by Mary Stone
A silence settled over the dock, and the breeze carried with it the faint scent of roasting meat. Even in the middle of December, Virginians didn’t give up on their grilling. Maybe the next time she and Autumn came to the lake, they could be the source of the mouthwatering aroma.
When Winter glanced over to make a comment about her plan to grill, Autumn’s thoughtful stare was fixed on the distance. “What?” Winter asked.
Autumn’s green eyes flicked to meet hers. “What, what?”
“You, right now. You look like you’re in the middle of an epiphany.”
With a shrug, Autumn took another long sip from her beer. “No, not an epiphany. You mentioned Bowling Green, wasn’t that the high school that your brother went to? You guys found it when you were looking for him, right?”
Winter nodded. “Yeah. We talked to the principal, and she gave us photocopies of everything in his file. He was using the name Jaime Peterson. I saw the yearbook pictures, and it was definitely him.” She jiggled her line, her heart sinking as she thought of her brother. “We have the same eyes as our mom. My dad had green eyes, kind of like yours.”
Autumn’s lips curved into a slight smile. “I got my dad’s eyes, actually. Genetics are weird, but they’ve always been really interesting to me. Recessive traits and dominant traits, all that.”
“You studied a little of that, didn’t you? At least with regards to mental illnesses and that sort of thing?” Winter followed her friend’s lead and took another drink of her seasonal craft beer.
As she set her bottle in the chair’s cupholder, Autumn nodded. “A little. That was mostly focused on trying to decide if there’s a genetic component to things like depression or schizophrenia. Which there definitely is, but the person’s environment has a lot to do with it too. Someone can have a genetic predisposition to depression, but if they live a relatively stress-free life, then they might never actually have depression. It’s called the diathesis stress model.”
Winter returned her friend’s thoughtful nod. “I remember learning about that in one of my psych classes. Do you think that had anything to do with why Cameron Arkwell turned out like he did? I mean, he lived with two upper-class parents who clearly loved one another, but he still wound up killing five women without a shred of remorse.”
“Well, Nathan Arkwell admitted that he and his wife weren’t ready for a kid when they had Cameron. Plus, Cameron’s mother was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when he was little. If something goes wrong in those early years of development, a lot of the time, there’s no turning back from it. That’s not to say that it’s her fault. Bipolar can be really hard to deal with, even if you have medication. But to have an undiagnosed mental illness and a child you’re not ready for…” Autumn pursed her lips and shook her head, “that had to be really hard on all of them.”
“That makes sense.” Winter watched the water and began peeling the label from the bottle. “Speaking of, have you heard anything new about Nathan Arkwell’s trial?”
Autumn tugged on her fishing line, though only slightly. “Last I heard, his lawyer was filing every pre-trial motion under the sun. He was trying to get all the charges thrown out at first, then he tried to have the judge move the trial location because they thought too many people would know about the crime for them to form an impartial jury. It didn’t pan out, but now that they’re in jury selection, the defense will probably try to stack the jury.”
Winter heaved another sigh. “At least Cameron pleaded out so we didn’t have to waste our time on a trial when we knew for sure he was guilty. It’s not often someone accepts a deal that involves life in prison without the possibility for parole.”
Shaking her head, Autumn let out a little snort. “They do when they’re trying to avoid the death penalty. No prosecutor in his right mind will give the possibility of parole to a serial killer.”
With a quiet chuckle, Winter took another drink. “That’s true. Well, provided Nathan Arkwell’s lawyer doesn’t pull any more rabbits out of his hat, that trial should be starting pretty soon.”
Autumn waved a dismissive hand. “That’s all provided Nathan doesn’t plead out too.”
As Winter crossed her legs, she pulled on her line to move the red and white bobber. “You’re right. If he doesn’t plead out, we’ll probably both have to testify.”
“A cross examination from an overpaid defense lawyer doesn’t sound like a good time to me.” Autumn followed the grumble with another drink.
Winter couldn’t help her laugh. “I won’t argue with you there. That reminds me, I got an email from Maddie Arkwell the other day. She got accepted to VCU to do a pre-med program.”
At the update, Autumn smiled. “Good for her. Dan got his medical degree from VCU too. If she needs a letter of recommendation when she’s applying to her post-grad, I could ask him.”
Winter chuckled. “I doubt that kid needs any more connections. How’s Dan, anyway? Or, I guess I should say, how are things with Dan?”
Autumn seemed to perk up at the mention of the chief medical examiner—the man who also happened to be her ex-fiancé. As much as Winter liked Dan Nguyen, he must have been a special type of stupid to dump someone like Autumn.
“It’s good,” Autumn said. “He’s a good friend, and I’m really glad we can be friends. How about you and Noah? I mean, you guys always seem pretty great when I’m around, but it never hurts to ask.”
Winter grinned. Even after a few months together, thoughts of Noah Dalton still brought a smile to her face.
“It’s good. We’ve been waiting to talk to Max about it, just to make sure of everything.” Winter doubted she needed to be any more certain than she already was, but they wanted to approach Max from the standpoint of an established relationship and not one that was brand-new.
“Good call.” As Autumn shifted her line a little more, she nodded her approval. “Do you think you’ll have to change departments or anything?”
“I doubt it. But if we do…” She shrugged. She and Noah had discussed the possibility, and they were both more than willing to make the change if the SAC dictated it was necessary. “Then we’ll move. We’ll still be working for the FBI, we’ll just be in different areas of expertise.”
With a smile, Autumn nodded. “Good for you guys. I’m happy for you.”
As much as Winter wanted to blurt out a question about Autumn and SSA Aiden Parrish’s obvious affinity for one another, she swallowed the remark. She didn’t want to be the friend who pestered her only single friend about why she wasn’t in a relationship. As the dock lapsed into silence, Winter settled back in her chair.
Even through the frustration over the lack of progress in both the investigation into Justin’s whereabouts and the investigation into the identity of the third person involved in the Riverside Mall massacre, the past couple months had been relatively quiet.
But no matter the quality time Winter had been able to spend with her friends and family, a nagging sensation in the back of her mind persisted—a faint insistence that a storm was on the horizon.
Winter, Noah, and Autumn had all spent Thanksgiving at Gramma Beth and Grampa Jack’s house, and unsurprisingly, Beth had taken an immediate liking to Autumn. As soon as Grampa Jack had learned that Autumn had seen every episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation at least three times, he’d proclaimed her his honorary granddaughter.
The three of them spent the night at the house in Fredericksburg, but before they left, Beth and Autumn had swapped secret family recipes. Autumn had given Gramma Beth her adopted parents’ recipe for banana bread, and Beth had given Autumn her heavily guarded meatloaf recipe.
Winter was surprised when Beth handed over the secret recipe, but Gramma had told her that she wanted to make sure she could enjoy a good home-cooked meal even if she couldn’t make it to Fredericksburg.
As soon as Noah learned that Autumn could cook Beth’s meatloaf, he’d suggested that he and Winter move into Autumn’s one-bedroom apartment.
/> At the memory, Winter snickered to herself.
Autumn glanced up from the cooler to arch an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”
“Just remembering how Noah tried to get us both to move in with you after Thanksgiving.”
Autumn grinned. “My animals like you guys, so just let me know what you figure out.”
Winter’s grin widened. The very thought of living with Noah, sharing space with him day after day both scared and soothed her. She loved him, she knew. She loved her job. She loved her friends. She was in a good space. A calm space. Mostly.
Autumn lifted her bottle. “To figuring it out.”
Winter lifted her bottle to second the toast. “To figuring it out.”
Winter knew they weren’t just talking about her living arrangements. Or her relationship. Or her job.
Justin. Jaime. Jekyll and Hyde?
She shivered.
Even as Winter tapped her bottle against Autumn’s, the thought that they were in the midst of the calm before a tumultuous storm still lingered in the back of her mind.
4
The lack of patrons seated throughout the cozy dining area of Emmie’s Bakery lent an air of exclusivity to Noah and Bree’s little corner booth. Though business hours had ended earlier that afternoon, Bree Stafford and her fiancée, Shelby, had called ahead weeks ago to reserve a timeslot for a cake taste testing. Their wedding wasn’t until May, but they wanted to get a head start on making all the arrangements.
When Shelby’s work trip to California had been extended by a few days, Bree extended an invitation to Noah. She’d told him that she wanted her friend with the best appetite to join her for the taste test.
As Noah took his seat across from Bree, a middle-aged woman with honey-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail approached the table. Her nametag read Emily, and Noah could only assume she was the proprietor of the homey business.
With a wide smile, Emily brushed off the front of her pastel blue apron. “Nice to see you again, Bree. Where’s Shelby? Could she not make it?”
Bree wasn’t able to completely hide her disappointment behind the wide smile she gave the woman. “No, she had to work.” She introduced the two, waiting through the greetings and hand shaking that followed. “Emily owns the bakery. Shelby and I have been coming here for years.”
“Nice to meet you.” Noah patted his belly. “I’m a big fan of your work.”
The corners of Emily’s blue eyes creased. “It’s always nice to meet a fan.”
Though Bree hadn’t brought a cake to work in months, Noah could still recall the praises Winter had sung about the bakery’s German chocolate triple decker. He would have to make a mental note of Emmie’s Bakery when Winter’s birthday rolled around.
“We’ve got all the flavors we talked about ready for me to add the frosting. First…” Emily wiggled her index finger, which was painted a pastel blue, “butterscotch, then strawberry, Italian wedding cake, good ole marble, red velvet, and last but certainly not least, lemon blueberry. Plus, I’ve got a few different flavors of frosting to use too.”
As Emily counted off types of cake on her fingers, Noah absentmindedly patted his belly. He’d thought about skipping lunch so he would have plenty of stomach space available for tasting, but he’d lost the battle a couple hours ago when he’d ordered a basket of chicken strips from a restaurant close to his and Winter’s apartment complex.
Bree offered Emily an appreciative smile. “The lemon blueberry is Shelby’s favorite. She loves lemon blueberry everything.”
Noah rubbed his hands together. There was too much talk, not enough eating going on. “It’s a good combination. Your wedding is in May, so you’ll be well into the spring season.”
Raising her eyebrows, Emily nodded. “That’s true.”
Bree leaned back in her seat, seeming to be equally surprised and impressed with this insight. He might be a constantly hungry behemoth, but he hadn’t been raised in a barn.
“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind,” Bree said, sounding more than a bit in awe.
Emily took a step back. “Perfect. You two get comfortable, and I’ll bring out a couple glasses of water while we get those cupcakes frosted for you.”
As their hostess departed, Noah tossed the napkin in his lap. Chicken strips or not, he was always ready for cake. Bree typed out a message on her phone before returning the device to her pocket as Emily set down their water.
“How has your weekend been so far?” Glancing to him, Bree took a sip from her glass.
Shrugging, Noah squeezed a slice of lemon into the water. “Can’t complain. Seems like it’s the first weekend I’ve actually had off since I started at the bureau. Well, no, that’s not true. Last weekend was the first weekend I feel like I’ve had off. This weekend’s just a bonus.”
Bree spooned out a piece of ice and popped it into her mouth. “The down time is nice, even if it is filled with paperwork and meetings. Speaking of, have you and Winter had ‘the talk’ with Max yet?” She even raised her fingers to add air quotes.
As he shook his head, Noah let out a half snort, half laugh. “SAC Osbourne is a grown man. I’m sure his parents had the sex talk with him a long time ago. Besides, he’s my boss. That’d be weird.”
Midway through tucking a piece of curly hair behind her ear, Bree fake scowled at him. “I guess I was asking for a smartass response, wasn’t I?”
Noah grinned. “You were, yeah.”
“Okay, but really, have you two told him yet?”
He tapped a finger against the cool glass, already dreading the conversation. “Not yet. The plan is to do it sometime this week, maybe even tomorrow. I’ve actually been meaning to ask you about it. What do you think will happen? It doesn’t seem like there’s a real hard and fast policy on two colleagues having a relationship. At least not when they’re both on the same level.”
Bree nodded her understanding. “There’s not, really. I’ve been with the FBI for about twenty years, and this is definitely not the first time I’ve seen something like this happen.” She offered him an exaggerated wink.
“What happened with those people?”
“Not much. They just weren’t partnered up on cases anymore.”
Noah frowned, looking thoughtfully into his glass. “We’ve already been making a point not to do that. It just didn’t seem like it’d be a smart idea. Conflict of interest, unprofessional, all that jazz.”
“Max will appreciate that,” she said. “You guys will be fine. I know Max seems like a hard-ass most of the time, but he’s been married for more than thirty years. He’ll get it. Plus, you two are great agents. There’s no way he’s going to run you out of the department, especially not after the work you both did on the Arkwell case.”
Jumping at the chance to change the subject, Noah said, “Speaking of, Nathan Arkwell’s trial is about to start soon, isn’t it?”
With a look that landed somewhere between sarcastic and matter-of-fact, Bree shook her head. “It is, but I’d be surprised if it went to trial. The felony murder rule is a stretch for a guy like Nathan Arkwell, especially considering that Cameron is his son. When defense lawyers file a whole heap of motions like Arkwell’s lawyer has been, it’s because they’re trying to drag out the process and make it as expensive for the government as they possibly can.”
Noah attacked a knot in his neck with his fingertips. Just thinking of the Arkwells and their fucked-up family caused his muscles to contract. “Right. It’s almost like they’re showing off or making a point about how obnoxious they can be.”
Bree flashed him a thumbs-up. “Bingo. Most charges are resolved with plea deals, anyway. I can’t remember the number off the top of my head, but I want to say it was close to ninety percent. That’s what I think will happen.”
Drumming his fingers on the tabletop, Noah returned his gaze to Bree. “Well, in all fairness, I don’t think Nathan Arkwell deserves to be thrown in prison for the rest of his life. He’s not a bad guy, just an i
diot. There are better ways to get him to give back to society than have him languish in some cushy prison.”
The smile that crept to Bree’s face was almost prideful, like she was a parent looking over her child’s first honor roll letter. “I might not have been around for the investigation, but I think you’re right. That’s what justice is. It’s not about throwing the book at everyone we run into. It’s about doing the right thing. Like with Ryan O’Connelly. We gave him the opportunity to do the right thing, and he did.”
Noah cast a quick glance around the empty dining room. “Speaking of Ryan, seems like he and Agent Welford have been hitting one brick wall after another looking for the third person in Haldane and Strickland’s manifesto.”
After the Arkwell case, Bree had arrived back just in time to follow up on a handful of dead end leads in their newest ongoing investigation.
“They have been,” Bree said. “It would be really helpful if we could find whoever posted the manifesto in the first place, but I’m not sure how feasible that actually is.”
Noah took another sip of water. “I’m not sure, either. I do know that’s the first lead they chased down, though. All they could pin down from it was that the document was uploaded from a public wireless network at a restaurant downtown. The wi-fi signal is in range of at least five different places of business, not to mention the apartments above the restaurants and bars.”
With a thoughtful look, Bree nodded. “We looked through security camera footage but didn’t see anything that looked out of the ordinary. There are tons of people in that area that come to use their laptops for work or school. Even when we narrowed it down to the approximate timeframe of the upload, there wasn’t anything that stuck out.”
“I guess that’s where the old phrase ‘needle in a haystack’ comes into play, huh? Trying to pick one weirdo out of a whole crowd of people isn’t always easy.”
