No Good Deed

by Allison Brennan

  “Yes. I just got off the phone with Clark—the agent still on medical leave from the shootout in McAllen—and he’s broken up but is going into the office. I just left a message for Sam. She’s probably already dealing with the fallout, but we need to know if this is connected to Nicole Rollins.”

  “What happened?”

  “Tom was meeting with an informant yesterday at approximately eleven p.m. Both Tom and the informant were found dead early this morning in an alley by local police. Each was shot twice in the chest. From the evidence, it looks like they were killed where they were found. We just don’t have anything else to go on, and Tom had been on edge since Operation Heatwave. Pushing boundaries, trying to find Tobias. He wasn’t working with anyone. After Kane lost one of his informants two weeks ago, I told Tom to keep a low profile—I thought he was, but now this?”

  “Barry Crawford is missing.”

  “Well, fuck. Dunbar, Crawford, Saldana—does she plan on killing every federal agent in Texas? Taking out our people one by one? Some sort of vendetta against the DEA and the FBI?”

  “You need to tell Durant. Everyone needs to be on full alert,” Lucy said. “Especially you, Brad.”

  Nate approached. “Durant wants you in her office,” he said to Lucy.

  “Come with me.” Lucy motioned for Brad to follow.

  “What happened?” Nate said.

  “A DEA agent was killed last night, along with his informant,” Lucy said.

  “Houston is coming in—the SAC himself, Edward Moody. Probably an entourage as well.” Brad paused, glanced at Nate, then kept talking. “After I left you and Sean, I went to see her. She’s lost agents before, but not like this. Tom’s murder is like rubbing salt in the wound.”

  Not just for Sam Archer, but for Brad, Lucy thought. For all of them.

  Nate said quietly to Lucy, “Let me know if you leave.”

  She nodded, and Nate walked back to the Violent Crimes Squad wing. She didn’t like this protective detail, and Nate couldn’t put aside his own work to watch her back. She didn’t think Sean had thought this through well enough. Brad gave her an odd look. “I’ll explain later,” she said.

  As soon as they walked into Abigail Durant’s office, Lucy smiled. “Hans,” she said.

  He walked over and took her hands into both of his. She noticed he still had a slight limp, even though he’d been back from his medical leave for two months. “Lucy, it is so good to see you.” He looked at the ring on her left hand, and his grin widened. “Congratulations. When?”

  “Sean proposed last weekend. We haven’t set a date yet.”

  “He’s a good man. And lucky.” Hans kissed her on the cheek. It made her feel awkward, in front of her boss and Brad, but she was thrilled to see Hans again.

  He stepped back and extended his hand to Brad. “You must be Agent Donnelly. I’m Hans Vigo, with the FBI.” Hans motioned toward the small conference table in the corner of Durant’s office. “We have a lot of work to do, and not a lot of time.”

  Brad glanced at Durant. “Ma’am, I came in because we have a situation. One of our agents was murdered last night in McAllen. He was connected to Operation Heatwave—he’s the one who uncovered the missing money from the evidence locker that helped lead us to uncover Rollins’s duplicity.”

  “Do you think his murder is connected to her escape?” Durant asked.

  “I don’t know, but after Agent Dunbar was killed the other night, we need to assume it’s connected. In the last decade, only a dozen DEA agents have been killed in the line of duty, and half of them were outside of our borders. In the last two days? Three.”

  Lucy said, “After talking to Agent Armstrong in DC last night, he believes Agent Dunbar’s murder is related to his work here, but we have no proof yet.”

  “Dr. Vigo, thoughts?” Durant asked.

  “Ms. Rollins is perfectly capable of orchestrating the hits, and I would suggest that all your agents be extra diligent until she’s back in prison. In particularly, anyone who worked on Operation Heatwave or the Worthington case.”

  Durant frowned but didn’t comment. “I’ll speak with Ritz and we’ll issue a memo this morning. But we’ve already told every agent, here and at the DEA, that no one is to work alone. That was partly because of Agent Donnelly’s concern that Rollins has someone inside.”

  She turned to Brad. “Brad, if it’s true that Rollins is targeting individuals who had a direct hand in her capture and imprisonment, my guess is that you’re at the top of her list.”

  “I’m well aware.”

  “If you need a protective detail, let me know. We’re in this together, there’re no interagency problems. Ritz has spoken with your SAC Moody several times in the last two days. San Antonio DEA is a small, regional office and we have the staff and resources to cover anything you need.” She picked up her briefcase and walked to the door. “I’m going to leave you three in here while I talk to Ritz, then I’ll call Sam and we’ll work out the details. Dr. Vigo, thank you again for coming out so quickly. Feel free to use my desk.” She left, closing the door behind her.

  Hans instead sat at the small round table in the corner. Lucy and Brad sat across from him. “Lucy, I read your reports—everything from Operation Heatwave through the Worthington investigation and your memos to Abigail. You want to interview a prostitute named Elise Hansen, the girl who may have killed Harper Worthington?”

  “She killed him,” Lucy said. “I have no doubt that she knew exactly what she was doing.”

  Hans flipped through the reports. “She claims she was threatened and coerced.”

  “Perhaps that’s how it started,” Lucy said, carefully picking her words, “but Elise Hansen is a sociopath. Her statements are designed to elicit sympathy. If she is in fact related to Tobias, I would say that she’s part of the inner circle.” She paused. “I talked to her face-to-face, Hans. She’s manipulative and cagey. She knows exactly what she’s doing and why. More, she enjoys it. Everything is a game to her. I’ve never met anyone like her before. She’s not afraid of prison, she’s not afraid of dying, she’s not afraid of getting hurt.”

  “You’ve gotten into her head,” Hans said.

  “Not fast enough,” Lucy said. “She had me and Tia—Detective Tia Mancini with SAPD—fooled for a while. Because of that, Tia nearly died. She won’t be back on duty for at least two months.”

  “I don’t think Hansen fooled you,” Hans said. “I read everything you wrote, Lucy, and while you left some things out, I read between the lines.”

  She frowned. “I didn’t leave anything out.”

  “You were diligent, but you left out your opinion—until the memo last night to Abigail where you shared some of your opinion under the guise of profiling.”

  Lucy wasn’t sure she understood Hans. She said, “At first I believed what she wanted me to believe when I walked into the crime scene. That Harper Worthington was a pervert who liked to screw teenage girls. I sympathized with her, expecting her to be a typical underage prostitute—abused as a child, used by a boyfriend or pimp, angry and scared of the failed system.”

  “Like the girls you helped in DC last summer.”

  She nodded. “After I talked to her, I thought she was hiding things, but I also knew that I had to build trust. I believed she was using her anger and fear to cover up the pain of her past. But evidence doesn’t lie. Too many things didn’t make sense. Her reactions were right on … yet they didn’t feel right. Almost … as if her reactions weren’t quite natural. I didn’t figure it out in time.”

  “But you caught on before anyone else,” Hans said.

  “I don’t know—”

  “I read all the reports on this matter. It’s clear that Elise Hansen is a sociopath, surprisingly mature considering her age.” He looked at his watch. “It’s well after nine, what time can we talk to her?”

  Brad said, “I talked to Sam last night—ASAC Samantha Archer, my boss—and she said Lucy is on the short list of who’
s allowed to speak to her. The AUSA may want to observe.”

  “They’ll get in the way,” Hans said. “Their interest in this case may not perfectly align with our interest. I’ll take any heat from the DOJ, if it comes to that.”

  Lucy said, “I should talk to her alone. Elise doesn’t respect men. I don’t know that I can get her to slip up—she’s far too shrewd to let me manipulate her—but the information I want may seem innocuous. So I’m going to give her information. She’ll like that, and she’ll be giddy if she thinks that I’m frustrated or let something slip out. But I have to play this very carefully, because she is extremely astute.”

  Brad had been looking at his phone on and off while Lucy spoke. Now she asked, “Is something wrong?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. He put his phone down. “I told Lucy last night that I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to have a sit-down with Elise.”

  “Why?” Hans asked.

  “Because Brad thinks that Elise got under my skin last time I saw her.”

  “She did,” Brad said.

  Lucy bristled. “Not as much as you think. But I’m better prepared now. Ten days ago? I wasn’t. I went in still thinking there might be hope to save her. I was disturbed, more than anything. And she played off one of my fears—that she would be able to manipulate her way out of serious jail time. That’s her plan, and maybe she can—I don’t know anything about her court-appointed psychiatrist. But Elise won’t get out without me fighting every step of the way to give her the maximum sentence.”

  Hans looked down. “Barbara Oakley. I don’t know her.” He flipped a page. “Elise Hansen hasn’t been charged with anything.”

  “The AUSA is an asshole,” Lucy said. Then she blushed. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Hansen’s under a fourteen-day psych hold,” Hans said.

  “Which expires tomorrow,” Brad said.

  “That’s why Tobias didn’t break her out—he doesn’t have to,” Lucy said. “Why didn’t I see this last night?”

  “But there are going to be charges,” Hans said.

  “Are there?”

  Hans frowned. “I don’t have any more information on this than you do, but there appears to be ample evidence.”

  “If you listen to her side of the story, she was threatened into killing Harper Worthington. If they put her in a group home or juvie, it’s only a matter of days before she slips away.” Hours, Lucy thought.

  “Let’s talk to her, then the AUSA,” Hans said. “There’s precedence for keeping her up to thirty days in a psych facility. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll arrange for protective custody.”

  “Tobias doesn’t want her dead,” Brad said, again looking at his phone.

  “But we can make an argument that he does,” Hans countered.

  Brad rose. “I want to go with you, but I have to check in at my office.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Sam had a meeting with Moody thirty minutes ago. She texted me before nine saying she was going to be late. I just texted her to find out where she was, but she hasn’t gotten back to me or returned any of the calls from her admin. I need to cover for her.”

  “Go,” Lucy said. “But take someone with you. Durant has already cleared it, and she’s right about one thing—you’ve pissed off Nicole more than anyone.”

  “She’s wrong about that,” Brad said.

  “Now is not the time to play hero. Take the help, Brad.”

  “I will, but you and your future brother-in-law are the two who should really watch out. Nicole might hate me, but she knows that it was you and Kane Rogan who took her down.” Suddenly he stopped talking. “Oh shit, Lucy.”

  She closed her eyes. “It’s okay.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  “It’s okay. Really.” She glanced at Hans. “I’ll explain.”

  “Explain in the car,” Hans said.

  Brad left, and Lucy tapped Nate to drive them to the county jail. Though Elise was a minor, the county jail had one of the few secure psychiatric facilities in the area that also included a juvenile wing. And since she hadn’t been charged—officially—with a crime, it was the only place they could secure Elise until the fourteen-day observation period was over.

  Lucy was in the backseat while Nate drove. She said, “Nate—I need to tell Hans something off the record.”

  “My ears are sealed.”

  Lucy suspected Nate already knew what she was about to say. If not because Sean had told him, then because he’d figured it out on his own.

  She said, “Three months ago, when Brad Donnelly was kidnapped, I—”

  Hans interrupted her. “Don’t tell me.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t know what Agent Donnelly meant by his comment, and I don’t care.”

  She frowned. She realized that she’d created this mess. She’d gone to Mexico as part of the rescue operation, she’d put herself in danger. She wanted to come clean.

  “I recognize that Rollins has a particular reason to put you in her sights,” Hans continued. “I’m not, however, going to let you destroy your career.” He paused. “I’m fairly certain that Rick Stockton is intimately familiar with every RCK operation that crosses paths with the FBI.”

  She didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried.

  “Lucy,” Hans said, changing the subject, “I heard that Sean is funding a group home for the boys rescued from Trejo’s cartel.”

  “Yes, with Saint Catherine’s, my church.”

  “It’s an extremely generous contribution.”

  “Sean wanted to. Those boys were broken. They needed peace. A home. Father Mateo has been great with them.”

  “I also heard that some of the boys didn’t make it.”

  A flash of the dead clouded her vision for a moment. She blinked, putting the image of boys tossed away like garbage out of her mind. She didn’t want a nightmare tonight, especially with Sean out of town. “They were murdered,” she said. “Shot and killed in front of the others to force compliance. Left to rot in the same building where the boys were locked up.”

  “One of the problems with … vague reports,” Hans said cryptically, “is that those who witnessed such violence may not seek out the help they need.”

  “I know what you’re saying,” she said. “The boys have counseling, and they have Sean. He’s good with them.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the boys.”

  She bit her lip. “I had a problem with nightmares for a while, but it’s over. And I have Sean.”

  “And he has you.”

  Spontaneously, she said, “Stay at our house. Sean is out of town and we have plenty of room. More than enough.”

  “Sean left you alone? With Rollins on the loose?”

  “No, sir,” Nate said, “Sean left her with me.”

  “Nate—Dunning, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I read your file.”

  “Sir?”

  Hans laughed. “I was the assistant director at Quantico when you went through the academy.”

  Nate almost blushed. “I didn’t make the connection. I apologize.”

  “Now they’ve stuck me in headquarters. I wish I could go back to Quantico.”

  “If you really wanted to, you’d make it happen,” Lucy said.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” he said. “Where is Sean? It’s not like him to leave during a situation like this.”

  “There may be some trouble with Kane. It could be nothing—communications failure. Or he might be in real trouble.”

  “Rollins,” Hans said.

  “She won’t kill him quietly. She’ll be bold about it. She’ll want everyone to know that she took him out.” But Lucy’s gut churned. What was Sean getting himself into?

  “You already have a profile on her.”

  “A beginning. That’s why I want to talk to Elise, then to Chris, Nicole’s brother.”

  Nate said, “On that, I spoke to m
y former commanding officer at Fort Hood. Chris Rollins is deployed in Afghanistan. He’s a lieutenant, has a spotless service record. Career military—he was ROTC in college, and has been an active service member for sixteen years. He volunteered to do another tour in Afghanistan. It’s a hard life, but for some people it’s exactly what they need.”

  “Can we talk to him?”

  “Not a problem. His commander is already aware we want to speak to him. They’re ten hours ahead of us where he’s stationed.”

  “Anytime he can talk, I’ll make myself available.”

  “Good call, Lucy,” Hans said. “You’re trying to figure out what their childhood was like.”

  “I want to know why she lied to me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “She told me—this was during Operation Heatwave, when she had no reason to lie—that she lived in Kansas until she was fourteen with her brothers. It was a nothing conversation, about tornadoes or something innocuous. Yet she has only one brother, and she lived in Kansas for only fourteen months, when she was much younger. So there was some truth, but it was twisted.”

  “That’s interesting. Is she a pathological liar?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “It was more like … a game. Just like Elise. And if the truth came out, she could say she misspoke, or that I misheard, or that the conversation never took place. It wasn’t anything I would need or care to verify.”

  “That kind of lying suggests a compulsion.”

  “In hindsight, I think that she was trying to build a rapport with me of some sort. She knew I came from a large family, but she didn’t realize that—except for me—my brothers and sisters were raised like she was, in a military family moving base-to-base. Had she known that, it might have changed what she said. Her father left the military when she was still young, became a cop. He was killed in the line of duty when she was fifteen. I’ve sent a request to the LA field office to find out more about his death.”

  “Hmm,” Hans said. Lucy didn’t know what he meant by that, and he didn’t elaborate.

  Nate showed his badge to the security guard outside the jail, and was directed to the opposite end of the facility. He parked, they went through security and relinquished their weapons, then were escorted to a holding room. The guard told them it would be at least ten minutes while they moved the prisoner to an interview room.