Allison Brennan - Sudden Death

“That’s going another level in, and I need more time. I can’t get it without a formal request. I’m giving it to one of my best analysts and I’ll let you know if anything comes up, but it won’t be tonight.” And it probably wouldn’t be tomorrow. Or the next day. Unless orders came down from high up the food chain, the army wasn’t going to jump immediately. And Megan didn’t have enough juice to go all the way to the top.

“I have plenty to do. By the way, I spoke to Greg Abrahamson, the detective who was undercover downtown. He knew Price. Not by name, but when I mentioned the clean hands Abrahamson knew exactly who I was talking about. Said he was obsessive about keeping clean. Washed his hands constantly, was known to bathe in the river regularly. No sicko ritual there for the killer.”

“Thanks for checking.”

Megan hung up and called J.T. back, only to get his voice mail. She left the information she’d learned about the three victims. There was no way she could get their military records quickly through traditional bureaucratic routes. But she might be able to get the information through other, faster channels.

She feared that if she didn’t figure out the connection soon, another veteran would die. She’d do everything in her power to stop it.

Jack had checked the Cessna Caravan’s instruments and now inspected the weather report in the small open office inside the private hangar. The sun was quickly disappearing and Jack wanted to get back to Hidalgo tonight. His trip had been troublesome on many levels, though it was good to see Patrick awake.

He heard footsteps and looked up to see Dillon approach. “Ma wasn’t the only one upset you didn’t come by the house.”

His twin brother knew just how to twist the knife. Jack shrugged, continued to look at the weather report but didn’t see anything new. “I called.”

“What happened between you and Dad today?”

Jack had never told anyone what had happened between him and the Colonel, and didn’t plan to break that silence now.

“Dammit, Jack, I thought we were beyond this martyr crap.”

“Is that Doctor Kincaid speaking or my brother?”

“Take your pick.”

Jack assessed his brother. They weren’t identical- Dillon was fair-skinned like their father, his hair light brown, his eyes green. Dillon and Colonel Pat Kincaid had a lot in common. Honor. Rules. Society.

But it was Jack-the dark-haired, dark-skinned, dark-eyed son-who’d worshipped their dad for the first nineteen years of their lives. Dillon was the smart kid; Jack was the kid expelled for fighting. Dillon prided himself on straight A’s; Jack prided himself on pitching no-hitters. Dillon went to college on full scholarship; Jack enlisted in the army the day he graduated from high school.

Jack had wanted to be his dad.

Now he wanted to be anyone but.

“Take off your shrink hat, Dillon. I’m not open for inspection.”

“I’ve never tried.”

“Bullshit.”

“Shit, Jack, you make this so hard sometimes.”

“Don’t go touchy-feely on me.”

Dillon laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Every time we make headway, you pull out the fact that I’m a psychiatrist. I specialize in violent killers, not stubborn mercenaries.”

Jack leaned against the half wall of the office and gave his brother a wry smile. “How’s Kate?”

Dillon tensed. “If you think baiting me is going to work, you’re shit out of luck, Jack. And if you think I haven’t figured out what happened, you must think I’m an idiot.”

Jack picked up his overnight bag. He didn’t need Dillon’s lectures or disdain.

“I have friends at the hospital,” Dillon said quietly.

Jack didn’t say a word. His eyes closed. He didn’t want to explain.

“Tell me,” Dillon pushed.

“It’s none of your fucking business.”

“Is family so unimportant to you that you’re just going to turn your back on us again?”

Again. That stung.

“I never suspected that the reason you disappeared was because of Dad.”

“We all thought he was a saint,” Jack said, surprising himself. He took a deep breath and faced Dillon. He didn’t know what he was expecting-his father, a saint, or a shrink, but what he saw was his brother. The brother he once had. The brother he could have again if he wasn’t such a “stubborn mercenary.”

“He’s human. So are you.” Dillon caught his eye. “I think.”

Jack didn’t smile, but the tension dissipated. “Tell Ma-” He stopped. What should he say? That his father had disowned him? That her son may have been responsible for the deaths of an innocent family-or that her husband had been responsible? Could the family live with the fact that the Colonel had placed Jack’s career above the lives of civilians?

“I can’t go back, Dil. Not now.”

“What happened?” he asked quietly. “Jack, you and me. What happened?”

Jack shook his head. He had promised himself twenty years ago that he would never talk about his father’s betrayal with anyone, especially the family. Ma loved him, and Jack wouldn’t hurt her again for the world.

“Dad disowned me,” Jack said, staring straight ahead. “And that’s it.”

“Don’t leave it at that-”

“I realized tonight that twenty years isn’t long enough. I also realized that I shouldn’t have let him sever ties to my family. He thought that if he took away everyone I cared about, I would come back and tell him he was right and thank him for showing me the error of my ways and saving my career.” He grunted. “It’s clear now. I made a new family in the army and I didn’t need-I didn’t think I needed-you or Ma or anyone.”

Jack faced Dillon, jaw tight with restrained emotion. “You’re my brother. I-” He paused. “I want my family back. But I no longer have a father.”

“You don’t-”

“I do mean it, Dillon. He told me never to come home. No more. He no longer exists to me. He disowned me twenty years ago, but he still controlled me all this time. Now I’m free. And if you can’t accept it, that’s you.”

Dillon frowned. “You know this isn’t over.”

“Yes, it is.”

They stared at each other in silence for a long time. Dillon’s phone beeped. He read a text message. “Everyone is at Connor’s place. Come back with me. One night.”

The radio buzzed behind him.

“Kincaid, you’re cleared. The thunderstorms moved northeast.”

Jack stared at the radio. Dillon didn’t say another word. It was on Jack now. Did he want his family back? Could he turn his back again?

Could he live with himself if he did? Would they call him if they needed him, or would they disown him as well?

“5-A-Z-1-1-1-3-4, copy.”

Did he want to turn into Scout? He loved the man, but Scout had nothing outside of their team. No family. No wife. No kids. And while a wife and kids were out of the cards for Jack, he did have a family. Brothers and sisters, and maybe a few nieces and nephews down the road. Could he turn his back on the future?

Did he want to?

He picked up the microphone. “Thanks, but I have a change of plans. I won’t be leaving until oh seven hundred.”

“Roger, oh seven hundred. I’ll have the Cessna ready.”

Frank Cardenas was a priest.

Why hadn’t Karin known? She’d had his name and address, but they hadn’t scouted Hidalgo. It was a small Hispanic town, they were white and stood out. It had already been risky going to the bar to get the lay of the land, but she couldn’t send Ethan in there, with or without her. He’d become too unpredictable. It was better when she acted alone, when she was disguised.