“I think you did.”
“I don’t think she cares. She has a hundred little plans she’s working on, and we need to warn the warden that she’s dangerous. We need a psych evaluation immediately, and not just any court-appointed shrink. I’m going to talk to the AUSA about getting my brother Dillon appointed. He’s an expert witness, consults with the FBI all the time, and he won’t be snowed by her.”
And she wanted to see her brother. All of them. She wanted her family. For years she’d detached from her family because when they looked at her, they saw her as a victim. It hurt, and she couldn’t explain it to them or to herself. She’d brought them back into her life one by one. First Jack, then Dillon, then Patrick … and with Sean by her side, she realized she could face anything. Family made her stronger.
What kind of family had created Elise Hansen?
Brad and Lucy walked out of the observation room and through the maze of security in order to retrieve their weapons from the desk sergeant.
“What’s going on with Worthington’s estate?” Brad asked. “Between the congresswoman’s money laundering and Harper’s murder, I figure it’s a mess.”
“Logan Dunbar, the agent from D.C., is staying for a week or two to process the evidence found in her house and office. There was a file in her safe that is coded, but Dunbar thinks it’s proof of her money laundering, and once they figure it out, it will lead to Tobias. Barry is working with Dunbar and the AUSA on the case and any other indictments.”
“You don’t sound optimistic.”
“I’m angry, Brad. Harper Worthington is dead because he tried to do the right thing. First he came to us—the FBI—and we turned him away. So he investigated his own wife. Mona Hill, part of this conspiracy from the beginning, has disappeared. Maybe she’s dead, but the way Tobias works he would have left her to be found—not just for us, but to keep his own people in line. Nicole Rollins is still working on a plea agreement and I really believe she could have stopped all of this—but we’ll never know. A little boy was shot to death because his parents were gangbangers, and that just doesn’t seem right. As if just because of his birth, he was condemned. And that girl—” Lucy stopped and took a deep breath. “I promised myself I wouldn’t let her get under my skin.”
“What we do isn’t easy,” Brad said.
“No one promised it would be. Thanks for letting me vent.” Lucy wanted to go home and disappear in the pool house with Sean. No phones. No computers. Just the two of them. While she was still angry with Barry for talking to people about her behind her back, she owed him big for reminding her that she had a life outside of the job.
“We have one thing we didn’t have before,” Brad said.
“What?” She thought back on her conversation with Elise but didn’t know what Brad was referring to.
“She admitted to knowing about the bomb, about the entire plan. Conspiracy. Every crime we can charge to Tobias, we can charge to her.”
“You think she can sway a jury?”
“No. We’ll both see to that.”
She hoped he was right. But she was never going to underestimate Elise Hansen.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
One Week Later
Lucy stared at the tiny baby through the glass. Her nephew, John Patrick Thomas.
He was beautiful. Perfect. John Patrick was the future, the hope of the current generation.
She and Sean had flown in Sean’s Cessna and landed in San Diego only an hour ago. Now, John Patrick was twelve hours old and had already made a huge impact on the Kincaid family. He wasn’t the first grandchild—or nephew. That had been Justin, twenty-six years ago. Lucy’s nephew who had been her best friend for the first seven years of her life … until he’d been murdered.
Nelia had been young when she had had Justin—only twenty—but with the seven Kincaid children, Lucy was surprised—and sad—that there hadn’t been another grandchild born for twenty-six years. She looked at the newborn and couldn’t help but wonder if he would be the only one.
But it wouldn’t matter. He would be well loved.
Her hand went to her hollow stomach. She wondered how it would feel to grow a little human inside her. But she would never know. The emptiness filled her, overwhelming her with a grief she didn’t understand.
“Lucy.” Sean came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Why are you crying? Is everything okay with Johnny?”
“Yes,” she managed to say. “It’s just me.”
She turned to face him. He needed to know what she was thinking, how she felt. She’d kept this pain locked up for so long … she didn’t know what to say. “I can’t have one.”
“I know that, sweetheart.” He touched her face. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”
That made the tears fall faster. “It’s … hard. I didn’t realize I’ve been in mourning for so long. When I saw Molly two months ago, saw you rock her, when you smiled down at that beautiful baby … my heart swelled because you will make an amazing dad. You glowed with her, Sean. I’d never seen you like that before. And I … I can’t give you that. We can’t have a half Lucy, half Sean. It … it hurts so much. M-m-more than I ever thought it would.”
He held her tightly, so tightly she almost couldn’t breathe. He didn’t say it would be okay, because they both knew it wouldn’t. She would survive, because that was what she did. But the pain of a loss—the grief for something she could never have—would haunt her. And because Sean loved her, it would haunt him, too. And she hated that. She didn’t want him to feel this same loss. But she held on tighter because he gave her the strength, and the will, to love.
“I love you, Lucy,” he whispered. “Forever.”
* * *
Sean had bought the engagement ring months ago, before they’d moved in together. He’d planned on proposing over Christmas, but so much had been going on, the time didn’t seem right. Then he thought of proposing over Lucy’s birthday, but Jack and his wife, Megan, had made a surprise trip to San Antonio.
But Sean should have done it long ago.
The pain on Lucy’s face when she looked at John Patrick had nearly broken Sean. He didn’t know how to make her feel better. He didn’t know how to make her feel whole again. Because to him, Lucy was exactly who she was supposed to be. He would have done anything to turn back time and stop the brutality of what had happened to her, but he didn’t understand why she thought he’d love her any less. Because whether or not she could conceive a child played no part in the enormity of his feelings. It was Lucy and him. It had to be Lucy and him, forever.
He would spend his entire life making sure she knew she was well loved.
Though originally they were supposed to stay with Connor, one of Lucy’s brothers, and his wife, Julia, Sean had told Connor they wouldn’t be coming. Instead, Sean called in a favor from a friend and took Lucy to a beach house up the coast in Mission Beach. She slept in the car and didn’t even notice that they missed the turnoff to Connor’s place.
It was late, and Sean managed to get Lucy inside without a lot of questions. It helped that she was exhausted.
“Is Connor already in bed? Should we say hello?” she asked.
“We’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Sean said, and ushered her into the master suite.
Lucy yawned. “I haven’t been here in so long I don’t even remember this. Wait—they must have moved. They weren’t this close to the beach before.”
Sean kissed her and helped her undress. He put her in bed and covered her up. “Sleep, princess.”
“I guess I’m tired.”
He kissed her.
“I love you, Sean.”
She was asleep before he could get the words out.
“I love you, too, Lucy,” he whispered and held her close to his chest. It was a long time before he, too, slept.
* * *
Lucy woke up to the sound of ocean waves. The bed was soft, with a thick down comforter. Sun streamed through high windows over the
bed, but when she opened her eyes, she saw a wall of windows overlooking the ocean.
This was not her brother’s house.
She sat up and stared. The view was spectacular. It made her realize how much she missed living near the ocean. She liked San Antonio, but her heart belonged to the Pacific Ocean.
She looked around, but Sean wasn’t there. Their overnight bags were on the floor by the door. She got up, grabbed a thin bathrobe, and went to find Sean.
The smell of breakfast filled the air. Not only bacon and eggs and fresh coffee and orange juice, but more. She followed her nose to the kitchen, where Sean had a huge buffet of food lined up. He was wearing a chef’s apron.
“Is my whole family coming here? How long do I have to get ready?” She looked around. “Where are we?”
Sean smiled and kissed her as he put a plate of fresh fruit and a pitcher of orange juice on the buffet. “Just us.”
She stared at the feast, dumbfounded. “We can’t eat all this.”
“Who cares? I didn’t know what you’d want to eat, so I made a little of everything.”
“So my family isn’t coming?”
“Nope.”
“Why aren’t we at Connor’s?”
“I wanted you all to myself. At least for today.”
“Where are we?”
“My friend Hank—you haven’t met him, but we were roommates before I was expelled from Stanford. He owns this house. He lives in Seattle, owns a major computer gaming company, comes here only a couple times a year. I traded for this weekend.”
“Traded what?” she asked warily.
“My services. Though my services are worth far more than one weekend at his beach house.”
Lucy couldn’t keep the grin off her face as she looked around the large, open floor plan and the expansive deck that jutted out over the sand. “I don’t know. I think it’s a pretty fair trade.”
“Then you have no idea how much money I make.” Sean kissed her again. “Dish up, we’re going to eat outside.”
Lucy was almost giddy. She piled far too much food on the plate and took it and a cup of coffee outside to where Sean had set up a table with flowers, seashells, and a bottle of champagne that looked expensive.
“Champagne in the morning?”
“You can add orange juice and call it a mimosa,” he said. “Start eating. I’ll be right back.”
He left for a minute and Lucy stared at the ocean. She could stay here for a week. A month. Suddenly, the idea of going back to work made her sad. She wanted this. Time alone with Sean. In this small piece of paradise. Didn’t they deserve it?
Barry Crawford was right—she needed to learn how to better turn off the job. Sean loved her for who she was, but they both deserved more down time, alone time, peace. She no longer felt that taking time off was a waste. Or, as she had in the past, that her off time gave her too much time to think about her mistakes, her past, and the pain in her life. That’s why she’d worked so hard in college, that’s why she’d had multiple internships—she’d never wanted a minute to relax. School, work and sleep, that had been her life for years.
No longer. She could now sit quietly and listen to the ocean and not panic that she should be doing something else. She nibbled on a strawberry, her favorite fruit.
Sean returned with his own plate of food. He’d left the apron inside. He poured two glasses of champagne and added just a little orange juice to the top. He held up his glass. “To us.”
She smiled and clinked her glass to his. “To you. You make everything better.”
“For the rest of my life, I hope.”
“Sean, you always do. When I see you, I know I’m okay. You’re a tether to all that is good in me.” She paused. “Last week, after that awful day when Barry said he couldn’t trust me and I had to listen to that sex tape and Tia was shot … I reverted back to my old self. Cold. Icy. I felt it happen, as if it were a physical change. I couldn’t stop it if I wanted to, but I got through the day. I didn’t think it would go away.
“Then I came home and you were there. I saw you, and all those layers just melted away. Because of you. Only you.”
Sean took her glass from her and put it on the table next to his. He held her hands. He kissed them. “I was going to take you out to dinner tonight, on the pier, and watch the sunset.”
She smiled. “You still can. I think I might be motivated to get up in, oh, nine or ten hours.”
“I thought it would be romantic watching the sun go down.”
“It is, because you’re with me.”
“But I realized this morning when I watched you sleep that sunsets are an ending, and we are just beginning. So instead of tonight, I want to do this now.” He reached behind the vase of wildflowers and pulled out a small, velvet bag.
“You’re shaking,” Lucy said.
Sean didn’t say anything. He was never at a loss for words. She looked into his deep blue eyes and saw tears.
“What’s wrong?” she said.
“Nothing. I just love you so much.” He turned her hand over and poured a ring into it. “I want to marry you. I’ve wanted to almost since the day we met. I would have proposed on New Year’s, but with everything that was going on…” His voice cracked. “You changed my life, Lucy. You gave me purpose and hope and love. I don’t want to be your boyfriend anymore. I want to be your husband.”
Lucy stared at the ring. It was both simple and exquisite, neither too big nor too small, a solitary, round, brilliant cut diamond. It sparkled as she tilted her hand. She tried to speak, but couldn’t. She slipped it on her left ring finger. She rarely wore jewelry, but it fit perfectly. It looked like it belonged.
Because they belonged together.
She rose from her seat, walked around the small table, and sat in Sean’s lap. “I love you so much.” She kissed him.
His hands tightened around her back. He was still shaking, even as they kissed.
She whispered. “You didn’t think I would say no, did you?”
“You haven’t said yes.”
She smiled at him and played with his hair. “You’ve always been able to read my mind.”
“Say it. It would make me feel better.”
“Yes, Sean. I will marry you.”
He grinned and kissed her all over her face and neck until she laughed. He leaned her back, stared at her, his dimples showing, his eyes mischievous and full of love.
“I knew you’d say yes.”
EPILOGUE
Nicole Rollins shuffled into the near-empty courtroom, feet shackled and hands cuffed in front of her.
Brad was there, her former partner. Of course he was, the noble, tragic hero. Driven by duty and honor, uncorruptible.
And Samantha Archer, her former boss. Sitting there looking like an ice princess, her long hair wound tightly up behind her head, as tight as her ass. If Brad had her position, this deal would never have been made, because Brad would have killed her. At a minimum he would have pounded the walls of the DOJ until they listened. But Sam, like so many women in high positions, didn’t like to rock the boat. It wasn’t that they were worse than their male counterparts, it was that they didn’t want to be seen as a bitch or a ball-breaker. The deal hadn’t been easy, but in the end, Nicole knew that Sam would give in just to get the name of the other traitor in the DEA.
Like Nicole would ever tell them.
Nicole’s attorney, two AUSAs, the bailiff, the court reporter, and the judge.
Wholly unnecessary because she’d already signed the deal. She’d played her part perfectly. She knew they’d never give her witness protection, but they had agreed to give her a fake identity and transfer her to a federal prison in New England. She’d made them jump through hoops, telling them how terrified she was she’d be killed, that she already had a price on her head.
She was such a good actress. Because she certainly wouldn’t be around to fulfill her end of the bargain.
She sat at the table and waited while
the AUSA read out all the charges and stipulations. What she’d agreed to do, what they would do, yada yada yada. Boring.
And then came the fun part.
“Will the defendant please rise.”
She stood.
“Do you understand the charges that have been brought before this court?”
“Yes, your honor.”
“And you have agreed to waive your trial by jury and enter a guilty plea?”
“Yes, your honor.”
“I need you to affirm that you are guilty of all charges as set forth in the document.”
“I am guilty, your honor.”
The violence was only beginning. And when Nicole was done, Brad would suffer. He might be the only one she would decide to let live. Because when everyone else he cared about and worked with was dead, he’d know it was because he couldn’t stop her.
A thrill ran through her spine. She almost smiled.
“In exchange for your plea and cooperation with the AUSA, you accept being transferred to an undisclosed federal penitentiary under an undisclosed name, where you will serve twenty years with no opportunity for parole?”
“I do.”
“Would you like to say anything to the court?”
“May I say something to my former boss?”
“Yes,” the judge said.
Nicole turned slowly, her chains rattling. She looked at Brad and Sam, her face as impassive as she could make it. “I’m sorry,” she said as contritely as she could muster. “I wish things had been different.” Different, absolutely. She wished that Brad Donnelly had actually died when he was supposed to.
“I am ashamed,” she said, “and humbled that this court and the US Attorney have allowed me to help in any way I can, as penance for the atrocities I’ve committed. I only hope that you can one day forgive me.”
She stared at Brad. He didn’t react. She winked, then turned to face the judge, her head down.
“The court will stipulate to the agreement between these two parties. Ms. Rollins, you’ll be transported next week to this court to answer questions that the AUSA has prepared regarding the known criminal named Tobias, his alleged sister known as Elise Hansen, all their associates, the explosion at the evidence locker, and reveal the identity of other compromised agents and employees of which you are aware. On Friday, you’ll be transported to federal prison, where you will serve out the remainder of your sentence.”
Best Laid Plans Page 38
