“I wasn’t always in law enforcement. Actually, I used to be in business.”
“Oh, the suit and tie guy,” Maggie said lightly. “Now, that’s an image I can’t picture.”
He gave her half a grin. “I earned my masters in finance, and was the financial manager at my church.”
“You go to church? I thought—”
“No. Not anymore.”
The short answer left her frosted. Despite her issues with her sister, and sometimes her mother, family remained important to her. Their busy schedules didn’t allow them much time to socialize, but they still met almost every week at church. She never felt more loved than at church, surrounded by family and friends. Maggie feared asking him why he left.
“What happened?”
“You’re nosy, you know that?” came his contemptuous reply. “I guess you can’t help always being the profiler.”
“So, I’m never to have conversations with anyone because oh, I don’t know, I’d be collecting information on them? What would you prefer I ask you about, Marshal? The weather?”
To her surprise, he laughed softly, but made no further attempt to respond to her challenge. Instead, he fiddled with the cross at his neck.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Hmm?” He leaned forward, his eyes on the house. He must not have seen anything important for he relaxed against the seat.
“That cross. It’s beautiful. Very ornate. Is that your style?”
Brandon rested his glittering gaze on her.
“I didn’t mean for it to sound like a joke.”
His eyes lightened and he flashed a quick but cheerless smile. “It belonged to someone I knew.”
Knew? Maggie searched his face for more but he shifted away from her, his gaze on the house. Maggie settled back in her seat. She wouldn’t apologize for making conversation. She could hold out as long as he did. If his aloofness persisted, then she’d wait him out.
“So, what’s your degree in?” he asked after a few minutes passed.
She didn’t respond.
“Oh, I get it. We’re going to act like children and give each other the silent treatment.” When she turned sharply toward him, he held up a hand.
“Are you finished?”
He looked into her eyes and she fought the onslaught of a drowning sensation. A branch snapped. She turned quickly and looked out her side of the window. A lone deer crept out from behind the tree line. Maggie slouched back in her seat and kept her eyes on the deer. Once or twice it ducked its nose into the grass, but it remained visible to Maggie. She suddenly wished she had her camera. The only animals in Washington DC were grotesquely large rats that lurked the streets at night.
“Being a cop wouldn’t have allowed me to literally chase the criminals.” Brandon’s low voice drew her concentration back to him. “High-energy, fast-paced chases. That’s what I enjoy about this job. That’s what drew me to joining the recovery team.”
“Handling money got too boring, huh?” Maggie murmured. She kept her eyes on the deer.
“Not exactly.”
After a short pause, she offered, “I double majored in criminal justice and psychology. Then I completed a masters in psychology several years back. I’m currently awaiting scheduling for my doctoral dissertation.”
“I’m impressed.” He sounded genuine. “What does your research involve?”
Maggie looked at him. “Serial killers, of course.”
A jovial smile lit Brandon’s face. “Of course. What will you do when you are Doctor Weston? Remain in law enforcement?”
Maggie shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like consulting.”
Brandon chuckled softly.
Silence settled between them. Maggie watched her deer friend leap back into the darkness. She didn’t have all the answers she wanted from Brandon, but at least he made an effort at normal conversation. She worried about his moods. What was the source of his anger? What about his family? He guarded his privacy and she could understand that, but he bordered on the unfriendly, and that sent up red flags.
Thunder rumbled in the distance. “Did the forecast call for rain today?”
Maggie shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
A couple of drops hit the windshield. Five minutes later, a steady shower. Maggie reached behind her seat and pulled a pair of night-vision goggles from a pack Brandon had secured before they’d left the hotel. When she activated them, the house lit up green. Maggie detected no movement in the area. She lowered the goggles and squinted. Without lights on the road, the only illumination came from the moon. Light shimmered across the tall heads of corn in the cornfields and cast distorted shadows across their windshield. The dim light, coupled with the rain, made for a difficult surveillance.
“Someone I knew was the victim of an attack. The would-be thief got away.”
The low, rough timbre of his voice constricted Maggie’s heart. She peered at him in the darkness. “So each and every hunt is personal for you,” she murmured.
“Yeah.”
She could hear his struggle to choke back emotion. She appreciated his battle. It couldn’t be easy: laying bare a part of his heart she knew still ached. That was why he had no faith. The person he lost…he or she mattered to him.
Brandon cleared his throat. “Let me ask you a question.”
“Um, sure.”
“Do you attend church?”
“Yes.”
“Are you happy?”
“With what?” She refused to be baited. Maggie could respect his desire to catch criminals based on some personal vendetta, but she wouldn’t give him the opportunity to criticize her beliefs because of some emotional pain.
“You know with what.” His voice was even.
She directed a sharp look at him. He held her stare for a moment and then looked out the windshield in the direction of Burrows’s home. Maggie breathed out. “Can you be more specific?”
At first Brandon chuckled, and then the sound of the rain filled her ears. “You know, with your life. The way it’s turned out.”
Sadness laced his soft voice. No sarcasm, no bitterness. Maggie didn’t immediately respond, but she knew what her answer would be.
Yes.
Her circumstances were nothing to be ungrateful for. Well educated, gainfully employed, and with a wonderful nephew she doted on when she could. A few desires were left unfulfilled, dreams she long ago believed would not come true. Did she feel happy in every area of her life? Well, probably not. Definitely not in her love life.
“I think happiness is a choice,” she began. “You can be content with your circumstances, and not let them rule you. You can’t be happy in every minute of every day. Depending on how you respond to situations will determine the strength you’ll have for the next one. I hope the more content I am, the easier it will be to persevere through my disappointments.”
He said nothing. Maggie wished she could believe every word she had just spoken, but at times even she faltered. She questioned the opportunities handed to her, or the lack thereof. But when she needed support, her family never wavered to keep her grounded. She sensed a deep camaraderie between Brandon and Bernie based on their unspoken looks. Did Bernie know Brandon’s pain? She wondered again about his family.
Maggie’s phone buzzed. She looked at the screen.
“Didn’t you cancel your date?” She heard a smile in his voice.
“Hello, Grandmother? Hi. Yes, I’m working.” Maggie looked at Brandon. He winked at her. She angled her head away. “Um, yes, I’m working with several men here. Look, Grandmother, can I call you back?” Her grandmother would insist on more information. “Please? I’ll call you when I finish the case. Thank you. Love you, too.”
Click.
“So, your grandmother sounds like a matchmaker.”
Perhaps it was her grandmother’s call, or the warmth she could feel from Brandon’s nearness, but either way, Maggie’s blood overheated. She fanned herself with a page
from her notebook. “She tries to be. She means well.”
“You’re single?”
Nothing complicated about the question, but Maggie couldn’t think of a simple answer. Yes. Yes, she was single. Why did that sound so…pathetic? “Yes, I am.” There, she said it. It was out. Now she could calm down. She put the night-vision goggles to her eyes to stare at the house. “Did you wonder that when you kissed me?”
She didn’t need to look at him to know he smiled. “Wouldn’t matter to me if you weren’t single.”
Maggie looked at him. He hadn’t moved from his relaxed position. His eyes held a glint of assurance in them. Waves of confidence rolled off him and threatened to pull her under. It occurred to her his kiss would have made things very difficult for her too…if she hadn’t been single. Thank goodness she was…
He smiled easily. “Tell me how Burrows kidnapped these women.”
Did he sense her uneasiness just now, or worse yet, what she had been thinking? If he did, he saved her from embarrassment yet again by the change of subject. Maggie’s anxiety eased.
“The one example we have, and it might have been true for the others, is Sally Mayes’s abduction.” Maggie took a deep breath. “It happened in broad daylight. She was jogging in a park and, from what Sally can remember, she passed right by him. He attacked from behind, covering her mouth with a cloth dosed with what was probably chloroform, and she woke up strapped to the chair in his basement.”
“A secluded park?”
Maggie shook her head. “Not exactly, no. Several people were out that day. But as it often goes, no one saw anything.”
Brandon groaned. “If that fair is going to be as crowded as everyone says it will be, no one will see anything tomorrow, either.”
Chapter Ten
Maggie rose early on the second day of the town’s fair. Fortunately for them, the first day ended without incident. No one sighted Burrows and, as of midnight last night, all the women on their list of potential targets were accounted for. She yawned as she glanced at the clock on her bedside nightstand. Five o’clock. Maggie groaned at the early hour but pulled herself out of bed. She padded over to the bathroom; a hot shower would wake her. She heard her phone chime, indicating she received a text.
You up yet?
Brandon. Maggie smiled at the lighthearted message. During the fair, they rarely saw each other. She spent most of the time at command and control and fielded calls from her office in DC. Her unit continued to investigate the other prisoners from the transfer bus. So far, none of the leads had any solid attachment to Burrows.
Maggie let the hot water flow over her skin. She didn’t want to think about what an ordeal the day promised to be. The estimated number of people to attend the day’s events numbered well into the thousands. The height of the Civil War reenactments would be performed, which would have a lot of agents spread thin across a significant amount of land. Finding Burrows would literally be the proverbial needle in a haystack.
When Maggie entered command and control, she sought out Brandon and found him in conversation with another deputy she recognized from the night shift. Apparently, it had been another uneventful night, or she would have gotten a call. Maggie squelched the disappointment and reminded herself that today was another day, and another opportunity to catch a killer.
As she slowly walked across the room toward Brandon, her lips fought a smile. Brandon had opened up to her the other day. Ever since, their conversations were not just professional, but pleasant. Even though they shared an unspoken agreement to remain professional, her feminine ego wouldn’t be satisfied until she knew more…had more. She knew what propelled him into the fugitive recovery business — an attack on a dear friend. Who was this friend? Was he or she okay? Why did he continue to hold on to his anger?
“Good morning.” The smile won out, and she couldn’t help sounding as bright as she felt.
Brandon turned his gaze to her, but instead of returning the greeting, he finished what he was saying to the other marshal and handed her a packet. “Here’s the list of cell phone numbers, call signs, and positions my team will be in today. Also, you’ll find some references concerning the Culpeper police and the sheriff’s department. A map of the fair layout includes the locations of the Civil War battlefield sites and where the reenactments will take place. I’m about to go brief the force on Burrows. Is there anything you want me to emphasize?”
Maggie clenched a fist and bit her tongue. She refused to allow the unexpected wave of frustration to suffocate her good mood…a terrific mood he had caused. She was wrong about the tone of his earlier text. It wasn’t playful at all. What had changed since last night?
Yesterday evening, after most of the fair participants had packed away their goods for the night, Brandon and Maggie walked around the Burrows property near the edge of the woods. The marshals conducted a grid-pattern search of the woods surrounding the residence the first day Brandon arrived in the area. The woods appeared undisturbed, but Maggie was confident Burrows remained in the area.
Then later in the evening, they conducted more surveillance. At first, Brandon resisted her attempts at conversation, but later relented. Maggie discovered a wounded heart and possibly spirit as well. A part of her pitied him. For the last five years, he could find no happiness in life; he constantly chased criminals and the next case needed to be more exciting than the last…like an addict. Maggie’s heart went out to him, but his moods left her female ego bruised.
“Um, I don’t think so. Nothing has changed. If there is anything to emphasize, it’s the picture of his mother. Have the officers focus on women who resemble her, as they will be the most likely targets.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you at the corner of Main Street and Davis at noon.”
“Fine.” She watched him walk away quickly. He called someone over and they left together.
Maggie heaved a few breaths and then let out a frustrated groan.
“It isn’t you. It’s him.”
Bernie stood beside her. “Bernie, sometimes I don’t know how to prepare. His moods are so unpredictable.” Maggie dragged a hand through her hair. “I thought yesterday we had made some progress on, well, our communication. The other night during our surveillance, he opened up a little about why he joined the Marshals. He said a friend — or someone he knew — had been attacked. Those flashes of anger and the walls he puts up have me worried.”
Bernie gave her a friendly smile and picked up a box of radio equipment. “Grab that other box of batteries and follow me outside, will you? I’ll clue you in.”
The skin on her forearms raised in expectant goose bumps. They stepped out of a back exit and Bernie popped the trunk of a Dodge Charger. He placed his box down inside the trunk and turned to receive Maggie’s.
“I know Brandon’s behavior with you has been a little inconsistent.” Bernie closed the trunk and leaned against it. He folded his arms across his chest. He sighed and then gave her a sad smile. “I want you to know his moods have nothing to do with you. At least, not directly.”
Maggie rubbed the skin on her arms. “I don’t know, Bernie. At first I thought I did, and then I didn’t, and now…” She threw her hands up, exasperated.
Bernie chuckled softly.
Maggie smiled in return. “I’m sorry. I know I sound like I’m all over the place, but—”
“But so is Brandon.”
Maggie nodded.
“Brandon was engaged once.”
Engaged! So it wasn’t just about his friend who was attacked. A woman had hurt him. I should have known. There were times she was sure of his interest in her, times they had clicked but he wouldn’t let her in. He saw her as someone who could hurt him, and he refused to know any more pain.
Maggie asked after silence had settled between them, “So, she hurt him? You know I always thought it might have been because of a woman—”
“She was murdered.”
Maggie gasped. A chill swept through her and caused he
r to tremble. She moved toward him and leaned against the vehicle. “Murdered? What…what happened?”
Bernie raised his eyes heavenward and sighed. “She was walking home and a petty street thug snatched her purse. She had it wrapped well around her arm so when he pulled, she went with it. We supposed the guy thought she was fighting back and he pulled a knife. She bled out right there on the sidewalk.”
“Oh, no. Oh, Bernie.” Maggie placed a hand on his arm.
“She had her phone in her hand so she was able to call the police, and afterward she phoned Brandon.” Bernie’s sullen gaze held hers. “She died while on the phone with him.”
Maggie closed her eyes. Her heart shuddered and she shook from the anguish she knew Brandon must have felt as he heard the woman he loved fade away. How could a man overcome such a tragedy? “So, that’s why he’s so…” She let her voice trail. Brandon wouldn’t let his heart open again.
Bernie nodded. “I knew Emily, his fiancée, for years and Brandon for much longer. Emily’s death was a hard blow to him. He couldn’t understand why God took her. He just never reconciled himself to the fact that sometimes we can’t understand why the people we love are taken away before we think it’s their time. Instead of fighting through the grief, he’s allowed his anger to fester. It has alienated most of his friends, and his family. His father is a pastor, and it pains him he can’t reach his own son.”
Maggie didn’t respond. She had never known the sorrow Brandon continued to live. She hoped if she ever did experience a loss as deep as Brandon’s, she wouldn’t shut out her family. Her thoughts drifted to Emily. “The cross Brandon wears…was it hers?”
Bernie nodded. “She was wearing it when she died. Brandon never takes it off. I suppose it’s so he never forgets.”
Maggie frowned as she recalled how often he actually fingered the cross. He would never forget, but he would also never get past the grief.
“Was she, um…” Maggie couldn’t quite articulate the words.
Bernie’s keen gaze studied her. “Yes, she was very beautiful.”
Maggie nodded and bit her lip.
Serial Games (Virginia Justice Book One) Page 13
