Steven James - The Knight

I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t a bad habit, that her blunt honesty was one of the things I liked about her, but just ended up saying, “Never apologize for telling the truth. It suits you.” And then, “Good night, Cheyenne.”

“Good night,” she said, and then I gave her a light, friendly hug, but that was all.

And as I turned and walked back to the car I heard the condo’s door swing open and then click softly shut behind me.

Back at home, I wanted to get to bed, but Tessa only left me alone long enough for me to get my toothbrush in my mouth before she knocked on my bedroom door, walked in, caught me in mid-brush in the adjoining bath. “Why didn’t you kiss her good night?”

I spit out the toothpaste. “That’s none of your business.”

“She’s nice. I like her. I think you should’ve-”

“All right, that’s it.” I set down the toothbrush. “What are you trying to do?”

“Just saying you should have kissed her.”

“No, I mean all night.” I grabbed a cup of water. Rinsed out my mouth. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“You made dinner for me. You’ve been playing matchmaker. You even complimented my book. Something must be seriously-”

“Can’t I just be nice once in a while without you getting on my case for it?”

“I’m not getting on your case. I just don’t understand.”

She slung a hand to her hip. “What? Maybe you’d prefer I cop an attitude instead?”

“Well…”

“How about a little obstinacy? Would that be better? Or despondency, maybe? Is that what you’d like?”

“Look, it’s just that you haven’t seemed like yourself tonight, that’s all. Usually, you’re more quiet and introverted and sort of just annoyed at life in general, and not so…”

“Not so what?”

“Aberrantly cheerful.”

“Well, that’s easy enough to fix,” she said.

“Tessa, please.” I tried to think of anything that might have happened earlier in the day to cause all this. “Is it leaving for the summer? Is it something to do with that?”

She was silent.

“The shoe box?”

No reply.

What else?

Oh yes.

“Your mom’s diary. Is that it? Is that what this is all about?”

The look of pain that swept over her face came so swiftly and suddenly that the whole mood of the room changed in an instant.

“I was just trying to…” she began, but didn’t finish.

The diary must have been more important to her than I ever would have guessed.

“I loved her, you know? More than anything else in the world.” Her voice had become something small and fragile. A little girl’s voice.

“Come here.”

I took her in my arms, and she leaned against me in a way that made my heart break. And as she did, I thought of Christie, the woman both Tessa and I had loved so much, and of the promise she’d asked me to make regarding the diary.

But now, considering how troubled Tessa had become, I couldn’t imagine that Christie would want me to keep it from her for five more months.

“Hey, listen.” I backed up and gently held her shoulders. I saw that she hadn’t actually started to cry, but she was a girl experienced at hiding her pain. “I’ll give it to you, OK? Tomorrow. I’ll give you the diary in the morning.”

“What?” She looked at me with a mixture of hope and skepticism. “Really? No, you won’t.”

“Yes. I think your mom would understand. I’m sure she never meant for this to be such a big deal, for it to upset you like this.”

Tessa looked past me into my bedroom. “So where is it?”

“It’s not here.” I let go of her hands. “I’ll have to get it tomorrow. It’s at my office at the federal building.”

“Can’t you just-”

“Tomorrow. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

“You’re not just saying this as some kind of manipulative parenting thing to-”

“No. I’ll give it to you.”

She studied my face for a moment and then said softly, “Thank you, Patrick. I seriously mean it.”

“I love you, Raven,” I said.

She smiled at me then, a soft, unforced smile. “I love you too.”

And for a moment, just a moment, the dead bodies in Colorado and the trial in Illinois faded from my mind, and life seemed in sync with the way things should be. Tessa and I were on the same page, and I felt like I was able to give her a pngt, a chance to connect with her mother in a way she’d never been able to before.

But almost immediately, I realized that reading Christie’s diary would undoubtedly bring back Tessa’s feelings of grief and loss all over again, might open old wounds, possibly make her even lonelier than ever.

I tried not to think of those things, and instead I just told myself that this was the right thing, the loving thing to do.

Then Tessa left for her room, but I noticed that the feeling of peace I’d had only a moment earlier had evaporated even before she stepped out the door.

45 minutes later

I couldn’t sleep.

In addition to my questions about giving Tessa the diary, my thoughts had returned to the ranch where we’d found Thomas Bennett and almost caught the killer.

Almost.

But we hadn’t.

I tried to put everything out of my mind, but I couldn’t seem to relax, and eventually I gave up and grabbed my laptop, propped some pillows behind my back, and surfed to the online case files.

Read them for twenty minutes.

Didn’t get sleepy.

Didn’t notice anything new.

I checked my email and found, amid fifty-nine junk mails and four internal FBI memos, three messages that caught my attention-one from Kurt, one from Ralph, and one from United Airlines telling me it was time to check in for my 4:04 p.m. flight to Chicago tomorrow.

Oh yes. The trial.

Another thing to think about.

But not at the moment.

I read Ralph’s email first.

Hey,

Why aren’t you answering your cell? I hate typing.

Nothing much here. Officer Fohay’s clean, tho. Prints didn’t match and he had no prior association with Sikora.

Calvin hasn’t left his house all day.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Don’t waste my time. Just answer your phone.

– R

So, nothing earth-shattering. It would have made things a lot easier if Fohay had been the one who’d loaded the gun; but things aren’t usually that simple.

I replied to Ralph, explaining that my phone was dead and that if he needed to get in touch with me to just use my landline or call Tessa’s cell.

It surprised me a little that Calvin hadn’t left his house. After all, he didn’t believe in retirement, worked weekends, and only took Wednesdays off. He’d told me on Friday that he was going to wait and see what happened next. I wondered if maybe something had.

So I emailed him as well, to see if he could pick me up at the airport tomorrow evening to give me a ride to my hotel.

Then I scrolled to Kurt’s message:

Pat,

I’ve attached the video file of the footage you took inside the house. A couple other things:

We found Elwin Daniels’s body in a shallow grave near the house. Preliminary time of death looks like eighteen to twenty-one days ago.

No DNA or prints yet, but animal control verified that one of the aquariums contained toads, not snakes-Colorado River toads. Based on the size of the tank and the amount of droppings it looks like our guy had about ten or twelve of them. Problem is, their skin contains 5-MeO-DMT and bufotenin-psychedelic drugs, but when ingested in concentrated doses… you get the idea. Looks like John is getting ready for story number seven.

Nothing yet on any missing priests, but Missing Persons is still looking into it. See you tomorrow. We’ll have a briefing at 1:00, sixth floor conference room. Get some rest.