Allison Brennan - Sudden Death

Why- how -had Karin gotten involved with Barry Rosemont? Megan didn’t want to believe that Karin had been in any way involved with killing the soldiers, but there was no doubt in her mind that she was capable of such violence. Karin had shot Megan in the back and gotten away with it.

Her excuse had been stress. Her mother had committed suicide three weeks before and Karin hadn’t told anyone. She had been embarrassed and angry and depressed. The shrinks all agreed that Karin was suffering from acute depression. OPR removed her from duty because of “reckless disregard for human life and proper procedures” but with extenuating circumstances. As long as she went to counseling for a year, she wouldn’t be prosecuted for manslaughter and attempted man slaughter in shooting an unarmed suspect and her partner in the back.

“It was an accident,” Karin sobbed at the hearing. “I saw the suspect going for Agent Elliott’s gun. I thought I did. It happened so fast, and I reacted.” She looked across the room at her still-recovering partner. “I am so sorry. Megan, I am so sorry. I love you like a sister, you know that.”

But Megan had been immune to Karin’s pleas and lies. It had taken three years, but in that time Megan learned that Karin was a pathological liar and a murderer.

OPR didn’t believe her.

“Agent Elliott, you are justifiably enraged by what happened and this panel is taking this situation and your accusations seriously. But in light of Agent Standler’s mother’s suicide, we can’t help but consider the extraneous circumstances that impaired Agent Standler’s judgment.”

Procedures and changes were made to prevent situations like this in the future. More counseling, more feelgood measures to make sure that the agents didn’t have external pressures that could lead to “reckless disregard for human life.”

It was all bullshit, Megan thought. Then and now. Karin was a sociopath, only now she was far more dangerous. Megan dialed Hans. She hoped that Jack had received the sketch from Texas as well and that Hans was already jumping on tracking down Karin Standler.

Officer Dodge said, “They’re sending a patrol with a gas can. I feel like an idiot.”

“It happens to the best of us,” Megan said lightly. She was irritated only because she wanted to jump on Karin’s trail.

“I’m going to stretch my legs. If you want to-”

“I’m fine here, thanks,” Megan said. They were on a narrow turnout on the Pacific Coast Highway. Five feet away from Megan’s door was a cliff and a short guardrail. Megan wasn’t scared of heights, but she’d just as soon stay in the car. She also didn’t want to admit that she was nervous about Karin. Her ex-partner still scared her. Ironically, it was because of Karin’s lies that Megan herself had learned to discern truth and fiction from suspects and witnesses, one of the reasons Megan had ended up being so good at her job.

Officer Dodge stepped out, stretched. Traffic had improved. “Once we get gas, forty minutes, tops,” she told Megan before walking down the shoulder.

Hans picked up. “Meg, I was just trying to call you.”

“It’s Karin Standler.”

“I know-you got the sketch from Father Cardenas, then.”

“Yes, but I also found a witness in Orlando who says that Karin had been dating Ken Russo for months and left just prior to his murder. Russo had Price’s tags, but the police didn’t find them after the homicide.”

“I screwed up, Meg. I didn’t consider that the contact the killers made with you was personal. I assumed it was to taunt the police. I’m sorry.”

“How could we have known about her? No one has heard from her in years. Last I knew, she was a physical therapist somewhere. Did you get my text message about Ken Russo?”

“Yes, and Rick Stockton is sending four agents to the community to interview everyone who saw her, starting with Paula Andrews. Good work, Meg.”

“Don’t pat me on the back. Karin’s at large and we need to find her ASAP. I don’t have to tell you she’s extremely dangerous.”

“Are you okay?” Hans asked.

“Yes. But I’ll be better when she’s behind bars.”

“I’ve already sent out an APB and her picture is going out to law enforcement.”

“You need to do a picture with shorter, blond hair. The witness said she dyed it.”

Movement behind the car caught Megan’s eye. She turned and the driver’s door opened.

The woman wore black jeans and a black T-shirt. Her short streaky blond hair looked like she’d cut it herself. But her wild blue eyes and the smug hatred on the woman’s face told Megan that nothing had changed. Karin Standler was still a sick, twisted sociopath.

She had a gun in her hand.

Megan dropped her BlackBerry and reached for her gun, but it happened too fast.

Karin pressed the trigger. Megan expected to die, but there was no gunshot, only a faint pop. Her left shoulder stung. Her head felt thick and her gun fell from her hand. She reached for something that protruded from her shoulder and the last thing she heard was Karin laughing while Hans shouted from far away, “Meg? Megan! Megan!”

Thirty minutes later Jack stared at the empty police car on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway. He pushed aside the quiet sobs of Officer Barbara Dodge who had been shot with a tranquilizer that had left her disoriented and ill. He ignored Hans Vigo and Detective Holden and a dozen cops walking around the area, looking for evidence-clues-as to where Karin Standler had taken Megan. He avoided looking at the plastic bag that held the tranq dart that had most likely been in Megan’s body, or the bag with her phone and her gun.

He focused on being the soldier he was. Not the man still grieving for a friend who’d been cruelly murdered. Not the man worried about a hostage. Not the man falling in love with a woman who may not even be alive.

She’s not dead. That bitch doesn’t want to kill her easy.

Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath to push away the image of Megan tied to a chair, screaming in pain as she was being tortured with a thousand needles.

Megan’s strong. She’ll survive. She has to survive until I find her.

“Vigo!” Jack shouted. They weren’t doing anything. Not even planning their next move.

Hans approached. “We’re doing everything we can to find her. We have roadblocks-”

“We were too late with the roadblocks. Standler had ten minutes before we even knew where the damn car was!”

“We have aerial sweeps, until it gets too dark.”

Which was imminent.

“We have to find her fast.” Jack didn’t want Megan to suffer one needle of pain. He’d gladly take the torture to spare her.

“Dammit, Jack, I know that! Everyone at Quantico is working on this. We’re looking into Karin’s bank records, credit cards, property she may own, vehicles, everything.”

“The woman likely has cash and fake I.D.,” Jack said. “And a car that isn’t registered to her.”

“What do you want me to do? Give up?”

“Think like a killer.”

“I knew Karin. I was her boss. I didn’t recognize her for what she was.”

“Beat yourself up about it later. I need Megan’s phone.”

“Why?”

“She has friends who don’t always play by your rules.”

“We’re doing everything-”

“Give me her phone. What was that name again? J.T.?”

“Caruso.”

“Right. Rogan-Caruso.”

After Hans nodded his ascent, Jack ran over and snatched Megan’s phone from the evidence bag. He quickly found J. T. Caruso’s number and called it.

“Hi, Meg, I saw the news and-”

“This is Jack Kincaid. Is this J. T. Caruso?”