Untold

by Nancy Ann Healy

  Cassidy’s teeth tugged at her bottom lip in a futile effort to stem her emotions. Nothing in the world meant more to her than her family. That was the truth. Still, Helen’s words reverberated in her chest. She did need something to fall back on, something to remind her from time to time that she was not just Mom or Alex’s wife or someone’s daughter. “Sometimes, I worry I’ve forgotten how.”

  Helen smiled. “How to be just Cassidy?”

  Cassidy nodded.

  “Oh, I think you’ll find she is right where she’s always been,” Helen said. “I realized the day Alexis brought you home that I had let myself slip away somehow. You’re not me. You’re much stronger.”

  “I don’t think…”

  “You are,” Helen said. “Alexis has always been one to look for a challenge to master.”

  Cassidy chuckled.

  “This family is no exception,” Helen added.

  Cassidy laughed.

  “That’s been her nature since the moment she came into the world. Yours is not the same. You’re a guide,” Helen observed. “That’s what teachers do in the end. That’s what parents do in the end. They learn how to communicate in a way that others understand. It allows them to nurture. That’s you.”

  “Maybe you should have been a teacher,” Cassidy said.

  “Me? No. I’m a cook. I feed people.”

  Cassidy rolled her eyes. “You’re a lot more than a cook.”

  “The truth is, Cassidy, I’m not sure what I was meant to be. I spent so long away from myself, I lost sight of it. I know you don’t think that’s what you’re doing. You need something for you. Don’t deny yourself that.”

  Cassidy leaned over and kissed Helen on the cheek. She sat back and enjoyed watching the twins for a few minutes as she processed her mother-in-law’s thoughts. “You know,” she said. Helen looked over at her. Cassidy’s eyes remained focused on Abby and Connor. “My kids aren’t the only ones who were lucky enough to get two moms.” She smiled and looked at Helen. “I think you’re wrong.”

  Helen was stunned.

  “You are a teacher. I see what you can’t. I have a different vantage point,” she winked and turned her attention back to the playful children skipping through the yard. She’d noted tears were gathering in Helen’s eyes. Without a word, Cassidy reached over and took the older woman’s hand, content to sit in companionable silence.

  ***

  “Claire?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “How’s Jameson holding up?” Alex asked.

  “Seems okay to me.”

  Claire’s response didn’t surprise Alex. Jameson Reid grew up in a law enforcement family. She had two brothers, which meant she could hold her own physically, and Alex had learned from their visits that Jameson possessed a quiet confidence.

  “I take it he hasn’t shown yet?” Claire guessed. She heard Alex sigh. “He will.”

  “Unless he got spooked.”

  “Nah. He’s probably playing Patty Cake in his basement by himself,” Claire replied. “Give him time. He’ll show.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Hey,” Claire softened her tone. “He’ll show. You said it yourself; he can’t resist. Besides, did you see that piece on the news this morning? I’ll bet he did. He’s coming, Alex.”

  “Just stick close to Jameson.”

  “I think I might worry about him more than JD.”

  “JD?” Alex asked.

  “That’s her name; right?”

  “You like her,” Alex surmised.

  “She’s real,” Claire said honestly. “And, she’s no pushover, Alex. Pretty sure she could do what we do if she wanted.”

  “Probably so,” Alex agreed.

  “Even without us, he’d be getting more than he bargained for with her.”

  Alex snickered. Probably so.

  “You just make sure you don’t tip his ass off following him here.”

  “You want first crack, huh?”

  “You have no idea,” Claire said.

  “I’ll let you know,” Alex promised.

  “I’ll be waiting for your call,” Claire replied sweetly.

  “Fuck you, Brackett.”

  “So much fucking with you, Toles. No wonder Cass is pregnant every time I see you.”

  Alex laughed. “Goodbye, Claire.”

  Claire placed her phone in her pocket and laughed. “She is so easy.”

  “Nothing yet?” Jameson asked.

  “Nope. He’ll be there.”

  Jameson nodded.

  “You know, your wife is going to kick your ass when she finds out how close you’re letting him get,” Claire said.

  “No, she won’t. Well, maybe a little,” Jameson laughed.

  “You seem calm. It’s not every day you let a serial killer into your home.”

  “I guess not,” Jameson replied. “I heard what Alex said. If he makes the move toward me, if he starts to chatter; it gives you even more to nail his ass to the wall. That’s if I don’t pull out my nail gun and beat you to it.”

  Claire grinned. “You’re not as mild-mannered as people think; are you?”

  Jameson shrugged. “I am as long as you don’t hurt someone I love.”

  Claire nodded. She looked around the kitchen. “Big kitchen.”

  “Big family,” Jameson replied.

  “How come you offered?” Claire asked curiously. “To do this; I mean?”

  “Shell is Candace’s daughter,” Jameson replied. “That makes her my daughter—as strange as that might seem to some people.”

  “Nah, I’ve seen strange,” Claire said. “That ain’t it.”

  “I can only imagine. You? Why do you do this?” Jameson asked.

  “Don’t know if I can answer that. It’s just kind of the thing I always seemed destined to do.”

  “Catch criminals?”

  Claire laughed. “More like find a way to cause trouble without going to jail.”

  “Married?” Jameson asked.

  “Me? No.”

  “Really?”

  “Do I seem like the marrying kind?” Claire asked.

  “Is there a kind?”

  “If there is, it isn’t me.”

  Jameson nodded and turned to start a pot of coffee.

  “Oh, no. Alex does that all the time,” Claire said.

  “Alex does what?”

  “Nods her head and goes to do something else when she thinks I’m nuts.”

  “Does that happen often?” Jameson asked.

  “Pretty much.”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

  “You don’t?” Claire asked.

  “No. I swore I’d never get married.”

  “What changed?”

  “Candace.”

  Claire chuckled. “Just like that?”

  “I don’t know,” Jameson said. “Coffee? I’d prefer a beer, but something tells me that’s frowned upon.”

  “Got any?” Claire asked.

  “Beer?”

  “Yeah.”

  “In the fridge.”

  Claire made her way to the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles. “Pour that shit out,” she gestured to the coffee cup in Jameson’s hand. “Tell me you can hold one?”

  “I think I mastered that in the ninth grade.”

  “Good.” Claire popped off the caps with a key and handed Jameson a beer. “Now, if we both survive this nightmare nursery rhyme, I will buy you a shot to celebrate.”

  “And, if we don’t?”

  Claire held up her beer and clicked it against Jameson’s. “We will.”

  “You sound sure.”

  “Hell, serial killers are nothing compared to marriage.”

  Jameson lifted her beer. “Here’s to survival mode.”

  “Is that what you call it?”

  “What?” Jameson asked.

  “Marriage,” Claire said.

  Jameson laughed. “Something tells me we’ll need more than this for that conv
ersation.”

  Claire shrugged and took a pull from her beer. Definitely.

  ***

  Alex sat in the back office at Candace’s Campaign Headquarters nervously drumming her fingers on the desk.

  “Should I know that tune?” Jane Merrow asked when she walked in.

  “You’re here.”

  “In the flesh,” Jane replied.

  “Thanks.”

  Jane nodded. “Always happy to help.”

  “Does that mean me or Candace?”

  “Both,” Jane said. “I am curious, Alex; why not just arrest him here?”

  Alex groaned. “There’s more than one reason,” Alex said.

  “Enlighten me.”

  “You have to promise not to tell Candace.”

  Jane nodded. “Let me guess; the powers above don’t want a take-down of a serial killer in her campaign office.”

  “Something like that.”

  “I figured as much. What else?”

  “The best evidence we have against this guy is what we found in that house yesterday. If that body is Brad Lawson—between that and the trophy case in the basement it’s a pile of circumstantial evidence.”

  “And, that’s the problem, I gather.”

  Jameson shrugged. “You know the drill, Jane. This isn’t the CIA. The FBI still operates in the courts and the court of public opinion. It’s just as political as what we did together. The difference is the outcomes end in a court of law. Juries like forensic evidence. I’ve got nothing in that department but hope.”

  “Explain.”

  Alex sighed. “Well, Claire and I collected a few things in that house we think are likely to have the killer’s DNA on them. The best possibility was a Coke can in the basement. Just so happens we have a few soda cans from a place we think he frequented—a place where he could visit his burial plots undetected. It’s a long shot. If there is DNA from the can in that house that matches even one of those cans we found in the woods…”

  “And, if that matches this person you expect will show up here, you’ll have some compelling evidence.”

  Alex nodded.

  “And?” Jane asked.

  “Well, if we get him on tape making a play or even some type of backhanded confession…”

  “Oh, Alex.”

  “I know. I hate this. This office has people coming and going all day. It’s a risk to pursue him here. This plan is the best chance to get him without having anyone else compromised.”

  “Including Candace.”

  “Yeah,” Alex admitted.

  “What about Jameson?” Jane asked.

  “Claire’s with her.”

  “Whose decision was that?” Jane inquired.

  “Mine.”

  “Is that so?”

  Alex groaned. “She won’t let Jameson get hurt, Jane and she won’t let this asshole slip past us either.”

  “You don’t need to convince me,” Jane said. “I’ve been at this a long time, Alex. I’ve seen this from both sides of the street—if you know what I mean.”

  “I do. So, why the questions?”

  Jane smiled. “Based on that drumming and the expression on your face when I walked in here, you needed to hear yourself say that. It’s not me, Alex—it’s not Candace or Jameson, or Claire or anyone of the agents out in that office behind us that need to trust you—it’s you.”

  Alex sighed and began to massage her temples. “There are risks. We both know it.”

  “There are always risks, Alex. You know that better than anyone.”

  “Thanks. That makes me feel so much better,” Alex rolled her eyes.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Remind me not to call you when I need a confidence boost.”

  Jane laughed. “If you didn’t think this was the right course, we wouldn’t be standing here. Stop second-guessing yourself. Doing that will only increase the risk to everyone.”

  Jane was on point. Alex was about to continue the conversation when the door opened.

  “He’s in the parking lot,” Agent Robbins said.

  Alex nodded. Robbins closed the door. Alex looked at Jane. “Showtime,” she said.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Michelle took a deep breath.

  Agent Robbins whispered in her ear. “Relax,” he tried to calm her. “If he senses you are nervous, play it off as Jane Merrow being here today.”

  Michelle looked at the agent beside her and smiled. “Thanks.”

  Robbins nodded and stepped away, heading back to where a coffee maker was kept. It would give him a line of sight to the suspect and Michelle.

  Michelle moved to a large bulletin board and began pinning volunteer names to it.

  “Hi,” a voice called to her.

  Michelle turned and met the gaze of the man she knew as Brad Lawson. “Hey. I’m glad you are here.”

  “Really?” he asked.

  Michelle smiled and finished pinning a cut-out to the board. You can do this, Shell. Just like it was yesterday. She stepped up to him. “I was hoping you’d show. I looked to find your number, but we don’t seem to have one here for you.”

  “Yeah, I sort of dropped my cell phone a few days back. I need to replace it.”

  Michelle nodded.

  “You were going to call me? Need somebody to change a lightbulb again or clean a chimney?” he asked.

  “Close,” Michelle said. She reached into her pocket. “I mentioned you to JD…”

  ***

  Alex watched and listened carefully to the conversation taking place in the other room. She smiled. “She’s good,” Alex said.

  Jane stood over her shoulder watching the scene unfold. “She has a future.”

  “In the FBI?” Alex asked without diverting her eyes from the screen in front of her.

  “No.”

  “Always recruiting,” Alex commented. “Bring it home, Shell. Bring it home.”

  ***

  “Your step-mother?” Brad asked.

  “Yeah. She called me early this morning. Wondered if you had any carpentry skills.”

  “I can handle a saw.”

  Michelle forced herself not to shiver. “I don’t have any idea what she’s up to. My sister and her kids took off for the weekend. I guess that gave JD the bright idea to bite off more than she can chew with some project,” she laughed.

  He tipped his head.

  “Her number is on that card,” Michelle explained. “If you’re interested. I hate to lose you, but she pays better,” Michelle joked.

  ***

  Alex chuckled. “She pays better? Nice, Shell.”

  “What do you think?” Jane asked.

  “If he doesn’t take the bait, we take him. I’m not risking losing him again.”

  Jane nodded.

  “Did you get that Robbins?” Alex asked.

  Agent Robbins picked up the phone on the table in front of him and answered Alex. “Understood.”

  ***

  “Lots of people here today,” Brad commented.

  “Oh, yeah,” Michelle glanced around the office.

  “Sudden surge?” he asked.

  “No, just sort of happens when someone is occupying the back office,” she gestured with a nod.

  He brightened. “Your mother?”

  “No,” Michelle shook her head. “Safe to say she’s tied up at the Capitol.”

  He grinned. Tied up?

  “Jane Merrow is fielding some press calls and meetings today.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope. She’s good friends with my mom.”

  “Huh.”

  “Like I said,” Michelle continued. “I’d love you to stay and help me manage all the excitement, but JD pays better. In other words, she pays money, not just bad coffee.”

  He smiled. “She doesn’t have a crew?”

  “JD?” Michelle laughed. “JD likes to do everything herself. She should build herself a doghouse for the trouble it gets her in.”

&nb
sp; He chuckled. Oh, I’m sure we can arrange that. “I’ll give her a call.”

  ***

  “Bingo,” Jameson commented. “Robbins, I’m on my way to the car. Johnson, you have the make on his?”

  “Yep, he arrived in a 2012 Toyota Camry—black. License plate, 203 XDG Connecticut. It’s registered to a Jennifer Benjamin.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Alex replied. “Smart bastard. It’s registered under his wife’s maiden name.” She picked up her jacket and headed for the back door.

  “Be careful, Alex,” Jane said.

  Alex nodded. “Keep an eye out in case he circles back,” Alex said. “Robbins will be here. Johnson and I will tail him to Schoharie.”

  “Just be careful,” Jane repeated.

  “I promise.”

  ***

  Jameson picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Um, hi. Shell gave me your number. We met briefly the other night…”

  “Oh yeah, Brad; right?”

  “Yeah. She mentioned you might need some help with something.”

  “I could. I seem to have taken on a little more than I bargained for.”

  “What kind of project?”

  “Well, it’s supposed to be a surprise. Our grandson and our son have taken to building forts all over the house,” Jameson explained. “I started the framework—a fort of sorts, but I think I might have been too ambitious for a weekend project. Candace’s daughter will be back Sunday, and if I leave a mess, I’ll probably be forced to live in the little shack I’ve yet to finish.”