A Different Dawn (Nina Guerrera)

by Isabella Maldonado

  Breck nodded. “He was the one who interviewed the neighbor who called it the Llorona case, and the name stuck.”

  Nina recalled the newsclip she had seen on their first flight to Phoenix. It seemed like a million years ago.

  “Unfortunately, Snead’s not the unsub,” Kent said. “He doesn’t fit the profile.”

  “More to the point, we can definitively rule him out,” Breck added. “He was in Hawaii on leap day in 1996. That year, February twenty-ninth fell on a Thursday, and Snead landed in Honolulu the day before in preparation for his wedding, which was that Saturday. He did not come back to the mainland for two weeks, after his honeymoon.”

  Nina had practically memorized the murder schedule. “In 1996 the unsub struck in LA.”

  “Exactly,” Breck said. “There’s no way it could’ve been Snead, but to double-check, we found out that he was in Phoenix on all other leap days, usually on live television, so he couldn’t have been out of town committing the crimes.”

  Nina sighed. “The perfect alibi,” she said. “But he still knows way more than he should.”

  “We reached out to him yesterday evening,” Kent said. “He told us he was getting his scoops from a source close to the investigation.” He gave his head a small shake. “Which, of course, he would not disclose.”

  “We explained that the source was probably the killer,” Breck said. “Snead quoted the First Amendment to us. It went downhill from there.”

  “Let’s assume the real murderer is feeding Snead,” Nina said. “Why would he do that?”

  “It’s a disinformation campaign like we sometimes did in the military,” Kent said. “The info he gives to Snead is strategic. He times the news releases to interfere, mislead, or distract us.”

  Nina understood the cleverness of the maneuver. “He probably wanted us to waste time and resources investigating Snead as well. That could be why he fed the info to only one member of the media. It would make Snead look more guilty.”

  “Mission accomplished,” Breck said. “We wasted most of the day on that damned reporter.”

  Buxton redirected the discussion. “Let’s move on to the Thomas Kirk investigation.”

  Even before Snead, Nina had been convinced the Realtor was the murderer. “Another instance of someone who checked all the boxes for a good suspect.”

  “I liked him for it too,” Breck said. “Right up until the actual killer filleted him.”

  “I want to go back to the scene now that the evidence techs are finished there,” Nina said. “The unsub is sending us off on tangents, and I’m anxious to get back on his trail.”

  Chapter 32

  Phoenix Royal Suites

  Phoenix, Arizona

  Seven hours later, Nina stepped out of the hotel shower after washing off the travel ick. Bustling airport terminals always made her feel like cattle being herded through a chute.

  She cinched the thick belt on the hotel’s plush terry-cloth robe and ambled out of the bathroom. “The shower’s all yours,” she called out to Breck, then came to an abrupt halt as her bare feet hit the dense carpet.

  Wade and Kent were seated in a small cluster of furniture, deep in discussion with Breck. Three heads turned her way. Nina strolled over and sat on the love seat next to Wade. Kent and Breck were on the sofa across from her, Breck’s laptop sitting open between half-empty boxes of Thai takeout on the low coffee table.

  They avoided her gaze. “There’s nothing like walking into a room and everyone stops talking,” she said.

  Wade found his voice first. “We’ve been having a little chat about you.”

  Nina waited them out in silence.

  Predictably, Breck cracked first. “We’ve got to tell her,” she said to the two men. “Now.”

  Nina narrowed her eyes. “Tell me what?”

  Breck turned away from the men to focus on Nina. “Remember when we ate brunch in the Boardroom at Quantico this morning?”

  A sinking feeling formed in Nina’s stomach as she got an inkling where this might be going.

  Breck grimaced. “I kind of picked up your soda can and took it to my friend at the lab.”

  “What the hell, Breck?”

  “Look, you wanted answers.” She swept out a hand toward Wade, who was examining the wall art, and Kent, who appeared to be fascinated by the take-out boxes. “We all did.”

  “So you had my DNA compared to the Vega family without my knowledge or consent?”

  Breck grimaced. “When you put it like that, it sounds—”

  “Like a massive invasion of my privacy and a major violation of protocol,” Nina finished for her. Not exactly a stickler for protocol herself, Nina still had limits, and she felt Breck had crossed a line.

  A red scald spread through Breck’s freckled cheeks as her mouth snapped shut.

  Wade intervened, his voice soothing. “It’s done. Now we need to deal with the ramifications.”

  “Does anyone plan to tell me what the results were?” Nina heard her own voice rising again.

  “You already know,” Wade said quietly.

  Looking at each of them in turn, she read the answer in their expressions. The lab had only confirmed what she knew in her heart. After a lifetime spent untethered, unwanted, and unloved, she had finally found her parents, only to learn they had been ripped away before she ever even had a chance to know them. Her chest swelled with blinding rage, soul-deep pain, and finally, profound grief.

  Since Nina had been old enough to understand how she had ended up in the foster system, she had always known her story would be tragic. A baby doesn’t end up in the trash under any but the worst circumstances, and she had assumed it had been a heartless act done out of sheer cruelty.

  After meeting Carmen, Nina realized abandoning her child had been an act of desperation born out of mental illness and substance abuse. Carmen had obviously been self-medicating and wasn’t in her right mind, but she should have made a different choice. If she couldn’t care for her child, she should have taken her to a safe place.

  Carmen’s reckless and thoughtless actions in a moment of anguish had caused years of suffering. For both of them.

  Nina wanted to hate her, but the image of Carmen in her hospital room, surrounded by the accusing eyes of the dolls she painted, trapped in an echo chamber of recurring self-recrimination, hobbled by guilt, tugged at her heart.

  Hadn’t they both suffered enough? Could she release herself from the burden of hate? Of anger? Of judgment? The fight drained out of her, leaving her bereft and strangely numb. “I’m the missing baby from the Llorona case.” She made it a statement. “Victor and Maria Vega are my biological parents.” Her eyes drifted down. “I should have died along with them.”

  “No, honey.” Breck reached out to clasp her hand. Then, possibly sensing Nina’s discomfort, quickly released it.

  “The question is, what do we do now that we know it for a fact?” Kent asked.

  She appreciated Kent’s use of the word we, but this was her load to bear. She would have to deal with it and keep the others from further exposure to career-ending disaster.

  “I had an obligation to report my suspicions the moment I had them . . . and I didn’t.” She dragged a hand through her damp hair and admitted the ugly truth. “Because I want to stay on the case.”

  “We can’t jeopardize the investigation,” Wade said. “Or any potential prosecution.”

  Kent jerked his chin at Breck. “Which is where plausible deniability would have come in handy. Now we have test results, and we can’t pretend we don’t know.”

  Still red-faced, Breck defended herself. “No one knows we know. There’s no report with these findings at the lab. Nothing was entered into any database.” She raised her hand, fingers spread wide. “There are five people on the planet—us and the lab tech—who are aware of this right now.”

  Kent looked thoughtful. “So we proceed like before.” He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And if it come
s out for any reason, we act surprised.”

  Nina realized they were trying to find a way to keep her on the case. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but Wade’s right, we can’t take any risks that would affect the prosecution of—”

  “Let’s look at what we’ve got,” Wade said. “Things have obviously changed, and we need to adapt.”

  “What did you have in mind?” Nina asked cautiously.

  “We should switch the teams around,” he said. “Guerrera will work with Kent on the Doyle case, and Breck will partner with me on the Llorona case.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Kent said.

  “If we suddenly change what we’re doing, we’ll draw attention to the situation,” Nina said. “How will we justify it to Buxton? He would never allow us to swap cases in the middle of a major investigation without a good reason.” She shook her head. “If we’re going to do this, we need to keep going as if we truly don’t know. Anything else would look suspicious.”

  “I agree with Guerrera,” Breck said. “We should keep things as they are.”

  Nina played with a loose thread on her bathrobe. “As long as the public doesn’t find out about my relationship to the Vega family until after a suspect is in custody, we’ll be fine.”

  “There’s another aspect to this you’re not thinking about, Guerrera,” Wade said. “Thanks to Snead’s news story, both families already know Victor and Maria’s biological child is missing. They’ll demand to know what kind of progress we’ve made in locating her, but we cannot divulge that information at this time.”

  He had a point. She hadn’t thought about what it would mean to see the relatives of both victims knowing they were her family. The family she had always assumed had abandoned her. The family she had always longed for.

  She shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll be forced to lie and tell them we don’t know what happened to the baby.”

  “FBI agents don’t lie,” Wade said. “We just characterize the situation in such a manner that leaves it open to interpretation.”

  “Right,” she said. “I’m going to have to lie my ass off.”

  “You okay with that?” Kent asked her.

  “Whatever it takes,” she said. “I just hope they understand when they learn the truth.”

  “When should that be?” Breck had posed the thorniest question of all.

  “I would say not until after prosecution,” Kent said. “But that could take years, and it’s too long to let the families continue to suffer.” He turned to Nina. “Or Guerrera.”

  Wade appeared to give it some thought. “I suppose we could come out with it after an arrest is made,” he said slowly. “Then Guerrera will recuse herself from the prosecution and trial.”

  “That could work,” Breck said. “But no one outside of this room can ever know.”

  Nina knew how it would look if everything came out in the open ahead of time. “This was the Phoenix PD’s case originally. Perez is going to be pretty damn hot if he finds out we kept this from him.”

  “So will the entire police department, the victims’ families, the media, and the general public,” Wade said.

  “If this leaks out before we put cuffs on the unsub, I’m holding all of you to a promise.” Nina looked at each of them in turn. “I take the fall.” She tapped her chest with her fingertips. “None of you. Only me.”

  Kent stiffened. “Listen, Guerrera, we—”

  “No,” she cut him off. “I’m not taking anyone else down with me. You all will need to stay on and find this guy.” She paused, adding emphasis to her words. “And all the others out there who need to get caught.”

  It was an acknowledgment of the seriousness of the situation. Withholding this kind of information could get her fired. She regarded Kent. He would be the hardest sell. She figured his desire to keep chasing predators was warring with his intense loyalty to his team and his determination to never leave anyone behind.

  Finally, he met her gaze. “Deal,” he said simply. For him, duty to his job and his community had won out.

  The others nodded their tacit agreement.

  They had made a pact.

  Chapter 33

  He clicked off the digital voice player and flopped back on the hotel bed, stunned. He pressed the button to go back fifteen seconds and listened again as Nina Guerrera spoke the words that changed everything.

  “I’m the missing baby from the Llorona case. Victor and Maria Vega are my biological parents. I should have died along with them.”

  Yes, she damn well should have died. She knew it, and now he knew it too.

  Finally, he understood why Phoenix had not provided what he needed. Phoenix was supposed to fix everything. Bring it all into balance. But the city had been tainted from the start, and he’d been forced to keep finding other cities, other families, other leap days, to settle the score.

  It dawned on him that he was living the legend of La Llorona, forever in search of a way to undo what had been done. Like the woman from the folktale, he seemed cursed to never achieve his goal. Doomed to continue, tormented, for eternity. And now he knew the reason why.

  Nina Guerrera.

  She was the fruit from the poisonous tree. He had learned the legal term from watching courtroom dramas on television. For prosecutors, it meant any evidence obtained from an illegal search was inadmissible in court. For him, it meant everything he had done after Phoenix hadn’t worked because it had been tainted by a critical error from the outset.

  At long last, he understood why nothing quieted the rage. Nothing made it right. Nothing ever ended. Because a piece had been missing all along.

  Once he put that missing piece where it belonged, things would fall into place.

  He pulled open his tablet and began searching for more information about her. Like so many others, he had followed her most famous case with interest. This time, with a totally different perspective, he delved into what the media had reported about her background before she joined the FBI. As he absorbed the lurid details, he realized he was reading a slightly altered version of his own past.

  Like Nina Guerrera, he had spent several of his formative years in the care of the state. Like her, no one had wanted him. No one had understood him. Others had tried to cow him, but he was a fighter, like the Warrior Girl.

  At sixteen, they had each faced a turning point, and that’s where their stories diverged. She had chosen the path of weakness, and he had chosen strength. She worked for justice. He exacted revenge.

  She had gained fame, even adulation, while he toiled in obscurity. He should have had her life. Should have been famous, admired. And the Warrior Girl shouldn’t even exist.

  Each breath she drew was an affront. An imbalance begging to be set right. He began to formulate a new plan.

  The reporter would make it easy. He had first seen Snead’s coverage of the Llorona case twenty-eight years ago, back when they were both young men. Snead’s apparent fascination with the case had made him a useful tool this week. The anonymous tips he had given the reporter had provided the perfect distraction. The Feds were looking for a leak among their ranks that didn’t exist. Snead was hungry, and he would continue to feed him well.

  It took him about an hour, but he laid out three phases to the plan. For the first phase, he would need some extra equipment from his house, including the special laptop he kept locked in his basement. While he was stopping by, he could take out the trash, collect the mail, and retrieve any packages so his neighbors would think he’d been commuting to work from his home as usual, in case the FBI ever came sniffing around.

  He did not underestimate his adversary. He would have to lay the trap with extreme care. Of course, an effective trap required irresistible bait. This new information offered him exactly that. A smile slowly lifted his lips. Nina Guerrera would never see it coming.

  Chapter 34

  Nina stood in the same spot she had been four days earlier, the morning sun burning off the last of the dew. Unlike before, howe
ver, a band of yellow police tape slanted across Thomas Kirk’s front door.

  Perez hooked a thumb on his belt next to his gleaming detective shield. “I’m not sure why you wanted to come here before speaking to Teresa. She’s been hounding me for information ever since the news broke about the baby switch.”

  Nina had called him late the night before after the meeting with her team at the hotel. As agreed, she had not informed Perez about her discovery in DC, instead asking him to meet her at the scene of Kirk’s murder.

  “I figured this was my last chance to see the crime scene,” she said in answer to his comment. “Besides, it’s too early in the morning to knock on people’s doors.” She didn’t add that she wanted a bit more time to prepare herself to confront her family without betraying any emotion.

  “You’re right about the crime scene,” Perez said. He had contacted Kirk’s sister, who had inherited his estate, to inform her they needed the house another day. “His sister’s not happy. Told me she hired a hazmat-cleaning crew to get this place ready to sell, and now she’ll have to reschedule.”

  “Sounds like they weren’t close.” Nina lifted the yellow tape so Perez could fit a key into the locked front door. “By the way, did the evidence techs find anything interesting when they were here?”

  “They collected their usual five thousand bags of stuff to process. I checked with Dr. Ledford this morning. They haven’t identified any extraneous DNA or fingerprints so far.”

  She recoiled at the chaos that greeted her when she walked inside. Chairs tipped over, drawers pulled out, their contents strewn across the floor. “The killer didn’t do a very convincing job staging this scene. I’m thinking he may not be as good at improvising as he is when he has four years to plan his crimes.”

  “Which implies he rushed out here to silence Kirk on short notice.”

  Something that had bothered her from the moment they had found Kirk’s body. “Thomas Kirk only came across our radar the afternoon before he was killed.” She strode into the kitchen, eyes continuously roving as she read the scene. “The unsub took him out just hours before we got to him.”