“Yes. Both Rita and Mr. Barry have noted your determination to care for Ruth Mary. And we’ve had a few inquiries in the state, as well. But all have fallen through.”
“And that brings you to me.” How could they have all fallen through in less than seven months? On such a young child?
“Yes. At this time, we here at the agency feel that finding Ruth Mary a placement outside of the area will be best. Away from…well…everything that her father was involved in.”
“Of course. I understand.” He’d murdered how many young girls and women? She’d personally done the autopsies on all of Travis Byrum’s victims and would never forget what the man had done. “When can we arrange the first visitation?”
“Would Monday work for you? That will give us a day or two to get her placed elsewhere, and give her time to get settled in. I’ll discuss with her the next stage of the process.”
“Thank you. Guess this is it, then, isn’t it?”
“Certainly. Now, I need to remind you that there are no guarantees. And I wouldn’t have called had I not just received a message from her current foster home. Once I reviewed her case and saw how far along you were in the process to foster-to-adopt her, I felt I needed to touch base with you. Make sure we were on the same page. Usually children like Ruth Mary go out into the foster-adopt tract rather quickly. Hopefully for her sake, the same will happen with Ruth Mary.”
Jules disconnected the call a minute later and sat staring at the phone for she didn’t know how long.
It was really happening.
Shit.
She was so not ready for this.
She had four days to get ready for the first visit. She’d need to call Ed, and her assistant Mia. She needed to book travel arrangements, and she needed to tell Georgia and Ana. They’d been with her every step of the process from the realization that she needed to do something for Ruthie, to the prepping of her home for the homestudy portion of the process.
Chapter Twenty
* * *
“Am I crazy?” Jules asked two days after Christmas, and Al didn’t know how to answer.
Paige ate half the hot dog before she answered. “Probably a little. But if you feel that you and this kid can make things work, isn’t that better than the alternative?”
“I hope so.”
“So what’s so special about this kid that you will completely redo your life for her?” Al couldn’t imagine it. Could she make room in her life for some kid like Jules was doing? Al wanted children, yes. And she wasn’t against adoption, by any means. But she also knew she wasn’t ready for a child right now. Of course, Jules was older than she, had been married and widowed, had worked her career for several years. She probably would be a good place for a lost and forgotten little girl to be. And Al had seen her with Mattie, Georgia’s little boy. Jules would probably make one heck of a good mother.
“She’s so alone.” Jules was picking at her food, and Al reached over and snagged half Jules’ nachos. The food court nachos were far better in taste than they were appearance. And Jules never ate a full plate of anything, anyway. “Her family took the brothers in, but left her in foster care. She’s three and a half and nobody wants her.”
“Except you.” Poor kid. How could any family do that?
“Except me. And the case workers seem to think we’ll be a good fit. So…”
“You’re doing it.” Al said it though it was unnecessary.
“Yep. This will be our third visitation. I went up a week ago, then two weeks before that.”
“And now we’re here at the mall looking for a gift for a three year old.”
“She doesn’t have much. Just a battered teddy bear. One of the PAVAD ones that your brother gave her when I first met her. She carries it everywhere. It’s the only toy she has. I want to give her something nicer than a two dollar bear we give out in crises situations.” Determination was clear on Jules’ face. Al knew her friend would do her best for the little girl. And that, more than anything, made her proud to consider Jules a friend.
Al could understand that. “So what size is she? My god kid will need clothes. Lots and lots of clothes.”
“Dear god, Al, she’s not a baby doll.” Paige sipped her soda. “Although, I did see these absolutely awesome combat boots for kids once. They had cartoon cat skulls on them. We could get her some of those.”
“A Goth three year old. Probably not what the social worker had in mind.” Al actually laughed at the image of the little girl in the picture Jules had shown them dressed in an outfit similar to the black leather Paige wore today. Even the cast still holding Paige’s broken arm in place was black with glow in the dark skull stickers. “What about dresses? Little girls love dresses.”
“Ugh. I hated dresses.” Paige actually shuddered. Al had seen her friend in dresses before, daring cuts that flattered. But it was always when they were undercover. That was the only time Paige dressed feminine.
Paige was so pretty, when she put effort into it. Most of the time, she hid herself behind black. Al had an inkling why, though she’d never asked.
“No clothes. I want to let her pick out a bunch of stuff to wear. I don’t think she’s ever had that option.”
“We can do toys. Definitely. Aislyn, Dan’s littlest, really likes Care Bears. I’ve watched them a few times, and they have good messages,” Paige said. “And I’ve seen the toys all over the place.”
“Care Bears sound good. And we can take a look around for other things while we’re in the toy store.” Jules gathered up her trash and carried it to the wastebasket.
“So when do you leave?”
“I’m testifying on Monday afternoon. Then going to spend all of Tuesday with Ruthie, and fly back Wednesday morning.”
“You flying up with Malachi, then?”
“Excuse me?”
“Mal’s testifying Monday, too.” He would be out of town for at least a day or two.
“Great. So that’s who the PAVAD agent is. Ed mentioned it when he booked the flight for me. He didn’t tell me who.” Jules obviously wasn’t happy about it. Al wasn’t offended. Her brother and Jules still sent sparks flying off of each other whenever they were in the same room. That hadn’t happened much since they’d been rescued a month ago—Al suspected Jules was avoiding Malachi, whereas he watched Jules almost too protectively. Al sometimes wondered just how deep their feelings went for each other. There was just too big of a spark between them for there not to be some serious feelings underneath.
“So who all knows about Ruthie?” Did her brother? What did he think? Did he have romantic feelings for Jules? Did Ruthie change anything for him?
“You two. Eddie. George and Hell. Ana and Fin. I don’t want it all over PAVAD. Not yet, anyway. I don’t know if the adoption will be finalized. Something could still jeopardize it.”
“No problem.”
“I was afraid the kidnapping would stall things, but it didn’t. I have Ed to thank for that, I think. He may have made a few calls. He’s good at that…”
“Nothing like having a deputy director of the FBI pulling for you.” Al really liked Ed Dennis and she wished him and his fiancé the best of luck. Ed and Marianna were getting married in four weeks. Al, Carrie, and Paige—if they weren’t on cases—were providing the music.
It seemed like everyone in PAVAD was pairing off. Georgia and Hell, Ana and Fin, Carrie and Lorcan, Ed and Marianna, even Dan and Dr. Brewster from forensics had paired off, married, and were expecting twins. Al couldn’t help but feel a small bit of envy for them. What was it like to have someone who understood the job as deeply as she did? Who understood that she couldn’t just drop everything to take care of his needs?
Who didn’t think she was supposed to play second fiddle to him?
Chapter Twenty-One
* * *
Jules went in on Friday knowing she’d be swamped. She was trying to ensure that Mia wasn’t overwhelmed by her absence on Monday and Tuesday. She’d be flying back e
arly Wednesday, and would probably work Saturday and Sunday to make up for lost time.
Not that her position was necessarily a nine-to-five, Monday-through-Friday kind of thing.
People died at all hours of the day or night. And she’d been called in on those hours.
With Ruthie coming, that was going to have to change. Mia was being promoted to a supervisory position and they were hiring two additional forensic pathologists. It had always been in the budget, they just hadn’t implemented the new plan yet. Forley had retired, and Jules knew she’d have to replace him eventually. The one extra person would make a huge difference to all of them.
She had several copies of paperwork to be distributed to the various teams in the PAVAD directorate, and she liked to handle that task herself, putting the files in the hands of each supervisor directly. Less likely for paperwork to get lost that way.
She saved the CCU bullpen for last, knowing she’d want to spend a few extra minutes visiting when she got up there. Sometimes that was the only place she saw Georgia in a week. The CCU teams were sent all over the country, often at a moment’s notice, and it made planning anything together difficult.
It looked like the full complement of agents for the CCU was present for once. Not that surprising, since it was the week after Christmas, and New Year’s Eve was the next night.
Jules was planning on hanging out with Georgia and Ana’s families until around one, then heading home.
She had a big week coming up, and she wanted some time to relax.
The first person she saw was Evan Stephenson. She shivered.
He looked so much like his father.
Roger Stephenson had featured in a few of her late night bad dreams—how could he not?
No woman liked being the target of a madman.
Evan watched her, quietly, like he had done from the first time they’d been in the same room.
Just like his father had watched her.
Jules deliberately looked away from him, hoping her feelings weren’t showing on her face.
Looked away from Evan and straight into blue, blue eyes.
Rats.
He knew what she was thinking; he always did.
The majority of the files in her arms were for his team. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? She should have sent Mia…
She’d done her best to avoid him since the day he’d driven her home—at his insistence—from the hospital. Something had happened between them in that North St. Louis basement to change things between them, and that terrified her. Confused her.
Change between her and Malachi Brockman was not something she would ever be comfortable with.
He was walking toward her.
Jules held the dozen or so files out to him, a barrier between them.
He took them, then wrapped his free hand around her arm. He pulled her close to whisper. “You can’t avoid him forever.”
“It’s none of your business.” She tried to shake him off. Why did his touch always burn her skin?
She’d been touched by attractive men before. Some were even available men—if she’d been interested. None of those men came even close to burning her with just a brush of a finger. So why did this lughead?
Or was it—God help her—that she was just more aware of this man now?
“Julia—”
“Dammit, Malachi. Just leave me alone. I can deal with it without your help!”
She dropped the files on the nearest desk, in front of the nearest agent—Alessandra—and walked away.
More like, ran away. And she knew it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
* * *
Well. Al grabbed the files Jules had dropped on her desk and began passing them out to the appropriate teams.
Malachi was still staring after Jules as she stormed away. Al hid a grin.
Did they realize how cute they were when they were together?
Somehow she doubted it.
Georgia was also watching Malachi, a considering look on her own face.
He stood in the middle of the bullpen for the longest time, almost oblivious to the attention he was still getting. Al felt almost sorry for her brother. He’d always had it so easy with women. Yet she knew none of them had made a dent in his heart. Was Jules going to be different?
Or was it more likely that he just had feelings for her because of what they’d went through?
He finally looked up at her as she passed by him for the third time. “It can’t be easy for her.”
She knew what he meant, had seen Jules skitter out of the room whenever Evan was around, or whenever she’d have to speak with the other agent directly. And Al couldn’t really blame her.
But Evan had been in St. Louis for five or six months now, as a member of Al’s team. And she liked him, genuinely felt he was a good agent and a good person.
And not responsible for his father’s actions that had ended up with Jules—and Carrie and Georgia—nearly dead. It wasn’t fair to blame Evan, and Jules had even admitted that to Al on a few occasions.
But that didn’t mean Jules wanted to interact with Evan.
And everyone had made a point of giving Jules her space after she’d recovered from Roger Stephenson’s attack and transferred to PAVAD. Had that been a mistake?
Mal finally went into his own office, a look of consideration on his handsome face.
Her brother was a good looking guy and she was proud of him. But sometimes, he could be a bit dense.
This was probably one of them.
Al started whistling as she finished handing out the files.
The last one went to Georgia. Al hopped on the corner of the darker haired woman’s desk. “So. Should I tell him Jules is flying up with him to South Dakota Monday?”
Georgia’s eyes were narrowed, and a somewhat wicked grin was on her lips. “No. No, don’t. I think the two of them might just have a few things they need to work out between them…I never suspected. Even at Thanksgiving. But…he looked at her differently, didn’t he?”
Al couldn’t agree more. “Yep. I think it started before they were attacked.”
“She’ll run. Rick scared the heck out of her, but he wore down her defenses in less than three months.”
“What was he like? Anything like Mal?” Georgia didn’t speak of the man she’d been engaged to often, and even less so of his brother.
“Mmm. In a few ways. He had a good sense of humor. And was very dedicated to his job. But Rick was a…less intense…kind of person, whereas Jules had the drive and focus. And ambition. When she wanted something she went full-force. She didn’t stop until she got it, until things worked out the way she wanted. Like this drive to get Ruthie. This is the first of anything, anyone, that has mattered to Jules in a really long time. I don’t think she realizes that yet. I think someone like Rick was what Jules needed back then. Now, I think someone with more passion for things might actually help her come out of that shell she’s built around herself.”
“But will she be good for Malachi.”
Georgia stared up at Malachi’s office for the longest time. Then she looked back at Al, a soft and warm expression in her eyes. “You know, I think she will…”
Al certainly hoped so.
Chapter Twenty-Three
* * *
Her office beckoned, and Jules wasted no time finding her way to the little corner of the morgue in the annex. Here, she could finally release some of the tension running through her body. Why did she let that blue-eyed irritant get under her skin so much? Why?
Even Rick at his most obnoxious—and he’d been that way on several occasions—had never heated her quite the way Malachi Perfect Brockman did. And that was a good thing, right? That her husband hadn’t torn her up this way?
“Boss?”
Jules raised her head off the desk and turned toward the open door. She should have closed it. “Yes, Mia?”
“I have the Gibson file you wanted. What should I do with it?” The file was just
an excuse. Mia was worried about her, and this was her way of asking. Guilt hit Jules again. Why were people always so worried about her? Didn’t they know she could take care of herself just fine?
“I’ll take it. I want to have another look before I forget what it is I’m looking for.” She held out her hand and Mia placed the file in it. Mia’s sleeve fell back, exposing the nasty burn scar that Jules knew extended up three quarters of the way to her shoulder. On both arms.
Burns Mia had received when Roger Stephenson set the hotel they were staying in on fire. When Mia had been the last one pulled from the building. When the volunteer firefighters had carried her to safety. Mia had been damned lucky and everyone knew that.
But Jules couldn’t see those scars without thinking what if the firefighters had been a minute later at breaking down Mia’s door? What if Hell hadn’t insisted Georgia sleep in his room, despite PAVAD policy?
What if Jules hadn’t seen the smoke from her spot at the diner window that night and called 911? What if she’d sat on the other side of the diner like she’d first considered?
How many of her friends would she have buried because Stephenson was in her room?
How did Mia feel, with Stephenson’s son working upstairs? Why hadn’t they ever talked about it? Mia and she had a decent relationship; they worked well together, were friendly without being best buds, and Jules cared about the younger woman. She’d tried not to, but it had happened anyway. It was hard not to care about Mia. She was a sweet, nice, quiet young woman with a lot of potential. And she went out of her way to take care of Jules at work.
But was Mia dealing with things ok? Malachi seemed to think Jules wasn’t dealing with things. But wasn’t she? She hadn’t gone off the deep end when she learned that Stephenson had fixated on her, or when he’d knocked her upside the head, or went loony tunes when she woke up locked in a basement with Malachi, had she?
HUNTING (PAVAD) Page 6
