[Kate Reid 01.0 - 03.0] Unbound

by Robin Mahle

  They’d grown close because of all of this. She wondered how to build a relationship out of it. But when she looked into his eyes, she already knew the answer.

  “So how did it go this morning with Scarborough and the family?” Marshall asked.

  “It was hard, but I think we did a good thing for those parents.”

  “I think it was a good thing for you too, Kate. I wasn’t convinced, but you seem the better for having done it.”

  The nurse put his chart back at the end of the bed and left the room. They were alone.

  “You sure you’re all right? Looks like you want to say something,” Marshall said.

  “No. I’m just anxious to get out of here.

  31

  Their final night in Rio Dell. It had been a long two weeks, but they were both ready to go home. Katie stepped out onto the front porch of her childhood home for what would be the last time, at least for the next few months. “Goodbye, Mom. Thanks again for dinner.”

  “You’ll be back here for Christmas. You promise?”

  “I promise. Bye, Dad.” She waved a final time and stepped into the driver’s seat of Marshall’s rental car. He hadn’t yet been released to drive, so it was up to her. It was a small thing, but Katie felt that she was regaining control with the responsibility of the simple task of driving. It seemed that with each passing day since Hendrickson’s death, she’d begun feeling more and more in charge of her life again.

  Katie pressed the button on the door to lower her window. It was late and the air was cold and damp. The smell of the trees mixed with the soil. It brought about visions of the tall redwoods that were nearby. Her hands firmly on the wheel, she breathed in. “What happens when it’s over, Marshall? Why do I feel so empty?”

  “Because your entire life has been affected by what happened to you and now it’s done—over. I can only tell you from my experience. The only thing that can make that feeling go away is to move on to the next case.”

  Katie examined every feature of Marshall’s face with intense scrutiny. The lines that made him appear older than he was had grown a little deeper. His eyes seemed just a little wearier. But the difference now was that in those penetrating green eyes, she saw a reflection of herself. Not as she viewed herself, but as he viewed her: strong, controlled, determined.

  The tires rolled over the crushed rock with ease as it pulled around the circular drive and onto the paved road. The headlights illuminated only small sections of the road in front of them, leaving what lay ahead unknown, except to those who had traveled the road enough times to remember its twists and turns, which were still shrouded in darkness.

  “Aren’t you cold with that window down?” Marshall asked.

  “No.” The goose bumps pressed hard against the sleeves of her light sweater. “It feels clean, you know?”

  The Victoria was empty. No FBI, no police. It was a far different scene from just a couple of weeks ago; another sign that it was over and another reason for the emptiness in Katie’s chest to grow larger.

  “Wow, this place really cleared out.”

  “Scarborough said he’s only got a couple of guys left to wrap things up, apart from the forensics team.” Marshall retrieved his card key and slid it into the slot, waiting for the click.

  The minutia was burning into Katie’s mind. It was as if this was a moment she was supposed to remember forever.

  Once inside, Marshall moved to the bed and sat gingerly upon its edge, his wounds not yet healed. “You’ve been different today, distant. I don’t blame you after what you’ve been through, but something happened. Something that is pulling you away from me; I can feel it and it scares me.”

  He knew; of course, he knew. That was why he was so quiet on the drive back. Why would Scarborough tell him? “You know?” Katie sat next to him on the bed.

  “I know something’s not right.”

  She realized from his response that Scarborough hadn’t said anything. Marshall was good at reading people; something she recalled discussing with him when they first met. “Agent Scarborough asked me to train with him—well, his department—at Quantico. Says he thinks I’d make a great agent someday and he talked to his supervisor about it.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “Nothing yet.”

  “What do you want to tell him?”

  “I don’t know, Marshall. I’ve been trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do now that it’s all over. Do I just go back to San Diego, keep working for the department, eventually become a cop? I don’t know. And then, what about us? We haven’t talked about it at all, really. Not that there hasn’t been enough going on around us lately, but I can’t tell what it is you want from me, or from us.”

  “I guess I’ve been trying to figure that out myself. But I know that you and I can have a normal life. Live together, maybe; leave the door open to the future. And as far as work goes, I think you could have a hell of a career with the department in whatever role you choose.”

  “Do you think Scarborough’s right? Do you think I could do well as an agent?”

  “Of course I do, Kate.”

  “What if you came with me? He’s worked closely enough with you to see how valuable you are.”

  “He thinks I’m a good detective and he’s said as much, but, Kate, I’ve got ten years on you. I’m not looking to change careers. I’m happy where I’m at. He is right about you though; your potential. I’ve known that since that day you followed me into the parking lot, asking about cold cases and investigations.” He smiled as if the scene had just replayed in his mind. “That seems like a lifetime ago. I love you, Kate, but you need to decide what’s best for you; not me, or anyone else.”

  Katie knew he wouldn’t stop her if she wanted to go, even if it meant never seeing her again. He just wasn’t that way. But it didn’t have to be like that. It wasn’t like she’d be gone forever, or that they couldn’t travel back and forth to see each other. Why would it have to mean the end?

  She unbuttoned her shirt and slid it down her shoulders, revealing the stitches that remained and would eventually be the scar that was Hendrickson’s final mark on this world.

  Marshall reached out to touch her shoulder. He shook his head as he looked at the line on her face where there had been stitches and the yellowed bruise on her cheek. He kissed her gently, but with great passion.

  The plane touched down in San Diego. She always dreaded that part, especially at this airport where the approach was steep. As they walked down the corridor and past the other gates, they approached the baggage claim area. They had been on an early flight and so it was just now coming up on 2:00 on this cool October day. Katie was glad to be home again.

  She and Marshall stepped onto the escalator and began to descend. She noticed his expression fall as he looked on ahead of her. Confused, Katie turned to see what had caused this change and as they continued down, she saw for herself.

  Bulbs flashed and a mob of reporters pushed their way through the travelers toward the two of them. As soon as they reached the bottom of the steps, Marshall jumped in front of Katie, shielding her from the looming horde.

  The whole country had been following the story. It broke after Hendrickson was caught, but Katie had been protected up to that point, thanks to the FBI. No one had been allowed access to her and her only contact with the press had been a text message from Marc Aguilar, ensuring she was all right. Turned out, he had kept his word and didn’t leak the story ahead of time. Once they got the killer, however, it was open season for the media.

  In the sea of reporters, Aguilar emerged. Everyone shouted questions at her, asking if she was okay, if she felt responsible for her friend’s death, how she felt now. Marshall tried his best to keep her behind him as they pressed on, but then she stopped and looked at Aguilar.

  “Mr. Aguilar, did you have something you’d like to ask me?” she said.

  Marshall swung back at her in surprise.

  “It’s okay; I can do
this.”

  He lowered his arm and let her emerge from behind him.

  “Yes, Ms. Reid. First of all, I would like to apologize for our slightly adversarial past.”

  Katie smiled and waited for him to continue.

  “Can you tell me, Ms. Reid, are you sleeping better now that this is over?”

  “Yes, Mr. Aguilar, I sleep just fine now. Thank you for your concern.” She motioned to Marshall, who then continued shielding her as they made their way out of the airport and jumped in a cab.

  “I don’t expect this will go away anytime soon, Kate.”

  “Neither do I, but I can handle it.”

  They headed straight to Marshall’s apartment and on arrival, he called Captain Hearn.

  “He wants to see us first thing in the morning,” Marshall said.

  “I’m sure he does. And, it’s probably not to give us any promotions, I bet.”

  “Not likely, after some of the stunts we pulled—or, I pulled. After all, you’re a civilian. At least, for now.”

  It didn’t take much to catch onto his meaning. He was right, though. She was going to have to decide what to do. Scarborough had sent her a couple of emails with information and questioned whether or not she’d made a decision. The fact of the matter was, she hadn’t yet. “I’ll be right back.” She walked into the bathroom, turned on the cold water and dampened a washcloth that had been folded up on the shelf above the toilet. Katie pressed the cold cloth against her face, then remembered how much makeup she had on to cover what remained of her healing bruises. Oh well, what did it matter now? She was home, away from the curious stares of the other passengers and the media that were anxious to pounce on her until they bled her story dry. It was just her and Marshall now. She breathed in moist air through the weave of the cloth and then lowered it from her face.

  She heard Marshall answer his cell phone, but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying through the closed door. But one thing was certain, he was pacing the floor. The sound of his footsteps on the tile traveled down the hall. She quietly turned the handle and pushed the door just slightly ajar.

  “I’ll tell her. Thank you for the call.”

  The conversation ended and soon she emerged from the bathroom, although she behaved as if she hadn’t known he’d been on a call.

  “I just got off the phone with Agent Scarborough.”

  “Oh? What did he want?”

  “Just making sure we arrived safely and asked if we were planning on going into the station today. I told him we’d be in first thing in the morning.”

  “That was nice of him to check in on us,” Katie said as she moved toward the couch.

  “I imagine he wanted to know if we were going to see the captain,” Marshall said.

  “Why would that matter?”

  “My guess is that either Scarborough or his boss has already been in contact with Captain Hearn.”

  “Probably. Since the case crossed jurisdictions, I’m sure there’s some inter-agency coordination going on.” She was trying to deflect what he was getting at.

  “Somehow, I don’t think that’s what it was about. Senior agents like Scarborough don’t generally deal with those kinds of details. Come on, Kate. You can’t pretend not to know what this is about, can you?”

  Marshall wasn’t angry; he wasn’t being sarcastic. He was concerned and she knew that. In her gut, she supposed she already knew the answer, not just about knowing Scarborough’s inquiry, but to the bigger question; the one that loomed over every word they spoke.

  The refrigerator had no food in it, but still had a couple of bottles of water. Katie grabbed them from the fridge. “Do you want one?”

  “Sure.”

  She was stalling now and that wasn’t fair to him. “Here you go.” She handed him the bottle and stood just inches in front of him. This man would do anything to keep her safe, but she no longer needed his protection. So what would remain of this relationship that had been built from her desire for vengeance?

  “Whatever you decide, I’ll support you, but I need to know where we stand, Kate. I’ve been trying not to put any pressure on you…”

  Before he could finish, she pressed two fingers against his lips. She set their water bottles on the table next to them and held his gaze for what could have been an hour, but was really only seconds. “I know who I’m supposed to be now, Marshall. If you had said to me a year ago that I’d become this person, I would have said you were crazy. But now—well, everything’s changed and I’m different. I believe you’re different, too. And, while I think working for the FBI would be pretty amazing, I know that I can still be pretty amazing here—with you.”

  “Before you go on, I don’t want to be the reason you choose to stay, if that’s what you’re saying. This has to be your decision and yours alone.”

  “You can say that, Marshall, but you can’t expect me not to consider you in all this. I’m thinking about my life as a whole. Not just what I do for a living, but who I choose to share my life with. You’ve made me a better person, whether you want to believe it or not. I discovered who I am because of you.” Her eyes brightened. “You want to know where we stand?” Katie took Marshall’s hands in hers and raised them to her chest, pressing hard enough for him to feel her heartbeat. “I stand with you.”

  THE END

  Published by HARP House Publishing

  December, 2014 (1st edition)

  Copyright ©2014 by Robin Mahle

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means, including mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover design: Covermint Design

  Editor: Hercules Editing and Consulting Services

  1

  THE CAULEY CORNFIELD maze, the biggest attraction this side of Louisville, was closing down for the year as the autumn skies had grown somber. The season began its surrender to an unforgiving successor. Field hands began making their rounds, removing the litter left behind by too many careless visitors, and dismantling the pumpkin displays. Cleaning up after a long season of surprised teenage lovebirds huddled in dark corners, or no longer having to find little ones who had gotten separated from their parents was a time to which Wade Burrows had looked forward. It meant getting back to normal and no longer acting as some kind of amusement park manager.

  He steered his small John Deere tractor through the paths, taking down the scarecrows and stacking the now-rotten pumpkins in the open trailer attached to the back. Others in his crew worked their sections, radioing one another at the completion of each area. Wade headed toward the eastern boundary of the cornfields. It backed up to the highway with a thirty-foot buffer in between the two that was county-owned land, obscured in knee-high wild grass and shrubs.

  The twelve-foot bordering wall of the maze towered in front of him now. The section was cleared and he was ready to turn back toward the entrance to dump the overflowing trailer. As he was about to leave, the boisterous squawking of birds captured his attention and he turned his gaze upward at the sound. He’d spent countless hours working to keep the damn birds away from his crops and now here they were, a whole murder of crows. It occurred to him in that moment that he disliked the term and wondered who had decided they should be called a “murder.” Wade didn’t like it much; it left him feeling unnerved.

  The tractor engine whined as it shut down. Wade jumped off, pushing the brim of his beige Stetson hat down to shield his eyes from the glare that poked through the clouds. There must have been ten or fifteen of them, some diving down behind the tall corn stalks, disappearing from sigh
t.

  Sizing up the wall ahead of him, Wade knew that pushing his way through wouldn’t be easy. The long-sleeved cotton shirt and jeans would help avoid a corn rash, but inevitably, his face would suffer the paper-cut-like marks resulting from contact with the leaves. Still, something wasn’t right and the time it would take to drive around the fields to the back side wasn’t worth it. He figured it was a dead dog or maybe a bison calf that might have found its way out of the Boyles’ land adjacent to his fields. Either way, it was a dead something or other. Crows were scavengers and they’d eat anything.

  The stalks soon parted with the force of his gloved hands. The wall was thick; five, maybe six feet. They tried to discourage visitors from cutting through them to find their way out of the maze, and so the thicker, the better. Most of the time, the guests were respectful, but there were always the local thugs that liked to ruin things for the rest.

  The noise escalated as he pushed through to the other side. It seemed the birds sensed his approach, complaining to one another that their meal was about to be cut short.

  The end was in sight as he stepped through the final few stalks and emerged out the other side. He spotted the highway, raised high above the fields. Wild grasses and flowers covered the steep slope that led to the bottom where he now stood. Drainage for the highway, the ground was soft from the recent rains.

  Wade turned his head in the direction of the dark cluster and began walking toward it. His pulse elevated slightly on approach. It was the smell that set his nerves on end. He trudged through the deep grass and finally stopped where it had been flattened. “Shoo, shoo.” He began swatting at the birds. They flapped away, cawing at him in a harsh, piercing tone. “Oh my Lord, Jesus.” Wade removed his hat and knelt down.