by Blake Pierce
“Mom…are you sure?”
“I’m positive.”
She leaned over and wrapped Melissa up in a hug. Michelle squirmed in her lap, reaching up with a free hand to clutch her grandma’s hair. “I was scared when Michelle was going through all of that hospital mess, too,” she said as they embraced. “Maybe Terry just never processed it. Give him a chance to explain. And if he gives you a hard time, remind him that your mother carries a gun.”
Melissa laughed as they broke the hug. Michelle laughed too, clapping her chubby little hands together.
“Tell Alan I said I’m sorry,” Melissa said.
“I will. And if things get weird tonight, let me know. You’re always welcome to stay here if you need a break from it all.”
Melissa nodded and kissed Michelle on the head. “You be good for Grandma, okay?”
Michelle had no response to this, as she was currently slapping at one of the buttons on Kate’s shirt. Kate watched Melissa leave and could clearly see just how torn she was. It made Kate wonder if things were worse at home than she was letting on.
Once the door was closed, Kate looked down at Michelle and gave her a smile. Michelle happily returned it as she reached up for her grandmother’s nose.
“Is Mommy happy at home?” Kate asked. “Are Mommy and Daddy doing okay?”
Michelle grabbed her nose and squeezed, as if reminding her of her duties. Kate grinned and stuck her tongue out, realizing that maybe watching Michelle could be a date in its own right.
***
When Kate answered the door for Alan fifteen minutes later, he looked both happy and confused. His eyes were alight and sparkling as they usually were when they took in the sight of Kate. He then saw the ten-month-old baby in her arms, causing his eyes to narrow into confusion. He smiled regardless, as Kate had told Melissa the truth less than half an hour ago; Alan loved Michelle almost as much as Kate did.
“I think she’s a little young to be serving as a third wheel,” Alan said.
“I know. Look, Alan, I’m sorry. But there’s been a change of plans…like in the past half an hour. Melissa and Terry are going through a hard time. Terry is being really distant and weird. They have to work through some stuff…”
Alan shrugged nonchalantly. “Am I still invited in?”
“Of course.”
He kissed them both—first Kate on the lips and then Michelle on the forehead—before stepping inside. Kate’s heart warmed toward him at once. First of all, he looked handsome as always. He’d dressed nicely for their date, but not too nice. He managed to always dress in a way that made it look like he could fit in at a cocktail patio on the beach or a swanky downtown restaurant.
“You think they’ll be okay?” Alan asked.
“I think so. I think Michelle’s health scare rocked Terry more than he knew. It’s just now starting to catch up with him and I think it might be affecting their marriage.”
“That’s rough,” Alan said. He opened his hands to Michelle and she instantly reached for him. As he snuggled her close and she slapped at his cheek, Alan regarded Kate with what wasn’t quite concern, but something close.
“Did she not even call?” he asked.
“She tried and…damn. I still forgot to take it off silent. Went to the dentist for a checkup.”
She took her phone out of her purse and switched the ringer back on. She saw at once where Melissa had indeed tried to call her an hour and twenty minutes ago.
“Well, you know, we can have the date here,” he said. “We can call up some Thai food and watch a movie. And the ending part of it all could be the same.”
Kate nodded and smiled, but her attention was still on her phone. She had missed another call as well. And the number had tried calling twice, having left a message the last time.
It was a call from DC—from Director Duran.
“Kate?”
She blinked and looked away from the phone. She hated that she felt like she had been caught doing something bad.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just…work called, too. About three hours ago.”
“Return the call then,” Alan said. He was pretending to dance with Michelle and although he wore a happy face, Kate could sense some irritation lurking beneath. But she also knew that he’d only press her harder to go ahead and make the call if she refused.
“One second,” she said, walking into the kitchen and returning Duran’s call.
The phone rang only twice before it was answered. Even in something as simple as “hello,” Duran sounded pissed.
“Kate, there you are. Where have you been?”
“My phone was on silent. Sorry. Is everything okay?”
“Well, when you didn’t answer the last time, I’ve sort of been scrambling around.”
“Over what?”
“There’s a case out in Illinois—two murders that seem related but there’s no hard link. It’s pretty much stumped the local PD, and the field office out of Chicago pointed out that you were familiar with the area…the Fielding case you cracked in 2002. They said they’re glad to put their own agents on it, but were asking if you’d rather take it. They’re kind of excited about the idea of getting you back out there.”
“When?”
“I’d like to get you on a plane tonight. Get you and DeMarco out there nice and early in the morning.”
“What are the details?”
“I can send you what I have, but there’s still some stuff coming in. Police reports, forensics, all of that. Can I count on you?”
Kate looked back over at Alan, still dancing with Michelle. She was bopping him on the nose and on the mouth while he sang a Bob Dylan song to her. If she took the case, she’d have to call Melissa back and tell her she couldn’t keep Michelle. Not tonight. And she’d also have to cancel plans with Alan.
“What happens if I can’t?” she asked Duran.
“Then I’m going to pass it over to the field office in Chicago. But I really think you’re the perfect match for this. All I need you to do is find some leads and get it rolling. After that, local agents can roll with it.”
“Let me think about it?”
“Kate, I need to know now. I have to let the local PD and the Chicago field office know what’s going down.”
In her heart, she knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to take it. She wanted to take it very badly. And if that made her selfish, then…then so what? There was a huge difference between putting family first and denying herself the opportunities and the chance to live her own life. She knew if she turned this opportunity down just because she had stepped in to watch Michelle for Melissa at the last minute, she’d feel resentful toward them both. It hurt to admit it, but there it was, the honest and raw truth.
“Okay, yes, count me in. Are there flight details yet?”
“DeMarco is taking care of all of that,” Duran said. “She’ll be contacting you soon.”
Kate ended the call, her eyes again traveling over to Alan and Michelle. The strained look on Alan’s face told her that he had heard the conversation.
“When are you leaving?” he asked.
“I don’t know. DeMarco is in charge of the itinerary. Sometime tonight. Alan…I’m sorry.”
He said nothing, looking away as he sat down on the couch with Michelle. “It is what it is,” he finally said. “And don’t feel too bad…I still have a pretty hot date here.”
“Don’t be silly, Alan. I’ll call Melissa and explain things to her.”
“No. If they need the respite, let them have it. As you might know, I am fully capable of watching after this little one.”
“Alan, I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that!”
“And you never would. Which is why I am volunteering it.”
Kate came over to the couch and sat next to him. She rested her head on his shoulder. “Do you know how incredible you are?”
He shrugged. “Do you?”
“What do you mean?” she ask
ed, sensing some resentment in his tone.
“I mean, this thing with you and your work. It was supposed to be an every now and then thing, right? And honestly, to be fair, it has been. But when it’s on, it’s on. They want you to drop everything and come running when they call.”
“It’s part of the job, though.”
“A job you retired from two years ago. Did you really miss it that much?”
“Alan…that’s not fair.”
“Maybe not. I won’t pretend to know what kind of lure that job holds over you. But I’m on the same sidelines as Melissa and Michelle. There’s only so much more of this I’m going to be able to take.”
“If you feel so strongly, I won’t take this one. I’ll call Duran back and—”
“No. You need to take it. I don’t want you taking it out on me or your daughter if you let it pass you by. So, go. Take it. But coming from someone who is rapidly falling more and more in love with you, I feel I should tell you that you need to have some hard conversations when you come back. With me, your daughter, and maybe even yourself.”
Kate’s first reaction was one of anger and resentment. But maybe he was right. After all, hadn’t she realized her decision was borderline selfish just several moments ago? She’d be fifty-six in three weeks. Maybe it was time she finally drew up some boundaries in terms of her work. And if it meant that her special little set-up with Duran and the bureau came to an end, so be it.
“Alan…I need you to be honest. If me taking this is going to strain us…”
“It won’t. Not this time. But I don’t know how much longer it can go on into the future.”
She opened her mouth to respond but her phone rang, interrupting her. She checked the display and saw that it was Jo DeMarco, the young woman who had been serving as her partner for the last year, riding along on this little experiment between her and the FBI.
“It’s DeMarco,” she said. “I need to get travel details.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to clear it with me.”
What she didn’t say but felt deep in her heart was: Then why do I feel like I have to?
It was a question she did not feel like wrestling with at the moment. And, as she had been doing when presented with questions like this over the last few months, she turned her attention to work. With a sting of guilt, she answered the call.
“Hey, DeMarco. What’s up?”
CHAPTER TWO
Both Kate and DeMarco had managed to grab a bit of sleep on the red-eye flight from
DC to Chicago. But in Kate’s case, it had been a very broken nap at best. When she stirred awake during descent into Chicago at 6:15, she didn’t feel very rested. Her thoughts instantly turned to Melissa, Michelle, and Alan. The guilt slammed into her like a brick as she had watched Chicago appear in the soft light of dawn through the plane window.
She spent that first moment in Chicago hating herself. It got better as she and DeMarco made their way through the airport and to the rental car desk.
Now, as they drove into the small town of Frankfield, Illinois, the guilt was still there but little more than a ghost in her head, rattling chains and creaking floorboards.
DeMarco was behind the wheel, sipping on Starbucks she had picked up in O’Hare. She glanced over at Kate, who was looking out the window, and nudged her.
“Okay, Wise,” DeMarco said. “There’s a big fat elephant in the room and it stinks. What’s going on? You look miserable.”
“We at the let’s-go-deep level yet?”
“Weren’t we always?”
Kate sat up and sighed. “I was babysitting Michelle when I realized I missed a call from Duran. I had to bail. Worse than that, I left her with Alan because Melissa and her husband are going through some stuff. It’s kind of eating me up.”
“I’m glad you’re here with me,” DeMarco said. “But you could have just told him no. You’re not under a strict contract or anything, right?”
“Right. But saying no isn’t as easy as you’d think. I fear I’m putting too much into this. I think it’s how I’m finding my purpose.”
“Being a grandmother isn’t enough purpose?” DeMarco asked.
“Oh, it is. I just…I don’t know.”
She trailed off here and DeMarco let her have her silence…for a moment. “So, this case,” DeMarco said. “Looks pretty plain, right? You read the files?”
“I did. And it does seem pretty cut and dry. But with no leads or clues or even the slightest suggestion from local law enforcement, it’s going to be a challenge.”
“So…the latest victim was a fifty-four-year-old woman. At home alone two afternoons ago. No signs of forced entry. Discovered by the husband when he arrived home from work. Looks like it was brutal strangulation that cut deep into her neck.”
“And that might be the smoking gun right there,” Kate said. “What the hell do you strangle someone with that has the ability to also saw into your neck?”
“Barbed wire?”
“There would have been more blood,” Kate commented. “The scene would have been beyond gruesome.”
“And the reports say this place was pretty clean.”
“So that explains why the local PD is having such problems. But there has to be some starting place, right?”
“Well, let’s find out,” DeMarco said, slowing the car to a crawl and nodding ahead and to the right. “We’re here.”
***
There was a single policeman waiting for them when they pulled into the U-shaped driveway. He was sitting in his patrol car, sipping on a cup of coffee. He gave Kate and DeMarco a polite nod when they approached his car. He was dressed in uniform, and the star-shaped badge indicated he was the sheriff. If Kate had to guess, he would not be holding that position for much longer. He was easily pushing sixty; it showed the most in his brow and the almost completely gray sheen on his hair.
“Agents Wise and DeMarco,” Kate said, showing him her badge.
“Sheriff Bannerman,” the aging policeman said. “Glad you could make it up here. This case has us baffled as hell.”
“Care to walk us inside and give us the details?” Kate asked.
“Of course.”
Bannerman led them up the wide stairs onto the minimally decorated porch. Inside, the house was equally minimalist, making the already huge house look even larger. The front door opened onto a tiled foyer that gave way to a wide hall and a set of curved stairs leading to the second floor. Bannerman led them down the hallway and to the right. They entered a spacious den, the far wall occupied by a single enormous built-in bookcase. The den itself held a single elegant couch and a piano.
“The victim’s office is right through here,” Bannerman said, leading them through the den and into an area tiled in the same fashion as the foyer. A simple desk sat against the far wall. To the right, a window looked out onto a keyhole garden. A large vase of cotton plant fragments sat in the corner. It looked simple and was clearly fake, yet it fit the room nicely.
“The body was discovered at her desk, in this very chair,” Bannerman said. He was nodding toward a very plain-looking desk chair. But it was the sort of plain that would usually boast a steep price tag. Just looking at it made Kate’s back and backside feel comfortable.
“The victim was Karen Hopkins, a local for most of her life, I believe. She was working when she was killed. The email she never finished was still on the screen when her husband discovered the body.”
“The reports say there were no signs of forced entry, is that right?” DeMarco asked.
“That’s right. In fact, the husband told us all the doors were locked when he got home.”
“So the killer locked up before he left,” Kate said. “Not unusual. It would be a surefire way to try to throw off any investigation. Still, though…he had to get in somehow.”
“Mrs. Hopkins is the second victim. Five days ago, there was another. A woman of about the same age, killed in her home while her husband was at work
. Marjorie Hix.”
“You said Karen Hopkins was working when she was killed,” Kate said. “Do you know what she did?”
“According to the husband, it wasn’t really a job. Just a side hustle to make some extra cash to speed up retirement. Online marketing or something like that.”
Kate and DeMarco took a moment to look around the office. DeMarco checked the waste bin by the desk and the few pieces of paper in the small tray at the edge of the desk. Kate scanned the floor for any possible fragments, finding herself once again standing by the vase of fake cotton. Almost instinctively, she reached out and touched the soft head of one of the stalks. Just as she imagined, it was fake but its softness was almost calming. She noted a few broken stalks before returning her attention to the desk.
Bannerman kept a respectful distance, meandering back and forth between the edge of the den and the window, looking out to the garden outside of the office.
Karen noted right away that the office desk was facing the wall. This wasn’t too uncommon; as she understood it, it was a great way for people with short attention spans to improve their focus. She also knew it meant she likely never even knew what was coming until it had happened.
Her suspicions automatically turned to the husband. Whoever had killed her had entered the house quietly and made very little noise.
That, or they were already in here and she wasn’t suspecting a thing.
Again, all signs pointed to the husband. But that was a dead end because based on everything they knew, the husband had a solid alibi. Sure, she could check up on it but history told her that when someone had alibis pertaining to work, there were seldom any cracks in those alibis.
Before stating such a thing to DeMarco or Bannerman, she stepped into the den. In order to get into the office, one had to pass through the den. The floor was covered in a very nice Oriental rug. The sofa looked like it was rarely used and the piano looked as if it were an antique—the sort that was never played but was nice to look at.
The books on the walls were an assortment of titles, most of which she assumed had never even been opened…just coffee table books to look nice on shelves. Only near the end of the furthest shelf did she see any books that showed signs of wear and tear: some classics, a few thriller paperbacks, and some cookbooks.
