn mind.”
Jessica did not respond.
A young lieutenant approached with obvious discomfort.
“Ma’am, may I ask something?”
Jessica sighed.
“Depends.”
“Why didn’t you just put your cap on?”
Jessica looked at him.
He immediately looked embarrassed.
“Sorry, ma’am.”
“No. It’s fair.”
She considered the answer.
“Because I didn’t come here to be Major Dalton.”
The lieutenant nodded.
“I understand.”
Jessica tilted her head.
“Do you?”
He hesitated.
“No, ma’am. Probably not.”
That honesty earned a small smile.
“Keep that answer.”
He smiled too.
“Yes, ma’am.”
As he walked away, Patricia said, “You terrify people.”
Jessica frowned.
“I do not.”
“He looked like he was approaching a bear.”
“That’s rank.”
“No.”
Patricia smiled faintly.
“That’s you.”
Jessica rolled her eyes.
For a few minutes, they felt like mother and daughter again.
Not officer and civilian.
Not survivor and witness.
Just family.
Then Staff Sergeant Miller returned.
He looked troubled.
“Major.”
Jessica turned.
“Yes?”
“They’re doing a preliminary breath test on Captain Crawford.”
Jessica waited.
Miller swallowed.
“It registered alcohol.”
Patricia looked at Jessica.
Jessica’s face did not change.
Miller continued.
“They’re taking him for formal testing.”
Jessica nodded.
“Understood.”
The staff sergeant looked uncomfortable.
“I thought you should know.”
“Thank you.”
He started to leave.
Jessica stopped him.
“Miller.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Don’t spread the number.”
He looked surprised.
“I won’t.”
“This is an investigation now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He walked away.
Patricia watched him.
“You’re protecting Crawford again.”
“No.”
“It looks like it.”
Jessica shook her head.
“I’m protecting the process.”
Her mother considered that.
“There’s a difference?”
“Yes.”
“What happens to him?”
“I don’t know.”
“You really don’t?”
“No.”
Jessica sat on the edge of a folding chair.
“He’ll be investigated.”
“For drinking?”
“For everything.”
Patricia looked toward the parking lot.
“Could he lose his career?”
“Yes.”
Jessica said it without satisfaction.
Her mother sat beside her.
“Does that bother you?”
Jessica took a long breath.
