by Anne Patrick
It was taking every ounce of his restraint to stick to his part of their agreement, to keep it professional. He knew a long distance relationship would be difficult, but he was willing to pursue it if she was. And according to their phone conversation, she was definitely interested.
Aggravated at his inability to concentrate, he left his office and shouted some orders on his way out the door. He then climbed into his Jeep Cherokee and headed to Portland to meet with the waitress he had questioned on Wednesday. She'd given a fairly good description of the man she saw accompany Margaret Miller into the lounge and had agreed to work with a sketch artist to come up with a composite drawing of the possible suspect. He'd been surprised Jo hadn't asked if he'd learned anything from the woman, but then remembered that profilers didn't like to know about any suspects the police might have, for fear it might influence their profile.
It took him a half hour to locate the address the witness had given for her apartment and he was relieved to find her standing outside waiting for him when he pulled to a stop in front of the huge complex. "Sorry I'm late, hope you didn't have to wait long," he said as the pretty blonde climbed into the passenger seat.
Amy Fugate, a second-year med student, worked at the airport lounge to help pay her tuition. A waitress for three years, she'd been adamant in her statement Wednesday, that the man was a frequent visitor to the bar. "I hope this isn't going to take too long, I've got a class in an hour and a half."
"That's fine. We don't have to complete the sketch today, but I do need it as soon as possible."
"Is there any chance this guy might figure out I'm doing this and come after me?"
There was always that possibility. Not wanting to frighten the young woman, though, he considered Jo's preliminary profile. "These guys usually don't stray from their original targets so unless you graduate medical school before we're able to catch him, you won't have anything to worry about."
"Good heavens, I certainly hope you catch him before then," she said and he joined her in laughter.
*****
Detective Willis Gibson, the sketch artist with the Portland Police Department, stood only five-five and was about as round as he was tall. Leading them into a small office that looked like it was once used as a closet, he sat down behind a computer. "Have a seat and we'll get right to work."
"Go ahead and get comfortable, Amy." Austin pulled the chair out for her. "I'll go see if I can't find a soda machine. What would you like to drink?"
"Diet Coke, if they have one, if not, Coke is fine."
"How about you, Detective?"
"Coffee with cream and two sugars."
The precinct was a busy one. Cops, both uniformed and plain clothed ones, were scattered throughout the processing area, and more than a dozen men and women in handcuffs and leg irons sat on benches along both walls. It reminded him of his time with the L.A. County Sheriff's Office and made him appreciate his job more than he had in a year and a half.
Drinks in hand, Austin returned to find the pair hunkered together staring at an oval face. He paused in the doorway and watched as the officer pounded a few keys and a pair of eyebrows was added. 'This is going to take days at the rate they're moving,' Austin thought, discouraged by their progress. He contemplated having Jo call and get someone from the FBI to do the sketch. Not wanting to waste any more time, though, he decided to stick this one out. After setting their drinks down beside them, he took a seat across the room and began to read the Most Wanted posters.
An hour and a half later and they weren't even halfway finished. "I'm sorry, but I've got to get to class."
"That's okay, if you're free tomorrow, we can work on it." The officer turned to Austin. "That okay with you?"
"It's fine with me. Just fax it to my office when you're finished."
"You got it."
"Sorry I wasn't much help today," Amy said as he drove through the entrance of the college.
"You did fine. Main thing is, we get it right."
She nodded. "I've been giving it a lot of thought, and I'm pretty sure I'd seen him around before…not just in the lounge."
"Do you think he may work there at the airport?"
"He could."
"But you're sure he's been in the lounge before?"
"I'm positive."
"You've been a big help, Amy, and I appreciate it."
"Glad to help. Right here's fine."
He rolled to a stop and watched her climb out of the Jeep. "If you think of anything else—"
"I've got your number. I'll call."
He smiled. "Thanks, Amy."
On the drive back he went over their conversation. It was a good possibility he worked there at the airport. Austin considered the positions that would bring him into contact with the women. A flight attendant or someone who worked behind the counter at an airline seemed the most likely. He would know if the woman was traveling alone, and by checking their ID's when they checked in, he would have access to their addresses and know they were visit the area.
As soon as he arrived back at the office, Austin had Slim call all the airlines and request flight manifests and lists of all the male employees who worked the check-in counter or as flight attendants. "Be sure and get their addresses as well."
"We're probably going to need a search warrant."
"Then get one. I want them on my desk by tomorrow afternoon."
"Sure thing, boss."
Since he'd planned on working tomorrow, Austin decided to call it quits around four in the afternoon. He usually took the weekends off to spend time with Bailey, but as of lately hadn't managed any days off. The past week he'd only seen his daughter in the mornings and right before bed, a habit he knew he needed to change.
With that thought, Austin decided they could both use a night out. He hurried home, hoping to catch Bailey before she took off with one of her friends.
Bailey sat on the sofa with her cell phone to her ear. After a quick goodbye, she ended the call and tossed him a smile. "What are you doing home?"
"I thought we might go out to dinner, and maybe a movie. How's that sound?"
"Dad, its Friday night."
"So, you don't want to go out for dinner and a show?"
"Not on a Friday night. It's a date night, Dad. I can't be seen at the movies with you on a Friday night."
"Oh yeah, sorry, I forgot. So what, you have a date tonight?"
"No, I can't date till I'm thirty. Remember?" Bailey answered with sarcasm. "Jesse and I are going to go hang out at the arcade, maybe play some pool. Why don't you call, Jo? I bet she'd go to the movies with you."
"She's working."
"So go work with her."
"I can't, she's working on the her profile of the killer. She needs to be alone."
Bailey tilted her head to the side, one eyebrow raised. "She hasn't already dumped you, has she?"
"No, she hasn't dumped me."
"Are you sure?"
A smile crept to his lips. "You make it sound like I can't keep a woman around."
"Dad, look at your track record. Before Jo came to town, you hadn't been on a date in what, six months?"
"It hasn't been that long, and it hasn't always been me that ran them off."
"So what, am I suppose to feel sorry for you now and cancel my plans for tonight?"
"You could at least have dinner with me."
"Oh, all right." She let out a heavy sigh and started punching buttons on her cell phone.
"Brat," he said and walked off.
"I heard that."
*****
Instead of the usual cheeseburger at Bertha's, Austin took Bailey to Al's Pizzeria. Being a Friday night, the place was packed with teenagers and young couples visiting with friends, making plans for the weekend ahead. Austin immediately thought of Jo and wondered what kind of carry out she was having tonight or if she was even eating. He considered calling her and inviting her to join them, but then recalled the description of herself she'd given while doi
ng a profile and quickly changed his mind, figuring she wouldn't appreciate the interruption.
"You miss her, don't you?" Bailey asked, her gaze leveling on him.
"Is it that obvious?"
"You mean other than the fact you've been moping around the house like a love sick puppy, and acting like a bear awakened early from hibernation when you're in the office?"
"How would you know how I've been acting at the office?"
"I stopped in at Bertha's after school for a Coke and ran into Walt. That's how he described you. Surely Jo wouldn't mind if you at least called to check on her. It would show you cared."
"She knows I care."
"Come on, Dad, she's a female, we need to be reassured."
"How is it you know so much about relationships when you've never even been on a date…you haven't been on a date, have you?" Austin tried to mask his alarm with a smile.
"No, I read a lot and watch my friends."
"That's even scarier." The fact that his daughter was only a year away from the usual dating age had troubled him a great deal this past year. Austin knew he should probably discuss the subject of boys with her, but as of yet hadn't worked up enough nerve. This was his baby girl. The thought of her becoming a young woman terrified him.
"So are you going to give her a call?"
"Maybe later."
"Chicken."
He grinned at her accusation. It was true. He was afraid to call her. Even though he knew she was interested, he was scared to make the first move, to let her know just how much of an effect her absence was having on him.
"Did you know she hasn't talked to her family in two years?" Bailey asked, before taking a sip of her soda.
Her question didn't surprise him. She'd been present at Slim's cookout and had probably seen Billy make a fool of himself. "I suspect Jo has her reasons."
"Yeah, but don't you think that's a little strange. I know Mrs. McDaniels, and she's a nice lady."
"So is Jo," he was quick to point out. "Besides, not all families are close. Whether it be issues from the past or the fact that they live so far away from one another."
"Well, I think it's pretty sad. I mean, I can remember being mad at Mom, but to go that long without speaking to her, I wouldn't have even imagined it."
"I don't think Jo's mad at her mom. I think she's just been hurt because her family doesn't understand what she does for a living."
"But that doesn't make sense. To listen to Mrs. McDaniels talk about Jo, she seems to be very proud of her."
"She may be now, but at one time, when Jo first joined the FBI, her family didn't approve. They wanted her to pursue a medical career, and then her father died and…well it's a long story and it really isn't our business."
"No, I guess not. I was just curious. I like Jo; she's a lot of fun to be around. I just think it's sad about her family is all."
He agreed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Saturday morning Jo took her run later than usual. She'd barely managed an hour of sleep after working most of the night on her profile. Midway through her run, she thought of dropping by the sheriff's office just to let them know she was still alive, but figured Austin was the only one who really cared and, it being Saturday, he was probably home, sleeping in, like most normal people did on their days off. It was just as well, she didn't want to appear overly eager.
Sick of junk food and bottled water, Jo treated herself to a leisurely breakfast of hotcakes, bacon, eggs and fresh hot coffee. She couldn't remember a breakfast ever tasting so good, and when the waitress reappeared to take her empty plates away and refill her cup of coffee, she felt as if she'd never be able to move again.
"You look like crap, McDaniels."
Jo glanced up in surprise to see Agent Isaac Washington. "What are you doing here?"
"I've come to drag your butt back to Quantico." He sat across from her in the booth. "According to the sheriff, when I talked to him on Tuesday, you've had a rough time of it."
"Nothing I can't handle. I told you that on the phone the last time we spoke."
"Well, I've seen you looking like this before so I know you're lying."
She tossed him a smile. Just his being here was proof of how worried he was. "I appreciate your concern Isaac, but I assure you—"
"Cut the pretense, Jo. I'm here as a friend not as your boss." When she offered no reply he continued. "You're in too deep, Jo. You need to back away from this one."
"I can't do that."
"Oh yes you can. You go back to your motel and pack, say goodbye to your family and we fly back together." He reached into his inner pocket. "I've already got your airline ticket." He laid it on the table.
As much as she loved him, she wished he weren't so protective over her. "I've been with the bureau for ten years, and during that time, I've never walked away from an assignment. I'm not about to start now."
"You know I could order you back, reassign you to another case?"
"You could, but you won't. You've been where I'm at. You know I can't walk away, even if I wanted to."
"You remember the last time you did this, the effect it had on you. You spent six months in therapy, and it almost cost you your career."
"It wasn't only the case that caused my breakdown. My father had just passed away."
He reached across the table and took her hand. "You're not only my best agent, Jo, you're a good friend. I don't want anything happening to you."
She smiled at him. He was right, they were friends, best friends. If it hadn't been for his daily visits when she was in the hospital, after her nervous breakdown, she wasn't sure if she'd ever have made it. And though he'd never admit it, she knew he was instrumental in assuring the bureau she was mentally competent to go back out in the field. His word and a battery of tests had given a piece of her life back. She was determined not to lose that. "Nothing's going to happen to me, Isaac, I'll be fine. I promise."
"You have to be the most stubborn woman I've ever met, and that includes my wife."
"I'm determined, not stubborn. I know my limitations now."
"You sure about that?"
She glanced down at their intertwined hands, gave his a gentle squeeze and slowly drew hers back. "You're going to worsen my reputation around here. It's usually the sheriff sitting where you are."
"Yeah, I kind of suspected there was something else keeping you here."
"Quit being so overly protective and be happy for me."
"Don't tell me you've gone and fallen in love with this guy."
"He's the first guy I've ever met that didn't run to the nearest exit when they learned what I do for a living, and who is comfortable with my gift," she said, side-stepping his question.
"I'm impressed, what is he, a saint?"
"No, he was a cop for seventeen years with L.A. County. He's probably seen as much crap as I have."
"I feel a transfer coming on and I don't like it."
"Relax. We've a long way to go before we start discussing long-term options."
"Well, that's some relief."
Jo finished her coffee and then met his gaze. "As much as I'm enjoying this bonding session, I really do have a lot of work to do." She glanced at the departure time on the ticket and saw he was scheduled to fly out this afternoon. "Have a safe flight and I'll call you over the weekend with a progress report."
"Take care of yourself, Jo. I don't want to have to make another trip out here."
"I will," she promised and left, sticking him with not only an unused plane ticket but her meal as well.
*****
Austin had just washed the breakfast dishes when Bailey came into the kitchen. "What are you going to do today?" She grabbed a towel and dried off a dish.
"I've got to go into the office for a while, why?"
"Just wondered if I needed to stick around and babysit you today," she teased.
"Keep it up and you can forget about that ski trip next weekend."
Like a pro, she had
chosen last night, when he was at his weakest, to ask if she could go with Jesse and her family on their ski trip.
"All right, I'm sorry. Well since you're going in to work, do you mind if Jesse and I go shopping?"
"Does this mean you want your allowance?"
"Or your credit card will work if you don't have any cash."
"Dream on." He reached into his billfold and took out two twenties and a ten. "Consider the extra an advance."
She squealed, giving him a hug. "I think I like you being in love. Speaking of which, you should give Jo a call."
"Go on, get out of here."
*****
Deputy Pendergrass was manning the phones when Austin arrived at the sheriff's office. Austin gave a brief greeting before he went on to his office. Settled behind his desk, he went over the reports filed from the day before, making notes on any corrections that needed to be made.
He'd barely made a dent in the small stack when Pendergrass stuck his head in the door, informing him there'd been a wreck with injury out in the county, and that the other deputies were tied up with other calls. "You want to take it or do you want me to?"
"You go, I'll cover the phones." Austin took his paper work with him out into the reception area.
Ten minutes later, Austin glanced up at the opening of the office door to see an African American man dressed in a dark suit and purple tie enter. He strolled directly up to the counter as Austin stood to greet him. Austin had a hunch he was a Fed by the arrogance in his stride and the suit he wore.
"Let me guess, Special Agent Washington?"
"You must be Sheriff Garrett?" His smile seemed genuine, yet guarded as he offered his hand. "You have a nice little town here, Sheriff."
"Thank you, we like to think so." Austin shook his hand. "This your first trip to Oregon?"
"In this area of the state."
Austin figured the guy had a reason for the visit. "If you're looking for Special Agent McDaniels, she's not here."
"I know. I met with her earlier. It appears you didn't keep your end of the bargain, Sheriff."
