The Third to Die

by Allison Brennan

  “I did?”

  “Not in so many words.” She smiled. “Deal?”

  Matt had a feeling this was as close as Kara would allow him to get. And she was right—they both needed to get back to work.

  Though he really, really wanted twenty-four hours alone with her. Just the two of them. No case, no violence, no clothes.

  Instead, he said, “You’re right.”

  “I usually am.”

  52

  Saturday, March 13

  Los Angeles, California

  8:00 a.m.

  Kara arrived back in LA the previous night, leaving Spokane right after Andy’s funeral. She did everything she could not to go into the office straight from the airport. Instead, she went home to her condo in Santa Monica, both hating and loving the traffic. Hating it because who the hell liked all the people and sitting on the freeway for hours? But loving it because it was familiar.

  She was back. She never wanted to leave again.

  She opened all the windows in her condo and enjoyed the cool ocean air. She paid a pretty penny for the tiny one bedroom on the beach, but she didn’t need a lot of space and it had an ocean view. She had a trusted neighbor—a rarity for her, because she didn’t trust many people—keep an eye on her place, but she didn’t like anyone going inside when she wasn’t home. So she lived sparsely—no plants to water, no pets to feed. Though it was a two-room spread, it was all hers—her sanctuary. She had mail go to a PO Box near the police station; all her bills were paid automatically through her bank; and none of her neighbors even knew she was a cop. She could be anyone she wanted, and she wanted to blend in at home so no one would look twice at her.

  But even though she slept in her own bed in her own apartment, she didn’t sleep well, or long. She wondered what Matt Costa was doing, and if she would ever see him again.

  Does it matter?

  No, she convinced herself. It didn’t matter. Sure, they had fun—but he was also arrogant and judgmental, and she didn’t need to account for her lifestyle or her career to anyone. She wouldn’t mind sharing a vacation with him, however. There was something powerful about having sex with him. And she couldn’t discount that, because she had rarely felt so intimate with anyone.

  Yes, it scared her.

  Maybe they could spend a week in Hawaii where they could play hard and make love harder. She had been to Hawaii once, alone, loved it. Had always wanted to return; never found the time. Never made the time. One week, then go back to their jobs. She wasn’t into long-term relationships, and neither was he. That would work for her, she figured.

  Still. She’d probably never see him again.

  Even though she wasn’t technically supposed to be back to work until Monday, Lex had left a message on her phone Friday night.

  “You left Spokane? Don’t screw with this case. Call me.”

  Instead of calling, she went down to the station at eight Saturday morning and brought Lex his favorite flavored coffee from his favorite trendy coffee shop.

  “I’m back!” she announced with a smile and put the coffee down on her boss’s desk.

  He stared at her for a long moment, long enough that she knew he wasn’t happy to see her. He was tired, looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

  She slammed his door shut. “I know,” she said, “I can’t come back until Monday, yada yada. But we wrapped things up in Spokane and I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to leave. Just give me a case to research, and I promise I’ll spend all my time at the computer this weekend working up a plan instead of in the field.”

  “The FBI called me last night. Tony Greer, an assistant director. He runs the Mobile Response Team.”

  “Yep. Heard of him.”

  “His staff submitted a report, wants to put a commendation in your file.”

  “That’s nice of them. I didn’t do anything that any other good cop wouldn’t have done.” He was buttering her up for something bad. Lex always did it like this—gave her something good, then pulled the rug out from under her.

  Still, she waited. Watched.

  Damn, he started tapping his fingers on his desk. This was really bad.

  “The feds took our case.”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t speak.

  “Chen is out on bail.”

  “Bail? That’s fucking bullshit. He’s a flight risk! He’ll go under again. It’ll take us weeks to flush him out.”

  “And that reporter from KTAG outed you.”

  She opened her mouth. Closed it. Her fists clenched.

  “You’re burned, Kara. There’s no going back, not undercover, not here.”

  She shook her head. She almost couldn’t speak. “How?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  Lex turned around and pressed a couple buttons on the small television behind him. A tape started to play, a news broadcast. “It aired Tuesday night, prime time, after Chen made bail.”

  The beginning was just rehashing the sweatshop network in Chinatown that Chen and his cronies had run. How many indentured slaves they had from China, most illegal aliens brought here against their will, threatened, some citizens who were forced into work to protect their families. Chen had run six sweatshops locally and they’d shut them all down. The victims were being processed and helped—but that wasn’t Kara’s job. Kara’s job was to stop the brutality and take down the principals. And she’d done it.

  “LAPD claimed that a tip from someone inside Chen’s network led them into a yearlong investigation that culminated in the arrest of thirty-two individuals and the identification of more than nine hundred forced labor workers. The oldest worker was a ninety-six-year-old woman, the youngest an eight-year-old boy who’d been told his mother would be killed if he didn’t ‘pull his weight.’

  “But new revelations indicate that LAPD had an undercover officer deeply embedded in David Chen’s criminal organization for nearly a year. Detective Kara Quinn posed as a clothing buyer in order to gain the trust of the organization—and access to their records.”

  Kara’s LAPD graduation photo came on screen, followed by the clip of her frisking the dead Xavier Fong after he threw the knife at her.

  “Questions about the ethics of such deep cover investigations have been asked by both civil and victim’s rights groups—namely, what did Detective Quinn know about the working conditions of the sweatshops and when did she learn it? Could she have saved the lives of those who died from abuse and deplorable conditions over the year she was in deep cover? How far do undercover operations go—and how are they justified? Join me tonight and all this week for a deep investigative report into the dark side of LAPD undercover operations.”

  Kara kicked Lex’s file cabinet. She left a dent. It wasn’t the first. “No. No! This is bullshit, Lex! She can’t get away with this. Did she out anyone else? Did she—”

  By the look on Lex’s face, the news was worse than she had thought.

  “Colton Fox was killed Thursday night. We don’t know if the gang knew he was a cop or just suspected, but it happened the night this bitch ran her exposé on how you—a white girl—infiltrated a Mexican gang.”

  That was years ago, when she was right out of the academy. They knew everything—everything they should never have known.

  “Thornton,” she spat.

  “I went to bat for you, ran this up to the top, had Thornton reamed a new one. He’s not getting away clean on this. But the damage has been done.”

  She sat down because she felt sick. “He needs to be fired. Prosecuted! He got Colton killed. That’s on him. Dammit, that’s on him!”

  Tears burned behind her eyes. She and Colton had worked so many ops together that it was like being married. And, yeah, they’d hit the hay together a few times. Relieve stress and all that. But more, they were friends. He was one of the few people she trusted in this business. He’d alway
s had her back... And she always had his, until now.

  If she hadn’t been sent away, she could have stopped this.

  As if Lex read her mind, he said, “You couldn’t have saved him.”

  “I have to work it. You can’t pull this from me.”

  “If I let you work it, it would be from behind a desk.”

  “You know that won’t do shit! I have to go out. I can change—dye my hair. Get new tats. Remember when I went under at the punk club? No one recognized me, not even you.”

  “No.”

  “I can—what? No? You can’t mean that. Lex—”

  “Do you think I like this? Colton is dead. He was mine, my cop, my responsibility.”

  She knew this was hard on Lex, but she couldn’t ride a desk. “Chen—” she began.

  He cut her off. “You’ve been burned. Your life is in danger. The feds have the Chen case, and he’s out walking free. He will have you killed, Kara. I can’t let you go out on the street again.”

  Kara stared at the face of the reporter, frozen when Lex paused the recording. “I could kill her.” She meant it. The damn reporter and then Bryce Thornton. Colton was dead because of them. First Andy, then Colton. How many good cops had to die? It wasn’t fucking fair! Life isn’t fair, Kara, and you damn well know it.

  “There’s another option.”

  “I’ll take it. Anything.”

  Damn, she sounded desperate. All she wanted was her life back the way it was. And now everything had gone to shit.

  “The FBI offered you a position. I’m talking to this assistant director, um, Tony Greer, shortly to hash out the details. Then I’ll bring it to you, okay?”

  “I’m not working for the FBI.”

  “Listen to me, Kara! You are burned. You can’t work in the field. Hell, I don’t even think you would be safe if I put you in uniform and assigned you to fucking airport duty! You need to leave Los Angeles. Chen is going to put a hit out on you if he hasn’t done it already. And either you leave LA without a badge, or you consider their offer.”

  “Offer.” She said it as if it was a nasty word.

  “Greer has to check a few things, but he knows that you were burned, and he has sympathy—I told him what happened between you and Thornton years ago, and that this was a personal vendetta by one of theirs to destroy one of ours. He was surprisingly contrite and receptive to my comments. You’d still be LAPD assigned to the DC-FBI, specifically their Mobile Response Team. I’ll know more in a couple hours. Look—they value you and what you can contribute. Greer thinks that an undercover cop has an unusual and useful skill set. And you’d be back here when Chen goes to trial.”

  “If he doesn’t leave the country first,” she snapped.

  Had Matt set this up? Had he convinced Greer to hire her? Why?

  She didn’t think so. That wasn’t his style. Still, none of this was sitting well with her.

  “Kara—go home. Relax.” He laughed. “What am I saying? I know you. Go to the gun range and blow off some steam. Come back at three this afternoon, and I’ll lay out the deal for you. This may be a great career opportunity.”

  “I’m not in this job for career advancement.”

  “Don’t I know it,” he muttered.

  “There has to be something we can do.”

  “Kara, this is truly the only option if you want to stay alive and keep your badge. And dammit—watch your back.”

  53

  Sunday, March 14

  Stafford, Virginia

  Afternoon

  “Uncle Matt! You made it!”

  Elizabeth ran into his arms and hugged him. Affection washed over Matt at the unconditional, innocent love of a child. Though Lizzy was hardly a child—she was a preteen. Eleven.

  He handed her a small wrapped box. “Happy birthday, kid.”

  She smiled, looking both like her mom and dad—and her aunt Beth. The pain that shot through him was real, then it was gone.

  “Mom and Dad are on the patio. I gotta go, but I’ll be right back!” She ran upstairs, taking them two at a time, and disappeared down the hall.

  Matt stood in the entryway. The party was out back, but he took this moment to regroup. He hadn’t been in this house since Beth’s funeral eight months ago. He’d come then out of duty, when all he’d wanted to do was fight back. When some cops turned to the bottle out of grief or anger, he turned to his fists. He’d learned to temper his anger by beating up dummies and punching bags instead of people, but there were times when his rage returned, and it took every ounce of his self-control to tame it.

  Beth had been dead nearly nine months. A year this coming July. The guilt that came with her life and death was still with him, but it had shifted, changed. He didn’t know when. He didn’t know if he would be able to forgive himself for not loving Beth like she loved him. Maybe he was incapable of loving anyone. He’d let Kara leave.

  You couldn’t have made her stay. Her life isn’t with you; her life isn’t even her.

  Kara would stay in Los Angeles because that’s where she could disappear into her dangerous world. That’s what she wanted, and Matt knew from himself and everyone around him that you couldn’t change people who didn’t want to change.

  And he didn’t want to change her. Then she wouldn’t be Kara. He just wished... Hell, what did he wish? That he could spend more time with her? That he could get to know her—the real her? Even now, after he had a couple days to reflect, he wasn’t sure she had ever shown him her real self.

  If she knew who her real self was.

  Kara would stick with him for a long, long time. She’d told him they’d find time—a couple days when they both had time off. Right. Because they both had jobs that enabled them to take time off.

  Chris walked in from the back and seemed surprised to see Matt.

  “Catherine said it was okay for me to come,” Matt said.

  “You’re always welcome,” Chris said.

  “Lizzy ran upstairs, if you’re looking for her.”

  “Her friends are up there. The adults are around back. Want a beer?”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “Thanks.”

  “You’re not blood, but you’re family. That’s not going to change.”

  Matt followed Chris to the kitchen, where he retrieved two beers from the refrigerator, but instead of taking him out back with the crowd of birthday guests, they went down the hall to Chris’s office. Matt was relieved. He wasn’t quite ready to socialize.

  Chris tapped the neck of his bottle to Matt’s and drank. “Catherine told me about the case.”

  “We couldn’t have solved it without her. She also told you I want her on my team. I was surprised when she said you were okay with me coming here.”

  Chris nodded. “We both care about Catherine, but I love her, and you need to give her more time.”

  “It’s been nearly a year, Chris.”

  “You need time.”

  Matt shook his head.

  “You jumped right back into work after Beth died.”

  “Beth was murdered, Chris. I couldn’t sit back and trust someone else to catch the bastard who killed her.”

  “You know it’s more complicated than that.”

  Matt knew, but he didn’t comment.

  “I want Catherine home. I’m close to bringing her back, and I won’t have you ruin it.”

  “I want her back home, too. I’m on your side, Chris. I always have been. Catherine is the best profiler the FBI has, and I need her. But I won’t push it right now. Fair enough?”

  Chris nodded. “I convinced Catherine to pull her resignation.”

  That surprised Matt. “I thought you wanted her to quit.”

  “No. I want Catherine to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. But Catherine isn’t someone who can let herself be happy, not like
other people.”

  Matt thought about himself. About Kara. Was Kara happy? He didn’t think so. But she was comfortable in her own skin. She had a confidence about herself that most people didn’t have.

  “I’m teaching a six-week seminar in England starting in April. Catherine and Lizzy are joining me. I lecture twice a week, then we’re going to do things as a family. We’ll be back Memorial Day weekend, and Catherine’s boss has given her a sabbatical through June 1. I’m asking you to leave her alone until then. Let her make her own decision.”

  Matt hesitated, then he nodded. “I told her to take the sabbatical.”

  “I know you did, and I think that might have helped. We both want what’s best for her. Just sometimes—what we think is best differs. She needs me, Matt, to keep her level. You know how she gets when she works a case. You know how dark it is inside the minds of these people. If she’s going to continue going there, she has to have a secure, a safe, home base.”

  “That’s exactly what I want her to have, too.”

  Chris nodded. “I’m glad you came. Come out when you’re ready. Fair warning—Catherine’s mother is here.”

  “I’ll avoid her as best I can.”

  “Good idea.”

  Chris left Matt alone in his office. Chris was right—about so many things. He was a good man, and if anyone could help Catherine get through the pain and grief of losing her sister, it was her husband.

  Matt pulled out his cell phone. He was both surprised and disappointed that he had no messages.

  He wanted to talk to Kara. Just to make sure she got back to LA in one piece. Just to hear her voice.

  He called her cell phone. Immediately, a recording sounded.

  The number you have reached has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you believe you reached this recording in error, hang up and try again.

  Matt looked at his phone. The name Kara Quinn was on the screen. He’d been calling her at this number all week.