Untold (Alex and Cassidy Book 5)

by Nancy Ann Healy

  “Long shots are sometimes the best shot we have,” Alex replied dryly.

  “Not much to go on,” he muttered. He turned to the agent next to him. “She’s been outta’ the circus a little too long,” he whispered.

  Despite Robbins’ attempt to whisper, Claire heard his comment clearly. She leaned over the table menacingly. “Something to say, Agent Robbins?” she challenged him. He smirked. “Let me tell you something,” Claire lowered her voice. “If you have any inclination that you will ever be half the agent or investigator my partner is, you will learn to shut your arrogant mouth and listen to what she says. And, if you have a prayer of surviving the next five seconds in my presence, you’ll heed that advice.”

  Assistant Director Bower cleared his throat and stood. “All right. We know where we are at. You each have your assignment,” he told the group.

  Alex put her hand on Claire’s shoulder. “Go talk to Hawk.”

  “I don’t…”

  “Go,” Alex repeated. “I want to have a word with Agent Robbins.”

  “Yeah? I’d like to kick his…”

  Alex laughed. “I got that,” she said. “Go talk to Hawk. Agent Robbins,” Alex called. “A word.”

  Claire made a point to brush against the rookie. She whispered to him. “Fuck with my partner, Robbins, and you are fucking with me. You don’t want to do that,” she warned him.

  Robbins made his way to Alex. “Your partner there is pretty protective.”

  Alex looked over his shoulder as Claire walked up to Hawk. She slowly returned her attention to him. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

  “Really? I thought you just came back?”

  Alex nodded. “Let me make something clear to you,” Alex said. “You’re on this team because someone recommended you. That’s why you’re here. I can only assume that recommendation came from either Bower or Hawkins—both whom I respect.”

  Robbins gloated.

  “What you should know is that you serve on this task force at my pleasure. Neither AD Hawkins nor AD Bower will question my decision to release you. If you can’t work under my direction or under Agent Brackett’s, I suggest you do yourself a favor and recuse yourself now.”

  “It’s not an issue.”

  “See that it isn’t,” Alex said. “You might think this is a circus. You might be right. You’re no ringmaster, Robbins. You’re just a clown in the car. You want to command the ring? Learn your place.” Alex walked away leaving the rookie with a lump in his throat.

  “So?” Bower caught up to Alex.

  “Not an easy one,” Alex said.

  “Are we talking about the case, the rookie, or your partner?”

  “Yes.”

  Bower laughed. “You need more resources locally.”

  “I agree,” Alex said.

  “You know who can help with that.”

  “I do.”

  “You want me to have Hawk give her a call?”

  Alex shook her head. “No. I have her number.”

  ***

  Claire chewed on her thumbnail as she listened to Agent Eaves tick off observations of the remains that were lying on the long, silver table.

  “Agent Brackett?”

  “Huh?”

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Sorry,” Claire apologized. “Go on.”

  Eaves pointed to the skeletal remains. “If I’m right? Whatever she was wearing had a logo or an imprint on it.”

  Claire was curious. “How can you tell?”

  “Well, the fabric is almost glued to the remains. It happens sometimes. Depends on what the body was exposed to.”

  “Any idea how long?”

  “A long time. At least, the same amount of time as Evans and Maynard. I would guess longer. That’s not my specialty.”

  Claire nodded. “Can you remove it without damaging it?”

  “I think so. We’ve gotten pretty adept at this kind of thing, unfortunately.”

  Claire sighed. “He’s like a ghost. Leaves nothing,” she said. She chuckled caustically. “My father used to say never be afraid of a shadow, but a ghost? Those you have reason to fear.”

  Eaves listened intently. Claire Brackett’s demeanor surprised her. The agent seemed genuinely worried about the case. It was clear that something was competing for Claire Brackett’s attention. Eaves wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with the exchange in the conference room earlier.

  “Robbins is a pain in the ass,” Eaves commented.

  Claire smiled. “Reminds me of someone I knew once.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “Me,” Claire replied. She sighed heavily. “Eaves?”

  “Yeah?”

  “They were strangled?”

  “Hard to say. Hard to say what caused their deaths in most cases. Nothing evident.”

  “What about her?” Claire gestured to the table.

  Eaves took a deep breath. “The hyoid bone is fractured. I can’t say that strangulation killed her. I can tell you something or someone was bearing down on her neck. That much I can say.”

  “Asshole,” Claire muttered. “Any idea of her age?”

  “Guesstimate?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Younger than the others.”

  “Really?”

  Eaves nodded. “I’m not an anthropologist, Agent Brackett.”

  “I got it. Between us. We’re running a clock here.”

  “She’s not over twenty if I am seeing things correctly. Look, the team will be able to give you a better picture. As best I can tell, there’s still some fusion left to occur.”

  “Fusion?”

  “Bone fusion. After twenty we look for decline. She’s young, Agent Brackett. Past puberty, but….”

  “But?”

  “Barely adult. Sixteen? That’s a guess.”

  Claire hopped down from the desk she was sitting on and looked down at the remains. “We’ll find him. I promise you; we’ll find him.”

  ***

  “I wish I could say it’s a pleasure,” Candace Reid wrapped Alex in a hug.

  “I won’t take it personally,” Alex promised.

  “Sit down,” Candace offered Alex a seat. “Let’s have it.”

  “He’s out there, Candace. He’s not looking to stop—not now. He wants to play.”

  “You mean with these girls?”

  “And with me.”

  Candace sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And, you think he’s here—in New York?”

  “I think he travels through here.”

  “And?”

  “I think it’s likely there are a lot more than eleven victims.”

  “You mean before he’s through?” Candace asked. Alex shook her head. Candace groaned. “I was afraid you would say that.”

  “We might never know unless we catch him,” Alex said.

  “What do you need?”

  “Bodies. Cops on patrol. He’s picking them up somehow, Candace. Whether it’s at a bar, a truck stop or on the road—that I can’t say for sure. What we do know is that three of the four victims we’ve identified were from New York, not far from your home. We’re certain Deidre Slocum was hitchhiking her way to Maine. Claire talked to her friend. It was raining like a bitch for two days around the time Deidre disappeared. My bet is the road. God knows, there are long stretches up there with nothing—no one to see but an occasional farm, house or car driving past.”

  Candace nodded.

  “I’m sorry. I know this comes at a shitty time for you—politically, I mean.”

  Candace smiled. “Is there a good time? Politically, I mean?” she winked. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll get you the resources you need. You speak with Superintendent Foster. He’s better with the particulars. I’ll see to it that it happens.”

  “Candace?”

  “Yes?”

  “Just…Tell the girls to be careful.”

  Candace’s jaw tightened. She had two daughters and a daughter-in-la
w.

  “I don’t think you’re a target,” Alex continued. She sighed. “But, in the interest of caution, I’d be… Well, cautious. He sent a letter to the house—our house.”

  “Oh, no. How’s Cassidy?”

  “Spooked,” Alex admitted. “Her dad’s staying. The thing is, this guy, whoever he is, he wants to think he’s more powerful than anyone—smarter. With you in the spotlight now that you’ve announced your candidacy…”

  “Say no more.”

  “Sorry,” Alex apologized. “I don’t mean to make it personal, but…”

  “I understand,” Candace promised. “Any leads?”

  “Between us?”

  “Of course.”

  “Yes. Running through the rolls of two separate landscaping companies.”

  “You think he’s a landscaper?”

  “I don’t know. I think he was at some point.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  “I will. By the way.”

  “What?” Candace asked.

  “I’m glad you decided to do it. We could use you in that house.”

  “And, here I thought you hated politics.”

  Alex shrugged. “I do. It’s just some politicians I like.”

  Candace laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You should.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Claire inhaled a breath for courage and opened the door to her apartment. “Hi.”

  Hawk stepped inside. “Hi.”

  Claire closed the door, took another deep breath and looked at Hawk. “I know we need to talk.”

  “I agree.”

  “Wine?”

  “No, I’d prefer to be sober for this,” Hawk said sadly.

  Claire nodded and gestured for Hawk to have a seat on the sofa. “I’m not sure I know where to start.”

  “How about with why you walked out on me?”

  Claire’s surprise was genuine. “Is that what you think?”

  “What else would I think, Claire?”

  “I said no. I didn’t think you’d want to hear much else from me.”

  “You think that turning down my proposal made me stop loving you?”

  “No. I didn’t say that. But, you were clear that you wanted more.”

  “I do,” Hawk said.

  “Why do you want to go back to the NSA?” Claire asked.

  “What does that have to do with this?”

  “Can you please just answer me?”

  Hawk sighed. “Claire, I want to be with you. We can’t both stay at the FBI and be in the same place. You know that.”

  “And, so you think that if you marry me, that will guarantee us? That way you can leave?”

  “What? No!”

  “Really?” Claire challenged. “Hawk, I’m not marriage material. I’m damaged goods. Everyone will tell you that.”

  “Who would tell me that?” Hawk asked.

  “You want the list? Start with my partner and your ex.”

  “Alex doesn’t think that.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Claire said.

  “I think it does,” Hawk disagreed. “We’re all damaged goods, Claire.”

  “Maybe. Not all of us have my past.”

  Hawk nodded. “Do you want to know what I want? Does that matter?”

  Claire smiled. It did matter. “It matters.”

  “I want you. I don’t mean that I want you for a minute, and I don’t mean in my bed. I mean I want you—all of you. That’s what I want.”

  “And, that means we need to walk down some aisle and sign some paper?”

  “Jesus, Claire! Most women would be thrilled to have their partner propose.”

  “I’m not most women, Hawk.” Claire got up and began to pace.

  “What are you so afraid of?” Hawk asked.

  Claire closed her eyes. For some reason, she could hear Alex’s voice telling her to be honest. “I don’t want anyone to end up like her.”

  “Who? What are you talking about?”

  Claire shook her head, unable to face her lover.

  Realization hit Hawk. Your mother. “Dear God, Claire,” she whispered. Hawk made her way across the room and turned Claire to face her. “You are not your father.”

  Claire would not meet Hawk’s eyes. “You don’t know that.”

  “I do know that.”

  “How can you? I let him, Hawk. I stood there and I watched him.”

  “You were a child,” Hawk took Claire’s face in her hands. “He knew that. He took advantage of your innocence.”

  “I didn’t stop him. What does that make me? I followed him all those years.”

  Hawk pulled Claire into her arms. “Claire, stop this. You are not your father. You’re not.”

  “I’ve done it, Hawk.”

  “Done what?”

  “Killed people.”

  Hawk closed her eyes. “So have I,” she reminded Claire.

  “Not the same. I could have walked away from Elliot. I didn’t have to follow my father’s orders. After what he did to my mother? Why did I? Why did I follow him at all? I should have killed him, not Elliot. What does that make me?”

  Hawk stepped back a pace and held onto Claire’s arms. How could she have missed this? Claire was convinced that no matter how much time passed, no matter how much she had grown and changed, somewhere deep within her lurked a monster—the likeness of her father. “Look at me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Claire, please… Please look at me.”

  Claire reluctantly met Hawk’s gaze. “I can’t, Hawk.”

  “You can’t marry me or you can’t love me?”

  “I do love you,” Claire replied as a tear slipped over her cheek. “I don’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “Love leads…”

  “Love leads here,” Hawk said. “Stop this. Stop blaming yourself for who your father was. You are not him, Claire. No one believes that except you.”

  “What if I am and then one day who I am turns on you.”

  Hawk wiped Claire’s tears away with her thumbs. Few people ever saw the little girl hidden beneath Claire’s commanding exterior. Eleana, Cassidy, and Hawk—those were the only people who had ever seen the real Claire. After seeing Claire’s response to Agent Robbins that afternoon, Hawk was sure that Alex had begun to see pieces showing through. More and more, Claire was shedding her past; learning to open herself to people and to trust others. Now, Claire needed to learn to trust herself.

  Hawk placed a tender kiss on Claire’s lips. “All I want is you,” she promised. “Don’t you understand that? I’m not afraid to love you. Stop being so afraid to let me.”

  Claire opened her eyes. “Hawk…”

  “You’re afraid of hurting me one day,” Hawk said. “You think you can just push me away by refusing my proposal? You don’t know me that well,” she smiled. “You underestimate me, Claire.”

  Claire chuckled nervously.

  “That’s funny?” Hawk asked.

  “No. That’s what Alex said.”

  Hawk nodded. “She knows me pretty well.”

  “Did you? Did you love her?” Claire asked.

  “Yes, I did,” Hawk answered. “Not the way I love you. Did you? Love her?”

  “No,” Claire replied honestly.

  “But?”

  “I admire her.”

  Hawk nodded. “And?”

  Claire sighed.

  “Claire?”

  “I care about her, okay?”

  Hawk smiled. “That was painful; wasn’t it?”

  “You have no idea.”

  “You’re not your father,” Hawk repeated. “I’m not your mother.”

  “No, but we are a lot like them in some ways. Hawk, I still don’t remember everything. How can you be so sure I’m not like him?”

  “Because you don’t want to be.”

  “That’s not…”

  “That’s why,” Hawk continued. “We all have choic
es, Claire—all of us. Your father chose his path and he put you on yours. You were a girl. You lost your mother. You needed your father. He took advantage of that. That was his choice. You’re not that little girl anymore. You’re not the same Claire you were ten or fifteen years ago because you’ve made different choices.”

  “You sound like Cass.”

  “Cassidy’s a smart woman. She loves you. That should tell you something.”

  “Cassidy loves everybody.”

  Hawk shook her head. “Cassidy cares about people. You’re part of her family, Claire. She doesn’t let everyone that close, and you know it. And, trust me, if Alex didn’t think you’d changed; she wouldn’t have let you that close no matter what Cassidy said.”

  “That’s why you partnered us?”

  “No. You’re partnered with Alex because you are the best pairing. Alex needs someone who’s not afraid to challenge her and so do you. And, you care about each other. Maybe that’s mostly because of Cassidy, or maybe it started that way—I don’t know. I do know this much; you are not William Brackett any more than Alex is Nicolaus Toles or Cassidy is James McCollum. Don’t you think Alex and Cassidy fight those same demons? Let it go, Claire—please.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “Let me help.”

  “How?” Claire asked.

  “You can start by not walking out.”

  “Hawk, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to get married.”

  “How about living together?”

  “You just said that we can’t both be…”

  “I took the job at NSA.”

  “What?”

  Hawk shrugged. “No matter what your answer had been, I was going to take it. I don’t belong at the bureau. You do. You’re a talented agent, Claire. You are. Me? I need to go home.”

  Claire nodded. “And us?”

  “Home for my work is NSA. Home for me is you. At least, that’s where I would like it to be.”

  “I…”

  “You don’t have to give me an answer now,” Hawk said. “Promise me you will think about it.”

  Claire brought their lips together. “I don’t need to think about it.”

  “No?”

  Claire shook her head. “No,” she answered. Her hand began to unbutton Hawk’s blouse. “I’m tired, Hawk.”

  “Tired?”

  Claire kissed Hawk tenderly. “Tired of missing you.”