by Lisa Harris
He unlocked his car and pulled open the driver’s door.
“Garrett?” Sam stopped next to Jordan.
“I really don’t need a lecture from you too right now, Sam. I made a bad call and now a girl is dead.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe you should have followed the lead I gave you, but then again, maybe you were on to something with Fisher. There was no way to know until you followed that lead.”
Garrett looked up at his boss. Conjecture wasn’t going to take away the all-consuming guilt spreading through him. “I spent years working on the streets, and I learned to cope with what I saw. I could go to a crime scene and shrug off the emotional side, but this case . . . these girls. This is different.”
“Trust me, I understand. We all have cases like this. The death calls that cut right through your emotional Achilles heel. I’ve been there, Garrett, and there’s no way to just brush it off. Just like there was no way for you to know which lead to follow. The case against Jason Fisher had merit. It just turns out it wasn’t true.”
“And somehow that excuses the fact that we didn’t do our jobs and find Marissa’s killer before he murdered her? All these girls . . . none of them deserved to die the way they did.”
“You’re right. We all want to stop things like this before they happen, but it doesn’t always work that way.”
“Then tell me, how do you do this?” Garrett yelled, not caring any longer that his anger was seeping into his words. “Because I’m not sure I can anymore. For seven years, I’ve come to work every day. I’ve dealt with families in the middle of trauma. Seen things on the streets that most people can’t even imagine. I thought I could come here and make a difference, and I walked away from everything I knew to do just that. But this case . . . this job . . . I can’t do this anymore.”
“You are making a difference. What about the cases we do close? The criminals we do catch and take off the streets?”
“Half the time we bring justice after someone is dead by making sure that person pays for his crime. But I don’t want to do that anymore. I want to stop things before they happen.”
“Sometimes you can’t do that, no matter what you do. But here’s what I can promise you. We’re going to find this guy. No matter what it takes, no matter how long it takes, we will find him. We’ll process the scene, see if we can find some witnesses. We’re going to put an end to this.”
“When?” Garrett shook his head. “Because I’ve reexamined every piece of evidence we have, every witness testimony and lead, and in case you didn’t notice, we’re not any closer than we were when Jessica Wright was found murdered.”
“That’s all true, but tell me this. How is walking away going to help? You walk away and he wins. He’s beaten you.”
Garrett let out a low laugh. “Have we ever not been beaten in this case? Six girls are dead or missing now. Six. We never had a chance. He’s always had the upper hand. We have no solid evidence of who this guy is. Every lead takes us in the wrong direction. He’s playing games with us, and I’m tired of losing.”
He watched as Philips rolled a body bag on a stretcher toward the van. Someone would go to Marissa’s parents and tell them that their little girl wasn’t coming home. That they’d never watch her walk across the stage at graduation or walk down the aisle. There would be no grandbabies. No happily ever after.
But it wasn’t going to be him this time.
22
January 20
6:13 a.m.
Clara’s home
Jordan sat on a padded barstool in her sister’s kitchen and stared at the retro pink backsplash. Only Clara could add a pink stove and refrigerator to baby-blue cabinets and make it look like the design came straight off HGTV. If she tried the combination herself, it would end up looking like a buttercream cupcake threw up. She took a sip of the strong coffee she’d just brewed, trying to ignore the numbness that had spread through her over the past twelve hours. She hadn’t been able to sleep last night. Instead, she’d stared at the sliver of moonlight coming through the curtains of the guest room, until she’d finally gotten up, needing to search for her own answers. She’d started digging through the case files of each girl, looking for that one evasive clue she missed, but there was nothing there she hadn’t seen before. Which was why she completely understood Garrett’s anger and frustration. She felt it herself. TBI had brought her in to solve the mystery, but so far, nothing they’d done was getting them closer to finding whoever was behind it. And now it was too late for Marissa and her family.
Clara bounced into the kitchen, her normal perky self, interrupting Jordan’s thoughts. “Morning. Did you find something to eat? I’ve got every frozen breakfast item you can think of. Waffles, sausage biscuits, pancakes, breakfast burritos—”
“Thanks, but I’m not particularly hungry.” Jordan glanced at the clock. “And anyway, I’m going to have to leave in about fifteen minutes. I just needed to get some caffeine into my system and try and wake up.”
Clara braced her hands on the counter across from Jordan. “You’re working too many hours. You don’t look like you slept much last night.”
“I didn’t, actually. Last night was rough.”
Her sister’s smile disappeared. “I saw the news about that girl and the Angel Abductor. That’s why you’re back in town, isn’t it?”
Jordan nodded.
Clara poured herself a cup of coffee, then took a sip. “I don’t know how you handle things like that. If I had to deal with a whacked-out serial killer after seeing firsthand what he’d done . . . I don’t know. I’d be a basket case. I’d never make it. Being a nurse comes close to pushing me over the edge every now and then as it is.”
“To be honest?” Jordan said. “Sometimes I don’t handle things very well. And this . . . this case has affected everyone involved.”
“I don’t blame you.” Clara grabbed a banana out of the fruit basket and started peeling it. “Do you want one?”
“I’m fine, Sis. Seriously. Garrett called a little while ago and asked me to meet him for breakfast. I promise I’ll eat something there if that will make you stop worrying about me.”
“I don’t think anything will make me stop worrying about you.” Clara tossed the peel into the trash under the sink. “How is he, by the way?”
“Blaming himself.”
“Why?”
“He followed a lead that turned out to be another dead end. And while there was really no way to know, he’s taking it hard. This case has gotten under his skin, and I’m not sure how to help him.”
“You can’t really blame him. I mean, six girls are dead, which is terrifying. When even the FBI can’t solve a case like this, it makes me wonder what kind of genius this guy must be.”
“Thanks a lot,” Jordan said.
“I didn’t mean it personally,” Clara said, taking a bite of her banana.
“I know. I’m just extra-sensitive right now.” Jordan scooted around the counter, washed out her cup, then stuck it into the dishwasher.
“You know I’m here,” Clara said. “I don’t know how I can help, but if there’s anything you need, please let me know.”
“You’ve already done more than enough putting up with me the past few months when I’m in and out.”
“Just so you know, Alex and I love having you here. It’s nice to have all of us—including Dad—under one roof. But it does make me miss Mom more.”
“Me too.” Jordan eyed the pink ceramic frog that had been a part of her mom’s collection and smiled. Memories of Mom were everywhere.
“Have you and Garrett ever talked about getting back together?”
Her sister’s question took Jordan by surprise.
“I’m just saying that while you might not admit it, I see something in your face every time his name comes up.” Clara leaned forward. “You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”
“I would hardly say ‘love’ is the word that describes what I feel for Garrett.�
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“Then what do you feel?”
Jordan blew out a huff of air. It wasn’t exactly a question she felt like dealing with. Not today. “We’re just friends, Clara. Nothing more.”
“I’ve heard that one before, but you don’t sound very convincing. And if you ask me—which I know you’re not—the two of you are perfect together. You both understand the tough world of law enforcement, something I certainly can’t relate to.”
Jordan grabbed a dishcloth and started wiping down the kitchen counter. “Things between us have always been complicated. And yeah, maybe I can’t shake some of the feelings I used to have when I’m with him, but I’m only here temporarily. I’ll go back to Memphis, back to my job, and there won’t be any reason for me to see him anymore.”
“Maybe that’s your problem. The two of you have danced this same dance for long enough. The man’s still single, and if you ask me, it’s because he’s never found anyone who lived up to you. He’s in love with you and has been as long as I’ve known him. You know that, don’t you?”
“It’s not love, Clara. For either of us.”
“Really? I saw the way he looked at you when he came over right before Mom died and later at the funeral. Did you know he comes over at least once a month to play chess with Dad and watch whatever ball game is on TV?”
“No.” Jordan dropped the cloth onto the counter. “He never told me that.”
“I’m telling you, the man’s still in love with you, but until both of you decide that having a relationship is more important than having a career, you’ll continue going home at night to an empty house.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being single, Clara. I’m free to do what I want, when I want. I can eat what I want. Go where I want.”
“I never said there was anything wrong with being single. But when you’re in love with someone, and they’re in love with you, it’s crazy not to make some sort of compromise to be together.”
Jordan frowned. “Like I said, it’s complicated. I’m not sure either of us is in a place to go forward with a relationship. And honestly I’m not sure we ever will be.”
“Please. Performing a septal myectomy is complicated. What you and Garrett need is a kick in the pants. A wake-up call. Because one day it’s going to be too late and you’re going to look back on what you gave up, for what? Long hours and a half-decent paycheck?”
Jordan wrung out the cloth and hung it on the sink. “Then what do you think I should do?”
“Tell him you love him.”
“I never said I loved him.”
“You don’t have to. It’s written all over your face. Every time he calls. Whenever you mention his name. I’m not a relationship expert, but even I can see it. Seriously.”
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re right and I’ve never stopped loving him, but I’m not sure if loving him is going to be enough in our situation.”
Thirty-five minutes later, Jordan hurried across the parking lot to the café where Garrett had asked her to meet him. The sun was out, leaving a trail of warmth in its path. What if Clara was right? Was love enough to hold their relationship together? And what was she supposed to do? Just sit down across from him and tell him she loved him? She wasn’t even sure if she still did. If she told him that, he’d probably think she’d gone nuts.
Garrett sat in the back of the restaurant, staring across the open space as customers ate their breakfast and fueled up for the day with mugs of coffee. She could see the fatigue in his eyes as she approached the table. He probably hadn’t slept last night either. It was crazy to even think they could be a normal couple. An FBI agent and a criminal investigator didn’t exactly have a lot of free time on their hands. And on top of that, they didn’t even live in the same city.
“Hey . . .” She slid into the booth across from Garrett, pushing aside her sister’s crazy thinking that had only ended up messing with her mind this morning. “Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s fine.” He was nursing a cup of black coffee, looking as if he hadn’t slept for days.
“You don’t look fine. What’s going on?”
He stared straight ahead, avoiding her gaze. “I handed in my resignation, Jordan. I wanted you to hear it from me and not someone else.”
“Wait a minute.” She felt as if she’d been slapped across the face. “You couldn’t have just eased into this news?”
“There isn’t a way to ease into this.” He looked up at her. “I’m serious, Jordan. I’m walking away from all of this.”
“Wait a minute.” A streak of anger washed over her. “I heard what you said to Sam, but I didn’t think you really meant it. We were all upset.”
“I meant it. I’m done.”
“You can’t simply quit and walk away.”
She regretted the harshness in her voice, but he’d taken her completely by surprise. She’d expected to show up and discuss the case with him. She’d even considered risking it all and telling him that despite everything that had happened, she did have one regret. Walking away from him all those years ago. But now?
“I can walk away and I am.” He leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table. “Marissa is dead because I made the wrong decision. You were right. We should have been out there spending every second searching for that car.”
“There was no way for you to know that.”
“Yeah, well, my decision cost a girl her life.”
“Don’t turn this into a martyr case. No one else is.”
“What about the family? What happens to them now? I lost a case, but they lost a daughter.”
“This is about more than this case, just like it’s about more than the decision you made to leave your father’s firm.”
“You know my father.”
Jordan frowned. She’d never exactly been fond of his father. The man she’d met while they were dating had made it crystal clear she wasn’t good enough for his son. She didn’t have the right bank account, and she didn’t have blue blood flowing through her veins. Garrett had always stood up to him, but somehow she’d ended up feeling like she was in the middle of a battle she didn’t want to fight when he was around.
“What about your father?”
“When I was ten, my father told me I was destined to be a lawyer,” Garrett said. “He told me how I could make a difference in the lives of people, and that was what I wanted. Not the money or my name on the building. I never cared about any of that. I wanted to study law and practice, because I could be a part of the system that made sure justice was being done. That’s what I wanted.”
“And that’s what you’ve done. Both as a lawyer and now with TBI.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. It started out that way. But then I found myself defending guilty clients who were happy to pay for loopholes. Maybe that’s not how my father started off, but it became less about the clients and more about billing as many hours as possible. He forgot why he did what he did, and he wanted me to be like him.”
“You were never like him. You aren’t like him.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m going back, Jordan.”
“Wait a minute. Back to your father’s firm?”
“No. Back to ensuring that justice gets done. Or at least that it has a better shot of winning.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There was a case I read about a few years ago. A young, single mom. She needed a lawyer for her son, but she didn’t have the money to pay for a decent one. Her son ended up going to prison. Four years later, new evidence turned up and he was exonerated. If he’d had a decent lawyer, he never would have gone to prison in the first place. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him, even after all these years.”
“You can’t blame yourself for every case gone wrong, Garrett.”
“You don’t get it. I couldn’t save Marissa or the other girls, but I can save families like hers. I don’t need billable hours. I have my trust fund. I can work pro bono on cases I want to take and a
ctually make a difference.”
“You already do make a difference. Can’t you see that? I’ve seen you interact with Sarah Boyd’s family, and with the families of the other girls. You have a way of relating to them on a personal level that gives them hope that the person who shattered their lives will pay for what he did. They know you’re out there, determined to find the truth and make certain justice is served and this guy is caught. Not every cop can do that, but you can. They need hope. Something to give them a reason to wake up in the morning.”
“They need whoever is behind this found. But it’s not going to be me that finds him.”
“They need you.”
“No, they don’t.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I really am, but I’ve made up my mind. This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about this. It’s been niggling in the back of my mind for months. I need to do this. I want to do this.”
“What about us?” She asked the question before she realized what she was saying.
Garrett frowned. “I didn’t think there was an us.”
“I just meant . . . I meant I’ll miss working with you.”
“I’m going to be busy getting this practice up and going. You’ll be back in Memphis.”
He was right, wasn’t he? Her sister had filled her mind with nonsense, making her question everything she’d put behind her. But it was time to admit that their relationship was never going to move forward. It was never going back to what it used to be.
She scooted toward the end of the bench. “I probably should go. I’ve got a ton of work I need to finish up. I’m heading back to Memphis in the morning, where we’ll be monitoring things on our end, but I guess that doesn’t matter anymore to you, does it?”
He watched her leave the restaurant. He knew he was a fool to let her walk out of his life again, but he also knew he wasn’t going back. He couldn’t do it. She’d once asked him if he ever asked questions like where was God when Julia was abducted. Julia, Becky, Jessica, Bailey, Sarah, Marissa. He’d asked that question every time a new girl had gone missing. He still wasn’t sure, but he knew God hadn’t done anything to save Marissa the night she’d breathed her last breath. And neither had he. And that was something he was going to have to live with the rest of his life.
