“It’s Sean you’re really thinking about, because none of what happened last week was his doing. He and Lucy were caught up in a family feud that neither of them knew anything about. I can tell you with a clear conscience that Liam Rogan would have killed Kane out of anger, spite, I don’t know, but he hated his brother. I’m sorry it happened and I’m not saying that one life is more valuable than another, but Liam Rogan put Lucy in extreme danger because of his own selfish reasons. She could be dead right now solely because of Liam’s choices.
“You have to deal with what happened. That’s why I’m giving you the time. But I know who you are and there is no one I trust more. I want you back on my team, but if you come back in January and say you can’t work for me, I’ll send you anywhere you want.”
Noah was full of conflicting thoughts and emotions. He had planned on resigning, facing denial from Rick, walking out, and never returning.
But maybe he just needed time.
Rick walked to the door, put his hand on the knob. “You’re one of the best men I have ever worked with, Noah.”
Then he left.
Noah stared at the beach scene on the wall. Behind that beach was the safe that had housed the bonds that started this whole mess to begin with. If not for the bonds, Noah would have gone back to his old life, working for Rick, taking interesting but sensitive cases, constantly wondering if there was an ulterior motive to what he was doing.
Now he had options. And for the first time in a long, long time … maybe his entire life … he could make a decision about his future solely based on what he wanted to do. Take time to think, to figure out if he could work under Rick’s ethics, or run his own squad, or teach at Quantico.
Or leave the FBI and seek a third career. Doing what? He didn’t know, but he had two months to make the decision.
Noah sat down, pulled a piece of paper from the printer, and wrote Sean and Lucy a letter. Truly, they had become his closest friends, and the two people he trusted the most.
He couldn’t leave without saying good-bye.
He sealed the letter, slipped it into Sean’s laptop case knowing that even on his honeymoon Sean wouldn’t leave without his computer, and walked out of the den, and out of the house.
He had some soul-searching to do. Two months to make a decision that would affect his future and maybe how he saw himself in the world.
* * *
Sean whisked Lucy away to his office, closed the door, and kissed her.
“Mrs. Rogan.”
She laughed, kissed him back. “What if I want to keep my maiden name?”
“You can call yourself anything you want, but you’ll always be mine.”
She kissed him again, this time without laughter but with a deep longing. “I love you so much.”
“Lucy.” He held her close. His life had fallen apart around him over the last six weeks, except for Lucy.
“We’re going to be okay.”
“I know.” He didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to lose one moment of the time they had together. “I could hold you like this forever.”
They stood there, arms entwined, Lucy’s head on Sean’s shoulder. The noise of the party seemed to disappear. All that Lucy heard was Sean’s heartbeat.
“Let’s leave,” Lucy said.
“We can’t leave. Your parents. Family.”
“We can leave. Jack told me everything is packed, keys in the ignition, and he’ll cover for us.”
“Jack?” Sean smiled. “I really love your brother. All of them, but there’s no one like Jack.”
Lucy touched his face. “Sean—we’re here. We’re married. I love you. Let’s go. We have ten days … where?”
He smiled. She saw some of the weight he’d been carrying disappear, and she almost sighed in relief. “I kept that surprise well, didn’t I?”
“You did.”
“I’m not telling you. Not yet.”
“But you have to—we’re leaving.”
“I’ll give you a hint. We’re driving, not flying. Because I’m really sick of flying right now.”
“Okay. Where are we going?”
“Not Texas.”
“That leaves forty-nine other states.”
“Hmm, it would be hard to drive to Hawaii and too long to drive to Alaska.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you, because I can’t keep it to myself any longer.” He kissed her. “I bought a house—I would say ‘cabin,’ but I had it remodeled and it’s a damn nice two-thousand-square-foot cabin. It’s in Vail, Colorado. Remote, but not too remote. I’d thought about taking you to Hawaii, but really, I just want you to myself. We have everything we need. Food, water, a hot tub. If we want to go into the town, there’s a big art festival this week, or we can go out to dinner. Lots of great restaurants. Or not. I can cook for you every night. We have no plans. No schedule. No time we have to get up or go to bed. We can do anything we want, or nothing at all. But I will be making love to you a lot. I will be kissing you a lot.” To prove it, he leaned down and kissed her. He stepped back and frowned. “Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”
“It’s perfect. I could not have imagined a better honeymoon than you and me, together and alone.”
“Okay.” He blinked. His own eyes were damp. “Then let’s go, Mrs. Kincaid-Rogan. Our wedding night at the hotel, then an early morning drive to Vail.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s Mrs. Rogan to you—and to everyone else.” She kissed him. “And let’s not make it too early. I might want breakfast in bed.” She grinned.
“Which I will be more than happy to accommodate.”
EPILOGUE
Outside Tampico, Mexico
Gabriella wasn’t one for camping, but she agreed with Dante that if they wanted to do this right they needed to stay for the duration. At least until the weather turned.
The sun was setting over the hidden valley, and Dante had already made the fire. There were four-legged predators out here, but somehow, Gabriella felt safer here than she had in a long, long time.
She stirred the pot of stew as it warmed. They had made three trips down here with gear and equipment, and their old friend Philip Corsica would return for them in ten days.
She and Dante had a lot of soul-searching to do in the next ten days.
And a lot of digging.
Dante came up from the cavern. “Nothing has been disturbed,” he said. “I didn’t go far inside, but…” He tossed her what she at first thought was a stone.
She caught it. It wasn’t a stone. It was a rough uncut emerald.
“Oh, my.”
Dante sat down across from her on the log. He pulled out a bottle of Scotch—a pricey bottle she’d told him not to bring because they shouldn’t be drinking while alone in the lost valley, handling dangerous tools and needing to watch for predators. But he had anyway. He poured two fingers in each of two plastic cups, handed one to Gabriella.
“Along the way, Liam lost sight of what was important,” Dante said. “And I didn’t keep him in check.”
“That’s not your fault. Liam had some serious problems. He was obsessed. We knew it, we just didn’t know how bad he was. And truly, Eden enabled him. She did anything Liam wanted her to do—even kidnapping Jack Kincaid’s sister.”
“And she’s paying for it. We got a pass this time, Gabriella.”
“Because of Jack.”
“Because of us. We chose to help, and that earned us some brownie points. But our luck is going to run out.”
“Because the treasure is cursed?”
“Liam cursed himself,” Dante said. “But he was still a friend, and I’m going to miss him.” He held up his cup. “This is for you, Liam. Without you, we’d never have made it this far.” He sipped.
Gabriella drank, put the cup down, and stirred the stew. Tasted it. Blah. She took the Scotch bottle and poured a liberal amount into the stew.
“That’s a two-hundred-dollar bottle!”
“And our dinner will taste much better because of it.” She let the stew simmer. “So when is our so-called luck going to run out?”
“I don’t know, Gabriella, but I do know one thing—I want to enjoy the ride. After Greg’s death, your revenge, Liam’s obsession—my former business—I’m tired of the violence. I just want to have some fun, with whatever time we have left on this earth. I want to fall in love. I want you to find someone else. I want to live.”
She leaned over and squeezed her brother’s hand. “So do I. And unearthing this treasure will go a long way in paying for our lives.” She handed him back the emerald. “Do you know how much that little stone is worth?”
“No.”
“A minimum of twenty thousand dollars.”
Dante remained silent.
“I’d better get up to speed on gems.”
“Yeah,” he said, “because there were six more just like it in the bag.”
“Bag?”
“I didn’t open the chests.
“Chests?”
“I think this is a far bigger find than even Liam knew,” Dante said.
“Do we tell Kane?”
Dante smiled. “Not unless he asks.”
Read on for an excerpt from
SHATTERED
Allison Brennan’s next Maxine Revere thriller, which finds Max teaming up with Lucy Kincaid
Available August 2017 from Minotaur Books
“Andrew? I’m going to put you on speaker. Sean’s here.”
Rookie FBI Agent Lucy Kincaid Rogan put her cell phone down on the island in the kitchen where she and Sean had been eating a late dinner.
“Stanton?” Sean mouthed. Lucy nodded. Her former brother-in-law had never directly called her before, and she’d known him her entire life. She was both suspicious and curious. Why would the DA of San Diego reach out to her? Family or work? She’d last seen him over a year ago during the Christmas holidays, and that hadn’t been under the best of circumstances.
“Hello, Sean,” Andrew said.
“Andrew.”
“I’m sorry to call so late.”
“Nine isn’t late for us,” Lucy said. “Just tell me that everything’s okay.”
“Yes—in a manner of speaking. Your family’s fine, as far as I know. They don’t really talk to me anymore.”
Lucy knew why—her sister Nelia was Andrew’s ex, and Andrew had cheated on Nelia. There was more—a lot more—but Lucy had been so young when they split up she didn’t truly understand the situation. Andrew had always been kind to her, and when she needed his help last Christmas to get information, he’d come through. She respected that.
Andrew continued. “I don’t know exactly how to broach this subject, so I’ll get to the point. An investigative reporter is looking into Justin’s murder. She claims that she has compelling evidence that Justin’s death is connected to two or more homicides in the southwest. She’ll be in San Diego tomorrow.”
That was the last thing Lucy expected Andrew to say. She didn’t know how to respond—her nephew Justin’s murder had haunted her for nearly twenty years, but she’d put it behind her. She’d been seven. So had Justin. They’d been best friends and had grown up together until Justin was kidnapped and murdered. It had torn the family apart.
“A reporter?” Sean said, his voice edged with anger. “Why are you calling Lucy?”
“I think there might be something to this woman’s theory. Lucy, I don’t have a right to ask for your help, but the last time I wanted to revisit Justin’s murder, I ran up against a brick wall known as the Kincaid family.”
That didn’t surprise Lucy. Her family never wanted to discuss Justin or his murder. It had been a dark time in the Kincaid family history. Twenty years was a long time to sit unsolved, and most crimes this old were never solved.
“I didn’t know you had wanted to reopen Justin’s case.”
“As an unsolved homicide, it’s never been closed. Eight years ago—you’d just left for Georgetown.” He paused. “I never told you this, and I don’t want to bring up bad memories.”
“I’m a big girl, Andrew.”
Sean took her hand, lightly kissed it, and held it. She could feel the tension within him—this was nearly as difficult for him as it was for her. The past. Her past.
“After your kidnapping—when you came home—I wanted to be there for you, for your family. Even after everything that has happened, and all the mistakes I’ve made, I care about you and all the Kincaids. Your parents have always been cordial, but your brothers and sister never forgave me. Especially Connor and Carina, maybe because they still live here and I work with them. They didn’t want me around, and I walked away. But I thought maybe—if I could put Justin to rest—they could find peace. Not knowing why someone killed my son…” His voice faded away, then he cleared his throat and said, “I approached your father. He was adamant that I stand down. Carina found out I had pulled the case files, and confronted me—it wasn’t pretty. At the time, Patrick was still in a coma, I knew your family was suffering, you’d moved cross-country, Dillon—who has always been the diplomat of the family, and the only one who I know forgave me—was living in DC. I didn’t have a buffer, so I shelved it.”
“I didn’t know any of that.” It stunned her, truly. She caught Sean’s eye. He was listening closely to Andrew.
Sean said, “Why? If you had something new, why would you shelve it?”
“I didn’t have anything new—I just wanted to look at the case with fresh eyes, time, new technology. But I couldn’t put your family through a new investigation when they had nearly lost you, Lucy, and Patrick’s future was so uncertain.”
“I understand,” Lucy said, and she did. “And the reporter changed your mind.”
“Yes. She has. But your family isn’t going to want to go through this, and I don’t want to hurt them.”
“Then why do it at all?” Sean asked.
“Because Maxine Revere is going to investigate whether I want her to or not. And honestly, Sean? I want answers. God, I want to know what happened. For years I deferred my pain to your family—Nelia’s family. When every lead dried up, they put it behind them. Not completely—I know Justin haunts them as much as he haunts me. But Nelia moved to Idaho, and that was it. They wanted no part of me, no part of my ideas or talking about what happened. But I’m a prosecutor—having any crime unsolved bothers me, but my own son? It’s fingernails on the chalkboard, every waking minute. I’ve looked into this Revere woman. She has a solid track record solving cold cases.”
“But what is she going to do after?” Sean asked. He caught Lucy’s eye. She knew exactly what he was thinking. “Lucy and I steer clear of reporters.”
“She wants my help, and I plan on laying down ground rules. Protecting you is my number-one priority, Lucy.”
“I don’t need your protection, Andrew.” Lucy saw the darkness cross Sean’s face. She took his hand. “What do you want from me? Do you want me to talk to my family? Convince them to cooperate? Talk to this reporter?”
“Actually, I want you to listen to what Revere has to say. You’re an FBI agent. You have the training and experience to weed through the bullshit and get to the meat. I know you’ve had a rocky start to your career—but I have friends in high places, Lucy. You have closed some extremely difficult cases.”
True, though she wasn’t the only agent involved in those complex cases.
Andrew continued. “In hindsight, I don’t think anyone understood the pain you went through when Justin died. He was as close as a brother to you, we all knew that, but in his death everyone seemed to forget that you were grieving. They shielded you from the investigation, from the truth of what happened that night because you were only seven years old. You’re probably the only Kincaid who doesn’t have a preconceived notion as to anything that happened. I think you’re the only one who can look at the evidence with an unbiased eye. Who doesn’t blame me.”
“No one blames you, Andr
ew.”
He laughed, but it was filled with anguish and sorrow. “I wish that were true. Connor said it when the truth came out—when your family found out I was having an affair. He said if I’d been there, at home that night and not in bed with my mistress, Justin would have been alive. A bit more crudely, but that was his message. There’s not been a day that has passed that I haven’t thought about that, whether it was true. If I am ultimately, even indirectly, to blame.” He took a deep breath. “Nell and I have made peace with each other. I talk to her, once a year, on Justin’s birthday. We made a lot of mistakes, but Justin wasn’t one of them. She’s content now. She has Tom, he’s been good for her, and while I don’t know if she’s happy, I know she’s at peace. I don’t want to hurt her. I will keep her out of this as best I can, but in the end, she may have information that she doesn’t know she has. I know that no one, not even Dillon, will discuss it with her. Except you. I think you would do it.”
What did that make Lucy? Cruel? Was that what Andrew thought of her, because she had a reputation for being cold?
“Andrew—”
“I don’t know that it’ll come to that,” he said, interrupting her. “I’d just like you to hear what this woman has to say. If you tell me there’s nothing, that going down this path will result in no answers and only heartache for your family, I’ll do everything in my power to stop her. But if you see what I see, that we might finally get answers as to why Justin died, that we might find out who killed him … I don’t have anyone else, Lucy.”
“A moment, Andrew,” Sean said. He put the phone on mute. “It’s your choice, Lucy. Whatever you decide, I’m with you.”
Make Them Pay Page 34
