Allison Brennan - Stalked

“She sensationalized tragedy. Seemed to relish it.”

“It was full of melodrama. Tony said it was accurate, but it’s how she told the story that made it dramatic. I should turn over the file to Suzanne.”

“What file?”

“Tony’s personal notes. Did you learn anything more about Peter McMahon?”

“I haven’t found him yet, which is unusual.”

“Because you’re so good?”

“Exactly.” He kissed her. “Since I last talked to you, I learned that after his grandmother died he registered for school in Newark and lived with his mother for a year, then ran away. There’s a sealed juvenile record on him. I found him again in Seattle, where his father lives, and a record that he received a GED under the name Peter McMahon Gray.”

“Social Services sent him back to his mother?” Lucy frowned.

“What don’t I know?”

“I read Tony’s case notes. His parents were swingers. That means-”

“I know what a swinger is. And I read the book. Peter filed for emancipation when he was sixteen and got it. Moved back to Jersey, where he went to a community college and got his GED. He was accepted into Syracuse for the second semester, right before he turned seventeen.”

“Driven. Determined to do something with his life.” Lucy took a deep breath. “His childhood ended when he was nine. Did he graduate college?”

“No. Disappeared two years later. I might be able to find out more, but not quickly-unless I hack into the Syracuse files. I promised I wouldn’t.”

“Did you check obituaries?”

“In New York and New Jersey. No Peter McMahon, no Peter Gray, and no John Doe of his description reported deceased the year he went off the grid.”

“Maybe he just wanted to start over,” she said quietly.

“Or to seek revenge.”

“Tony didn’t make any indication that he thought the McMahon boy was responsible for what happened to Rosemary Weber.”

“You’re the psychologist, Luce. What would that kind of upbringing do to a kid?”

Anything. But that didn’t mean he’d grown into a killer.

But it didn’t mean he hadn’t.

“I wish Tony were here.”

“What about Hans? Kate said he was coming here to clear out Tony’s files and work with Suzanne.”

“I didn’t know.”

“It’s seven in the morning. I’m sure you’ll hear about it.” He paused, then asked, “Did you ever want to change your name and start over?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because changing my name wouldn’t have erased the memories.” She stood and said, “We’d better get to the cafeteria. I don’t want to be late for class.”

Lucy walked Sean to his car forty minutes later, after they’d eaten breakfast with her friends. “They’re a good group,” Sean said.

“I think so.”

“I feel better about you being here.”

“Sean, you’re not going to go all over-protective on me, are you?”

He wrapped his arms around her, dipped her, and gave her a deep kiss. She laughed. “Sean!”

He put her on her feet but held her against him as he leaned on his Mustang. “I’m glad you made some friends, that this isn’t all work all the time.” He tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear. “You take everything so seriously, but you fell in with a group of people who have fun.”

“They take it seriously, but they turn it off better than I do. In fact, they’re more like you than me. Maybe that’s why I like hanging out with them.”

“I found out something about Laughlin. I’ll dig deeper if you want.”

Lucy’s breakfast sandwich felt like a lead ball deep in the pit of her stomach. “What?”

“He and Kate have known each other for a long time.”

“I thought they might have had a past.” Why hadn’t Kate told her?

“He overlapped with Kate in the D.C. field office for six months-the six months before her partner was killed and she disappeared to Mexico.”

“The D.C. field office is one of the largest. Just because they were in the same office doesn’t mean they would have known each other.” But that would explain the animosity. Laughlin was here only for New Agent Class 12–14. It was a temporary assignment, so it may have been the first time he’d seen Kate in more than a decade. “Were they on the same squad?”

“No-he’s always been in white-collar crimes. Kate’s always been in violent crimes, until taking the cybercrimes slot here, right?”

Lucy nodded. “But Kate’s boyfriend back then was an SSA in the public corruption squad.” Lucy bit her lip, a sign that she was nervous or thinking.

“Do you think it’s a coincidence?” Sean asked in a tone that told her he didn’t believe it was.

Lucy hedged as she processed the information. “Did you see anything in Laughlin’s past about Evan Standler?”

He shook his head. “Kate’s boyfriend?”

“Adam Scott set up an ambush and killed him.” It was clear Sean hadn’t known. “It’s not something Kate and I talk about. She told me once, right after I moved to D.C., but never mentioned it again.”

“Why would Laughlin have an issue with you? Or Kate?”

“A lot of people blamed Kate for what happened, until she was able to clear her name. But by that time, it might be hard to forgive, and maybe he didn’t believe her. It’s one reason she was assigned here.” Lucy was going to have to talk to her sister-in-law; she saw no way around it. “When did Laughlin leave D.C.?”

“Five years ago, when he transferred to Detroit. As much as I hate to ask him for a favor, maybe we should talk to Noah,” Sean said.

Lucy kissed his hand. Sean didn’t like Special Agent Noah Armstrong, they’d butted heads more times than she could count, and she appreciated that he was willing to put that aside to get her the answers she wanted.

“I don’t know that we have to go that far. Laughlin wants me to screw up. If I do, it’s my fault, not his.”

“Unless he cheats. Does more than just give you the evil eye.”

Lucy kissed him again. “Thank you.”

“Aw, shucks, ma’am,” Sean teased.

She rested her head on his chest and for a moment, just a moment, considered asking for the day off. Her emotions were still in turmoil. But she was already being closely observed; she didn’t want to make any more waves.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

“I’m holding you to that.”

Georgetown, Washington, D.C.

Patrick walked into Sean’s office Friday morning. “Where’s Lucy?”

Sean glanced at him oddly. “Quantico. Is she supposed to be someplace else?”

“I thought you’d convince her to come back with you.”

“I didn’t ask, and she wouldn’t have taken the day off, anyway. I’m picking her up tomorrow at noon and teaching her how to drive.”

“She knows how to drive.”

Sean laughed and put his e-reader down. He was nearly done with Weber’s books-he’d been reading half the night and since he’d gotten back home this morning, highlighting important information to discuss with Lucy or verify. The writer certainly hadn’t made any friends with the way she portrayed cops, victims, and predators. Essentially, everyone was guilty of something.

“Lucy has a license, but when was the last time you drove with her?”

Patrick hesitated. “Point taken. You know why she doesn’t like to drive, right?”

“There’s a specific reason?”

“She’s never talked about it, but when she was five we were in a serious car accident.”

“You were driving?”

Patrick sat down and sipped his coffee. “Dad was. I was fifteen, Carina sixteen. It was a severe storm one Sunday-clear when we left for church, total downpour within the hour. The car in front of us slammed on its brakes. Dad’s a good driver. He maneuvered out of the way, but the car on the right slammed on their brakes and hydroplaned right into us and we rolled. We were all knocked out, a couple of broken bones, but we were okay. Three people died in the collision-a twelve-car pileup. Anyway, that’s my guess why Lucy hates to drive.”