by Mary Eason
“Yes, you do, little girl.”
When Ava’s pout disintegrated into tears, Kara reached for her daughter and sat her on her lap.
“Baby, I know it’s hard, but this is only your first year. You’ll get used to it, and you’ve known most of the kids in your class all your life.”
“But Jakey Asisnih was mean to me. He pulled my hair—twice yesterday during recess.” Ava sobbed uncontrollably, her tiny arms clinging to Kara’s neck for comfort.
Kara smiled against her daughter’s unruly brown curls. Ava smelled like innocence itself. She wanted her to stay that way for as long as possible. She didn’t tell her daughter that this was Jakey’s way of letting her know he liked her. Never mind that. She’d learn that lesson soon enough.
“Did you tell Miss Clopay?”
“Yes. She told me to be nice to Jakey because his mom’s sick.”
In truth, Theresa Asisnih was dying. According to Sarah Clopay, Jakey didn’t talk much about his mother’s illness. He just acted out.
“Well, try not to be too upset with him, baby. Jakey needs a friend right now.”
Ava’s gray eyes searched her mother’s face for a moment, sending an unsettling reminder of the past. Every time she looked into her daughter’s eyes, she saw Davis. Once again, old guilt and familiar doubts consumed her along with old desires. She still loved him after all, but she hated him for choosing the Bureau over her.
“Honey, try to be nice to Jakey and maybe he’ll stop pulling your hair.” She set her daughter on her feet and retrieved Ava’s lunchbox from the fridge. “Come on. We don’t want to be late for the bus.”
“All right.” Ava wasn’t happy but she knew better than to argue a lost cause. She followed Kara out the door and down to the dirt road that ran in front of their house. The bus stopped there each morning at 8:15. And every morning their faithful dog Buster, along with Kara, would make sure Ava got safely on board the bus before going on their morning run.
Kara kissed her daughter’s mutinous face, waved to Roger the bus driver, and waited as they drove slowly away in the one beat-up bus the reservation’s school possessed.
A committee met each month to discuss ways of raising funds for new ones. With any luck, they’d have two new buses in another year’s time.
As the cloud of dust settled around them, Kara could see her daughter’s unhappy expression looking back at her.
Her heart went out to Ava. She’d hated school as well. In the beginning, she couldn’t seem to control the images going round inside her head and ended up in constant trouble because of it.
By the time Kara was just a little older than Ava, she’d grown accustomed to the visions and dreams. Would it be the same for Ava?
Once the bus disappeared out of sight and the uncomfortable quiet settled around them again, she could feel him trying to enter her thoughts. Kara started out across the desert but he grew more persistent. The more pronounced the images became, the harder she ran until she felt nothing but the exhaustion of her body.
Her tiny house came back into view after miles and miles of open desert. She knew every inch of this place by heart as well as its inhabitants, and the black Suburban scattering the peacefulness of the morning wasn’t one of them.
They’d come again.
“Dammit.” Kara stopped some distance from the house, hands on her knees, watching as a vehicle sped down her dirt road. Buster let out a low growl in answer to her anger. She reached down to pat his head, trying to reassure him before retrieving her water bottle.
Through the years, she’d gone from walking to running five miles every morning before going to work at In Bloom, the clothing boutique she’d opened a few years back in El Paso.
If she’d learned anything from her time with the FBI, it had been how to stay in shape and be prepared at all times for anything. She’d never been better at both than at this moment.
Buster growled once more, drawing her attention back to the black SUV. Kara was tempted to send him charging after them. Fiercely protective of her and Ava, Buster lived for the hunt.
“It’s okay, boy. I’ll get rid of them for you.” Slowly Kara covered the remaining distance to the Suburban that had now stopped in front of her house.
A few yards away from the SUV, she settled into walking again. Kara reached the vehicle just as two men dressed in black suits emerged from out of it. Jeez, could they be more obvious?
Both men glanced up at the house. They weren’t aware of her yet.
“Can I help you?” Startled, they turned quickly around at the sound of her voice, weapons drawn. Even though they were wearing sunglasses, probably Bureau issued, she sensed their uneasiness. They looked hot and tired. Kara smiled. The desert heat had that effect on outsiders.
She recognized the taller of the two right away. Ryan Anderson. She’d worked side by side with him on the Angel case. Ryan and Davis Martin had been best friends since their academy days at Quantico.
“Hello, Kara.” Ryan smiled beneath his Bureau-issued sunglasses, which prevented her from seeing his eyes. Not that it mattered. She knew Ryan wouldn’t be happy to see her again, no matter how much he might be smiling.
The other agent, a rookie, appeared shocked by his partner’s recognition. His curious gaze moved from Ryan to Kara.
“You’re wasting your time here, Ryan.” Some of his practiced Bureau tactics slipped a little with her answer, but for the moment Ryan chose to ignore Kara’s rudeness entirely.
“Kara, this is my partner, Agent Sean Griffin. Sean, this is the legendary Kara Bryant.” Ryan’s expression revealed little but she recognized his sarcasm all too well. Apparently, his partner did not.
“Wow, you worked on the Angel case along with Agent Anderson and Agent Martin. This is an honor, ma’am.” Kara cringed over the younger man’s spit-and-polish manners. It seemed like only yesterday she’d been his age. Had she ever truly been so enthusiastic about the Bureau? Ryan didn’t bother hiding his amused reaction to his partner’s enthusiasm.
“Agent Griffin.” Kara reluctantly shook the young man’s hand. How did someone so green rate partnering with Davis’s second-in-command?
Kara turned back to Ryan, wanting only to get rid of this reminder of her past. “What do you want?”
“Always so impatient. No wonder you had Davis crazy about you.” Ryan resented Kara’s relationship with Davis from the beginning. Never mind the fact that Davis had been the one to seduce her. Or maybe not. She and Davis had been crazy for each other right from the start, choosing to ignore Bureau policy preventing employees in ranking positions from getting involved with subordinates. As a result, her love affair with Davis Martin almost cost Kara her life and came close to ending his career as well.
Ryan removed his glasses for the first time. He’d aged over the past six years.
“May we come inside?” he asked quietly, at last dropping the pretense of pleasantries.
“No.” Kara didn’t break eye contact even though she could feel Agent Griffin’s curiosity growing.
“No?” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Kara, this is important. I need your help.”
“And I told you, Ryan, you’ve wasted your time in coming here.”
“There’s been another murder.”
She didn’t need to ask what he meant by that. Something related to the Angel murders would be the only thing to bring Ryan to her for help.
“I’m sorry. But I still can’t help you—”
“Davis needs you. It’s Rachel. She’s dead.” Nothing could have prepared Kara for hearing this news. She closed her eyes and tried to keep her composure from shattering in front of Ryan.
Rachel Martin, Davis’s ex-wife and the only other woman he’d told her he’d ever loved. When Kara first met Davis, he and Rachel were newly divorced. He’d been honest with Kara from the start and told her Rachel hated being married to his job. Rachel hadn’t wanted the divorce. She’d wanted her husband to choose her over the job. He hadn
’t. But then, he hadn’t chosen Kara over the Bureau either. She’d thought she was different. That he loved her more than he needed the Bureau, and yet he’d chosen to do what was best for The Job over her. It had almost killed her.
“Dead? How?” She forced the words out, expelling a shaky breath along with them. Kara hated that the very mention of Davis’s name still had the power to shake her. No matter how badly he’d hurt her, a part of her would always love him for giving her Ava.
“Rachel was murdered,” Ryan added quietly. She and Ryan had one thing in common. They both loved Davis.
“Oh God—I’m sorry. I didn’t know. When?”
“Two days ago. Kara, whoever did this is following the same MO as the Angel.”
The monster known as the Death Angel took six innocent lives before he presumably disappeared into the dark depths of the Potomac. All of his victims followed the same pattern. Rich, young women, snatched randomly, blindfolded, raped, tortured horrendously and killed by having their throats slashed. Kara knew the MO by heart. She’d been the only one of the Angel’s victims to survive.
“So you can understand why I need your help. This person is good. He’s managed to stump our best profilers so far.”
For once, for Davis’s sake, she almost wished she could help. “Ryan, I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do.”
“Dammit, he needs you. I need you. Can’t you put the past aside for one moment?”
Kara turned to Agent Griffin. “Can you give us a minute here?”
“Ma’am—”
“Don’t call me that. I might be old enough to be a ma’am in your eyes but I’m not in the mood for more Bureau bullshit.”
“I’m sorry, ma— Ms. Bryant, I was only extending you professional courtesy.”
“I’m not part of the Bureau, Agent Griffin. And I never was.”
“That’s not what I heard.”
Kara turned to give Agent Griffin the full force of her perfected glare, while wondering what exactly he’d heard about her relationship with Davis.
“Whatever you’ve been told, Agent Griffin, it’s wrong.”
Sean Griffin’s mouth opened and shut for a full minute, resembling a fish out of water, and then he quietly stepped around to the side of the house with Buster following close on his heels to keep an eye on him.
Kara heard Ryan laugh. “You’ve changed, Kara. You’re not that innocent, small-town girl anymore. All wide-eyed and head-over-heels in love with your boss.”
She took a step closer so that only he could hear what she had to say.
“Let’s get one thing straight here. I know you never liked me so you can drop the act. I’m sorry about Rachel, truly I am. For Davis’s sake, I wish I could help you with the case but I don’t have the gift anymore. It’s gone.”
That he didn’t believe her became instantly clear. Ryan doubted her abilities in the beginning. Now he didn’t believe her lack of them. Instead of calling her a liar, he shoved the folder he held out to her but Kara stepped away.
The photos spilled to the ground at their feet. Crime scene photos. Gruesome photos.
She couldn’t stop herself from looking, even though she tried. Rachel’s naked body, tortured and mutilated, wearing the Angel’s signature white silk scarf around her eyes. Her throat had been slashed along with other, more deviant forms of torture. Her death would have been welcomed at that point. Rachel’s hands had been untied postmortem. Kara could see the rope marks clearly. Now, they lay crossed in front of her chest, holding a spray of white lilacs.
Everything about the crime scene resembled the Death Angel’s MO. But this case had one thing different from the original Angel victims. Rachel wasn’t wealthy. She didn’t come from a moneyed background.
“Was there a quote from the Bible?” Kara asked, unable to stop the question.
“Yes, the one from Exodus. The one about the Death Angel. The same as in the original Angel case.”
“But they’re not the same. Rachel and the others—they aren’t the same.”
“I thought you didn’t have the gift anymore,” he said with a smug smile.
“I don’t—”
“Then how do you know there were others? Nice try, Kara. You still have it. Even if you don’t want it.”
“You’re wrong. And now I’d like you both to leave.”
Ryan appeared to grow more frustrated at her answer before finally accepting he couldn’t demand her help.
“All right. I can’t force you, can I? Do you mind if I use your restroom before we leave? It’s a long drive back to town.” He didn’t wait for her answer but stepped inside the house, slamming the screen door.
Kara held her breath, praying he wouldn’t see the photos of Ava scattered around the house. Living on the reservation had its benefits. Not the least was the sense of security she felt. The crime rate out there was next to nonexistent. Kara rarely locked her door while jogging.
Please don’t let him figure it out.
She stood silently ignoring Agent Griffin, while listening to his attempt at making nice with Buster. She couldn’t keep from smiling. Sean Griffin didn’t know this but until Kara gave the word, he would remain Buster’s enemy.
Ryan walked out of the house a short time later. Kara searched his expression for some sign he might have discovered her secret, but Ryan had once again perfected the Bureau’s blank stare. He walked past her to the driver’s door of the SUV without saying a word. Agent Griffin moved to the passenger side.
“Tell Davis I’m sorry, okay?”
Ryan nodded then got into the Suburban.
“It’s good to see you again, Kara. And I mean that. Take care of yourself.” With those parting words still hanging between them, Ryan put the Suburban in reverse, turned it around on the dirt drive and sped away.
Leaving the photos of the dead behind.
Kara couldn’t look at them. She listened to the Suburban as it made its way along the dirt road leading out of the reservation. Then she began walking, slowly at first, but when that didn’t extinguish their voices, she started running. Before long, her footsteps raced across the open desert with only the sound of her labored breathing and Buster’s thundering gallop overtaking the tortured cries of the dead in her head.
“I’m…what?” Davis felt as if someone had kicked him hard in the gut when Ryan told him he’d gone to El Paso the day before and seen Kara.
He tried to focus on what Ryan had just said, but Kara’s sad expression, the one she’d worn when he told her he couldn’t be with her, filled his thoughts. He couldn’t get it out of his head. He’d put her life in jeopardy. Almost lost her to the Angel—had lost her to the Bureau—and now he must learn, secondhand, that he’d fathered a child with her?
“What did you say?” he asked again, and waited as Ryan repeated the same sentence one more time.
“Kara had a baby. A girl,” Ryan told him slowly, his expression filled with sympathy.
“So you’re saying—”
“I’m saying you’re a father. Congratulations, you have a daughter.”
“How do you know this?” Davis asked, but knew the answer already. Ryan disobeyed a direct command and went to her for help with the copycat cases.
“I saw a picture of the child, Davis. She has your eyes. She’s yours. You didn’t know, did you?”
Davis’s shell-shocked expression confirmed the truth easily enough.
“What do you think? Of course I didn’t know. How could I? I haven’t seen Kara in years.”
“So what are you going to do?” Ryan knew Davis well enough to answer this for himself.
“I’m going after her.” Davis didn’t hesitate before answering.
“You think that’s wise?”
“Wise? Probably not. But I’m going just the same.”
Hours later, once on board the flight bound for El Paso, he let his thoughts return to Kara. Davis couldn’t think about her reaction to seeing him again and not drop the whole thing. She
wouldn’t welcome him there. She’d be angry and resentful. The same way she’d reacted before.
Davis always wondered how different their lives would have turned out had he simply walked away as Kara had wished—hell, he’d wished the same thing a thousand times since—damn the Bureau and its policies. But he’d thought he was doing the right thing by letting her go. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
After the disastrous way the Death Angel case ended, it had cast a shadow of suspicion over the VCIRD and the Bureau as well. It caused serious questions to arise about VCIRD’s competency in handling the Angel case. Why had it taken so many victims to bring the killer, Frankie Shepard, to justice when Frankie had been right under their noses all along? Then there was the matter of how Frankie had been able to kidnap Kara, one of the FBI’s own, and almost make her his final victim.
In an effort to control the media blitz, Ed Zamora, the Bureau chief, had “strongly advised” Davis to stay away from Kara. He’d said if the press got wind of their relationship, it would cast serious doubts on Davis’s ability to perform his duties objectively.
He still remembered the day he’d gone to her apartment to tell her of Ed’s demands.
The moment she’d opened the door and saw him there, she’d known.
“You’re leaving me.” She barely waited for him to close the door. When he’d faced her, there were tears in her eyes.
He’d tried to touch her. Comfort her, but she pulled away.
“Kara, please…”
“No, just say it. Tell me why?”
He reached for her again. In spite of her struggles, he’d pulled her close. He needed to be close to her. She was the only one who could bring peace to his soul.
“It’s only for a little while, I promise. The Bureau director is all over this. He’s scrutinizing every aspect of the way the case was handled. Ed needs me to do this.”
“I need you. Dammit, Davis, I need you more than Ed or his precious Bureau needs you. Please don’t do this. Stay with me.” She held him tighter.
