Allison Brennan: Love me to death

Sean was at the bottom of the stairs waiting for her. He looked tired, but other than a few bruises, he was as good as new.

She kissed him and smiled. He ran a hand through her hair and kissed her again, long and soft, holding her close.

“Is everyone here?”

He nodded.

She tilted her head. “Are you okay?”

He pushed back the collar of her shirt and frowned at the cut from Miller’s whip. She reached up to hide the bright red welt, but Sean took her hand into his and kissed it. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “No. Don’t-”

“I should have gone to the church with you. I should never have left you alone.”

Lucy touched his face. “We didn’t know. You couldn’t have known. We all thought Mick Mallory killed Cody.”

Her words didn’t ease his guilt, though she didn’t blame him, or anyone, except Peter Miller.

“I spoke with Carolyn this morning,” she said.

“She’s talking now?”

“Not a lot. I talked more with her mother, who flew in from Pennsylvania to be with her. They’re releasing her from the hospital tomorrow. She has a lot of things to work through, but Dillon’s helping to find her the right counselor, and as I told her, she survived. She won because she lived, and Peter Miller died. I don’t know if it helped, but it gets me through the day.”

Sean kissed her again.

Kate cleared her throat from the hall. “Can I get you both in here? Noah has to head back to headquarters to brief the Assistant U.S. Attorney, and we’re all hungry.”

Lucy and Sean followed Kate to the kitchen, where everyone involved in the case was serving up a buffet that Dillon had brought in from Lucy’s favorite restaurant. Abigail, Noah, Hans-they were all there. Noah’s right hand had been burned and was wrapped in bandages.

Once everyone was seated, Dillon prayed a simple grace. They ate in silence, then Lucy asked Noah, “I need to know what happened out there at the farm. How many?”

She didn’t need to elaborate.

“They found the remains of twelve women,” Noah said. “Seven from just the last six months. The others were from before his incarceration.” He sipped water.

They ate in silence awhile longer, then Noah said, “The U.S. Attorney is going to negotiate a plea agreement with Mallory and Buckley.”

Lucy closed her eyes. Sean sought her hand under the table. “I expected that.”

“That’s what my meeting is about this afternoon. We’re keeping this all under wraps. I don’t have to tell you what would happen if the public got wind that two former FBI agents were vigilante killers.”

“Half the people would support them, the other half would vilify the Bureau,” Lucy said. “I understand.”

Kate said, “But Mallory won’t be getting out of prison, ever.”

Noah said, “They’re still working through the details, but they’re talking about giving Buckley fifteen-to-life and Mallory life without parole. Mallory has been forthcoming, but it took what happened with Miller to get Buckley to tell her lawyer she wanted to cut a deal.”

“What about why those parolees were targeted?” Kate asked.

Noah and Hans exchanged a glance. Hans said carefully, “Some questions are better left unanswered.”

They suspected, Lucy realized, but maybe couldn’t prove it. Or didn’t want to.

“Don’t over-think it,” Noah said. “There is no definitive proof, and neither Buckley or Mallory have added anything to their statements.”

“What happens to WCF?” Lucy asked. “We did good work-”

“They’re shutting it down. They have to,” Noah added. “But Hans is going to make sure the work you were doing-minus the parolee project-will continue.”

She turned to Hans. “You are?”

“I have friends at a similar organization based in Texas. Our field office down there has worked extensively with them, and they’re under the radar. As soon as we get the okay from the Justice Department, all WCF files will be sent to them.”

“Thank you,” Lucy said, though the information was bittersweet.

“There’s one more thing,” Noah said. “I asked Mallory where the box of Adam Scott’s souvenirs was. He wasn’t very forthcoming, but he gave us the key to the safe deposit box. There was one request he had, and I agreed to it, provided you agree.”

Dillon said, “He has no right to ask Lucy for anything.”

“He doesn’t, but-well, essentially, he asked if you would retrieve it and decide whether the families should have the items back.”

Her fork slipped from her fingers. “Why?”

Hans said, “He said he never wanted to hurt anyone, and if seeing the items would hurt the families, you would know.”

Lucy didn’t know how the survivors would react. Some would want the items returned, others wouldn’t.

Noah said, “The jewelry was recovered in the course of a federal investigation, and the rule of the Bureau is to return all personal items not necessary for trial to the victims’ families. But identifying which item belongs to which family could prove difficult.”

Lucy knew that wasn’t completely true. Most families would know what personal effects were missing when the body was found. But Noah was giving her an out.

Everyone was looking at her.

“Lucy, you don’t have to do anything, even make a decision, right now,” Sean said quietly.

“I’d like to see the box before I decide.”

Noah drove Lucy to the bank right after lunch. “I hope I’m not making you late,” she said.

He shook his head. “I won’t be too late.”

They were parked behind the bank. The sky was still gray, the day still cold. Some days, Lucy thought that winter would never end. She longed for San Diego and the beaches and warm Januarys.

“Thank you,” she said.

He looked surprised. “For what? It’s only a slight detour.”

“For last week. Saving my life, Sean’s life-”

He held up his hand. “Don’t. I know what you did. You put that woman, Carolyn, ahead of yourself. I wanted to talk to you about that.” He pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to her.

She frowned and took it. The return address was FBI national headquarters, but there was no stamp. “Do you want me to open this?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly nervous, she unsealed the envelope and pulled out a single piece of paper.

Dear Ms. Kincaid:

The Federal Bureau of Investigation hiring panel has reviewed your application and assessed your written test. Your score on the written test was in the top 1 percent of applicants also taking the test in your group. Test scores alone do not guarantee that an applicant will continue in the hiring process. The Bureau considers a wide range of information to assess each applicant, including but not limited to preliminary background checks, test scores, education, and special skills.

You have been selected by the hiring panel to participate in a personal interview, the next step in the application process. The granting of a personal interview does not guarantee that an applicant will be offered a job in the FBI, nor is the interview the last step of the application process.

Your interview date is scheduled at:

FBI National Headquarters

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

10:30 a.m.

Most interviews take forty-five minutes to one hour, but please allot extra time. A questionnaire is being sent to your residence, signature required. The questionnaire must be returned at least seven days before your scheduled interview.

Congratulations!

Lucy read the letter twice. “How-I don’t understand. Why do you have this?”

“I asked Kate where you were in the application process, and she told me you were waiting for the interview, but didn’t want to ask for favors from her or Hans. That didn’t include me. All I did was make a couple of calls and find out where your letter was. You earned this, Lucy. I didn’t get you the interview. All I did was bump you to the top.”