by Hill, Casey
‘The blood?’ Agent Kent gestured to Todd.
‘Lennox’s, for the most part,’ Todd confirmed, surprisingly lucid, considering. His father helped him to his feet. He winced, though whether from injury or just stiff joints, Reilly couldn’t tell. ‘I thought he was Fisher. He knocked me out when I was on my way up to Fisher’s room at the hotel. Aside from the concussion, sunburn and lingering effects of being tasered and drugged, I’m all good.’
‘Pig-headed fool . . .’ Daniel muttered affectionately.
‘Get a CSI crew down here,’ Detective Reed barked at one of the nearby officers, who immediately called it in. Then he looked back in panic at the crowd of train passengers gathered near Fisher’s remains, most of whom Reilly noticed were taking pictures of or filming the dead director’s body – no doubt ready to sell the footage to media or post it all on the internet. This time, Paul Lennox would be the one being watched.
Talk about irony.
‘And a bus.’
‘I don’t want you two going anywhere just yet.’ Agent Kent scowled at Reilly and Daniel. ‘I’m going to want to know just how you ended up here before the rest of us.’
‘Before you do that,’ Todd couldn’t resist adding, ‘might I recommend getting those people on the train rounded up before they track pieces of our crime scene all over the place?’
Agent Kent’s face paled. ‘Oh shit . . .’
CHAPTER 45
The spicy smell of Cuban food wafted through the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter. Reilly listened from the kitchen of Daniel’s beach house as Todd and the trio of women – Emilie, Peni and Ivy – laughed outside on the deck beneath the lanai, snippets of conversation floating back to her.
‘. . . so Ivy takes this bucket of lime green paint . . .’
‘. . . of course, the professor’s sitting right next to me . . .’
‘. . . was the first and last time I ever drink purple nurples . . .’
‘. . . should never be allowed in a karaoke bar . . .’
She scooped up a handful of peppers and dropped them into the pan. The chunks of red briefly turned her stomach, but she forced back the memory.
The last two nights, her regular nightmare had been replaced by a new one. She was back at the train yard, her feet tangling and tripping her as she ran toward Todd. She fell in the same spot and felt familiar helplessness wash over her. She tried telling herself that it was OK, that the train would take the other track, kill Paul Lennox and Todd would be fine.
Then came the flood of guilt that she wasn’t more concerned about someone else dying. Before she could tell herself that Lennox was a murderer and not worth saving, the train was there. Only this time it wasn’t turning. The screech and whistle overpowered her screams as Todd disintegrated into a mass of flesh and blood.
Each time, she’d woken in a cold sweat, gasping for air, hoping she hadn’t screamed. After an hour of tossing and turning, murmuring the words into the darkness, she’d fallen back into a troubled sleep only to repeat the entire thing less than an hour later. Even her carefully applied make-up couldn’t hide the bags under her eyes. The same mantra had been playing in her head nearly non-stop as she tried to fend off the demons. ‘‘. . . lay you down and take your rest; Forget in sleep the doubt and pain; And when you wake, to work again . . .’
Everyone assumed her exhaustion was from the long hours spent answering questions, first from the Feds, then from the TPD detectives. How had she figured out where Drew Sheldon was? Why had she thought Wesley Fisher was the killer and the kidnapper? When had she arrived at the storage unit? Had she waited to call in when she’d found Sheldon? Why had Daniel been with her?
Reilly had answered honestly for the most part, tweaking her answer only regarding the timeline. While she could cite the Feds’ and detectives’ brush-offs as her reason for heading into the field, she knew there was no way to justify not calling in the instant she’d found Sheldon and declared the area safe. She’d been worried that the writer wouldn’t back her story in the end, but when, after five hours, she’d been allowed to leave with only a mild reprimand, she’d known he hadn’t said anything.
It hadn’t been until later that night, during one of her between-nightmare times, that Reilly started to think about what had really happened. She’d trusted Sheldon to write a scene where Todd wasn’t in any danger, but yet the writer had waited to tell her where to go until it was almost too late.
It was then that she’d remembered a comment Sheldon had made about how he knew the train’s schedule because he’d wanted to take his daughter to the tracks.
Before she’d gone into the lab, she’d swung by the hospital to check on the writer. While chatting, she’d casually slipped in a comment about the switch causing the train to go on the westbound track. Sheldon had just shrugged, but Reilly had seen the shadow flit across his eyes. She’d known then that he had only supported her timeline because it covered him too.
Evidently he’d known that the train had been scheduled to go west when he’d put Todd on the northbound track.
Then, just before she’d left, he’d added, with no prompting or context: ‘The son of a bitch threatened my daughter.’
Reilly had nodded once and walked out. She hadn’t told anyone about the exchange or about what it meant. She should have felt guilty, she knew, but she couldn’t quite seem to get that far. She hadn’t known at the time. Lennox’s blood wasn’t on her hands and if Sheldon could live with that, she could live with keeping quiet.
The only thing Reilly did feel guilty about was that a part of her was glad Paul Lennox was dead, that he wouldn’t have the opportunity to try to take advantage of the justice system and claim insanity or use some fancy lawyer to get out of the charges.
Once and for all, Lennox had been stopped. He would never kill (or direct) again.
‘If you don’t pay attention, you’re going to burn dinner.’ Todd was so close to her elbow that Reilly jumped. He’d barely spoken to her since the train yard and even those conversations had been stilted. She wasn’t sure if it was the kiss or the whole situation . . . no, she was pretty sure it was the kiss. She’d been kicking herself about her impulsive action for the past two days, but she was confident that it would get better. After all, it was just a kiss.
‘Oh . . .’ She blinked, and resumed her stirring.
‘Anything you want to talk about?’ Daniel had been asking her the same question since she’d gotten back from the police station later that night.
As she had to his father, she shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to tell Todd about her nightmares or about what she’d discovered. She was sure that given how close to death he’d come, he had enough demons of his own to contend with. ‘Just haven’t been sleeping well.’
Before he could probe further, a voice called from the doorway.
‘Need any help in there?’ Peni’s voice carried easily.
‘Almost done,’ Reilly called back. She fixed a pleasant expression on her face and turned down the flame beneath the pan.
By the time she carried the last of the meal out onto the deck, the others had already found their seats around the wrought-iron table. Reilly set the bowl of food down in the middle of table and took the last free spot, giving everyone the same fake smile. Todd’s eyes flicked toward her in concern again, but made no contact before darting away again.
‘Everything looks amazing,’ Emilie said politely.
‘And smells divine,’ Ivy gushed.
‘Thank you.’ Reilly slipped into the empty seat across from Todd. She’d taken quite a liking to Peni’s girlfriend. The poet’s carefree nature and sweet disposition was a refreshing change from all of the recent death and dismemberment.
With Todd on mandatory leave after the incident, it had been up to Emilie and Reilly to finish bagging the last of the evidence to hand over to the Feds in the aftermath.
They’d finished late the night before and Reilly had never been so glad to
hand over a case. She wanted nothing more to do with this particular psycho.
She knew that Daniel had gone with Todd to tell Alice Young that her daughter’s murderer was dead, though she hadn’t asked how it had gone. She didn’t need to. She’d been on the receiving end of that kind of conversation before.
As small talk went on around her, Reilly focused on eating, on finally relaxing a little. It was only early evening and, while she’d been tired before, even exhausted, this was only the second time in her life that she’d been bone-tired, the type of weariness that seemed to fill her very marrow.
When the doorbell rang partway through the meal, and Daniel was in the restroom, Reilly excused herself to answer it, smiling as she felt Todd’s eyes on her. The awkwardness was already starting to dissipate.
‘Steel,’ Detective Reed addressed her from the doorway. Now that the case was closed, he’d been much more pleasant to talk to. Detective Sampson was a different story – still pissed at Reilly for what she considered insubordination.
‘Detectives.’ Reilly gave them the same strained smile she’d used with the others. She stepped back and motioned for them to enter.
‘Thank you.’ Mark Reed gave her a genuine smile. ‘It’s still hot as hell out there.’
‘A group of us just sat down for dinner if you’d care to join us. Daniel and I made way too much,’ she offered.
‘That’s very kind of you, but we can’t stay long,’ Reed said, shaking his head as he and Julie Sampson ventured out onto the deck. They waved hello to the others round the table, and seemed grateful for the slight breeze coming off the gulf.
‘Sorry to interrupt your dinner. Just wanted to come by and let you all know that the Feds were already able to close two open homicide investigations in California, and it looks like they may be able to link Lennox to at least three others and a dozen assaults,’ Reed told them.
After conversing among the others for a little longer, Sampson and Reed eventually went to take their leave, dampening down entreaties from Todd to stay for a drink.
As Reilly accompanied them back out front, Reed continued to chat. ‘I heard Todd got offered Bradley’s old job,’ he said.
‘Yes, he deserves it.’ Reilly was pleased about this news, though she guessed Todd would never be able to get past the fact that the promotion had only come about because of his partner’s demise. It was for this reason that he hadn’t said much about it since confirmation had come down from Captain Harvell, and he had changed the subject a couple of times already this evening when the news had come up.
It was a pity, because she guessed that from Todd’s point of view the default advancement would only make him doubt his abilities and strengthen the need to prove himself even further. And the fact was he really did deserve it. Granted, he’d gotten himself into trouble while trying to track down Wesley Fisher, but Reilly knew that the best investigators were almost always the ones who were willing to go out on a limb and take chances.
‘I’d kind of wondered if they might have offered the position to you.’ Detective Sampson gave Reilly the same knowing smile she used to get when women at Quantico found out she was friends with Daniel. She didn’t trust that smile.
‘Not likely, my involvement was purely temporary, an emergency stop-gap. Anyway, I already have a job,’ she added, trying to keep her tone light.
‘So, still planning on returning to Dublin then?’ the female detective continued.
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
Reilly wasn’t going to admit that while here in Clearwater, her intentions had been wavering from time to time, and the emotional intensity of this particular case was making her start to wonder if she even wanted to continue in this line of work anymore.
The Florida climate and lifestyle, not to mention spending time with Todd, made the possibility of coming back to the US more appealing, but then the recent awkwardness between them made her think that she should just stay the course with the job in Dublin.
‘Well, when you do head back, we’ll be sad to see you go.’ Detective Reed’s eyes were filled with genuine warmth. ‘And speaking of going, Detective Sampson and I really should head away. It’ll be nice to finally have a weekend off.’
‘Thanks for stopping by.’ Reilly shut the door behind them. She stayed there for a couple of moments, gathering her composure again.
As she stepped back into the hallway, she met Daniel on her way to the kitchen. ‘The detectives just stopped by to let us know that the FBI’s been linking Lennox to several old cases,’ she said, trying to sound cheerful, but the bright note rang hollow to her own ears. ‘I’m going to go get dessert.’
She headed for the kitchen before he could respond. Once there, she opened the refrigerator door and reached for the applesauce, graham cracker and whipped cream concoction that Ivy had brought with her.
She spooned it into another bowl, more for something to do than any real need.
‘Everything all right?’ Daniel’s voice pulled Reilly from her reverie and back to the present.
‘Fine.’ She took out bowls and spoons.
‘You don’t look fine.’ He leaned against the counter.
‘Gee, thanks.’ She scowled playfully at him.
‘What is it? The case is over, we saved Todd, Lennox is dead . . .’
She sighed. ‘I know that.’
‘Then what? I heard what the detective said. Are you a little peeved that you weren’t offered the job?’
Her eyes widened. ‘Are you kidding me?’
‘Well then, what about the other job?’
‘What other—? Daniel . . .’ Reilly tried for a stern face, but only managed exasperated. She hated when he misdirected a conversation like that, in order to turn it round to what he really wanted to talk about. ‘We’ve discussed this.’
‘No,’ he insisted. ‘You haven’t been willing to discuss it at all. And I was prepared to let it go if it seemed like you were truly happy in Dublin. But if you’re having second thoughts – for any reason – I don’t see what the problem is.’ Daniel walked toward her, his dark eyes soft. ‘You’d be an incredible asset anywhere you go.’ He put a hand on her arm. ‘You stepped in to help on a case and ended up solving it. You took what could have been a total disaster and saved it. I’ve never been more proud of anyone, ever.’
Reilly shook her head, reminding him of his son’s contribution. ‘Todd figured out Fisher’s identity before I did.’
‘Only because he found what Bradley was chasing up,’ Daniel countered. ‘And it was the costume you found and the movie you identified that led Bradley to Fisher and ultimately Lennox.’
Reilly held up a hand. ‘Enough. I get it. I helped – a bit.’
‘Then I shouldn’t have to explain why I want to hire you.’ Daniel took a step back. ‘You’re not just the best person for a job like this – you’re the only person.’
Later, after everyone had gone home (Todd included) and Daniel had retired to his study to read, Reilly stood on the deck, watching as the sun disappeared into the gulf, the red-orange rays reflecting off of the darkening water.
The heat rolled over her, enveloping her in a comforting embrace, and she wondered if she would be able to do without it again, same as all the things she would have to do without when she went back to Dublin.
American coffee . . . corn bread . . . sunshine and blue skies . . . warm sand beneath her feet . . . morning runs on the beach . . . Pittsburgh medium steak . . . dazzling west coast sunsets like this one.
But then there were many good things about Dublin too.
Challenging though it might be, she did love her job at the GFU; loved being part of major investigations, and spending time around her team, especially Lucy, who Reilly knew had come to view her as a surrogate big sister of sorts. Then there was Chris. Reilly didn’t know if she’d ever be able to figure out Chris – or at least where their relationship truly stood. It had been so good to hear his voice when he’d called last week. But t
hat was before her . . . involvement with Todd. And Reilly couldn’t deny that on that one night, that connection they’d shared was so far beyond anything she’d broached with Chris. Yet still she had mixed feelings about both men; what they meant to her now, or what they might mean in the future.
If anything.
And then there was her dad. She wasn’t sure how Mike would feel if she told him she was considering a move back to the US. She guessed he wouldn’t be too upset – it was her home, after all. In any case, they both had their own lives and she knew that her father would go along with whatever made her happy.
Reilly sighed, feeling more confused than ever.
She wasn’t sure if she was ready to make a decision, but it didn’t matter if she was or not. She guessed that changes were coming whether or not she felt prepared.
All Reilly could do was what she’d done all throughout her life. Try to meet head on any challenges that came her way . . .
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