Robin Burcell - Face of a Killer

He shook his head, laughed. “I think I’d know if that was the case.”

“Then who are those guys?”

“Other than your father… oh, and William, of course,” he said, pointing to McKnight. “Who knows about the other two… But if you’d like, I can take it, ask around next time I meet up with some of the guys at the VA.”

“That’s okay,” Sydney said, holding out her hand for the photo.

Donovan handed it over, almost reluctantly she thought, and then he smiled, looked at his watch. “I’ve really got to get going. I have a cocktail party back in the city I promised I’d attend.”

Sydney’s mother said, “It was so nice of you to stop by, Donovan.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He looked around for Angela, but she’d disappeared into the den to give Sarge another lesson on sign language, and so he shook hands with Carillo, and then Scotty. “Nice to meet both of you. If you ever need anything, just give me a call.”

And Scotty smiled broadly. “It was a real pleasure. Thanks.”

“Angie, honey,” Jake said. “Come say good-bye to Uncle Don.”

“Good-bye, Uncle Don!” she called out, not bothering to emerge for his departure. “Sit. Sarge! No!”

Donovan didn’t wait around to learn what dire emergency Sarge had created, but whatever it was, Angie resolved it by the time the cake was served. And yet no one but Angie seemed to be talking, as though the photo was some dreaded talisman that everyone knew existed, and no one could speak of. Sydney wanted to ask what the hell was up with it, but Scotty’s look quelled her to silence, and for once, she decided it might be best to follow his lead. A little after nine, Jake glanced up at the clock. “Time for bed, Angie.”

“But I need to finish training Sarge.”

“Sarge needs her rest,” he said, despite that Sarge was busy trying to get out of her box, and whining pitifully. “Say good night to our guests.”

“Dad…”

And Sydney, realizing she had a plane to catch in a couple of hours, said, “We have to get going anyway.”

“That’s right,” Carillo said, standing. “Big day tomorrow. Gotta go out and catch bad guys.”

Angie’s eyes lit up. “I am so gonna be one of you guys when I grow up.”

“You are so not,” Jake said. “Now kiss your sister and get in the bath.” Sarge gave a little yelp, and when Angie hesitated, her father crossed his arms. “Bath. I’ll get the dog.”

Angie gave Sydney a hug and a kiss. She moved to Scotty next, held out her hand and said, “Thank you for the money. I hope you can come over again.”

Scotty shook her hand. “I hope so, too. It’s always great to see you.”

And then, as she let go, she beamed a smile at Carillo. “I love my FBI shirt. I hope you can come over again, too.”

Carillo smiled back, ruffled her hair, and said, “Me too. Good night, Angie.”

Sydney gave her mother and Jake a hug, then followed the others out.

Scotty stopped at the curb, patting his pocket. “Left my keys inside. I’ll be right back.”

When he started toward the house, she grabbed his arm. “I hope you plan on explaining what you’re doing here.”

“Actually, that’s why I came over tonight. I just didn’t realize you, uh, weren’t going to be alone.” He glanced at Carillo.

“It was an unexpected invitation,” Carillo said. “From her sister.”

“Get to the point, Scotty.”

“Maybe I can give you a ride home? Tell you on the way?”

“Sure. Go get your keys.” Scotty returned to the house, and she faced Carillo. “I’m assuming you can find your way home from here?”

“Somehow I’ll manage.” Carillo opened up his car and took out something from the center console, a white envelope, which he handed to her. “In case I don’t see you again tonight. This is the contact information for a friend of mine who works in the Houston field office, Dr. Vincent Pettigrew.”

Sydney took the envelope, eyed it as though she had serious doubts. “I’d rather keep the number of people who know about this to a minimum.”

“This way you don’t have to rent a car. Less of a paper trail, and he’s just what you want. Like me, he doesn’t give a rat’s ass about being promoted. More importantly, unlike me, Vince is getting ready to retire any day. I told him to expect your call as soon as you touch down in Houston.”

“How much did you tell him?”

“The basics. Enough to know why you’re making the quick stop to the little town of Webster. You can trust him.”

“Okay.”

“Do me a favor, though? Make it look good in Webster, because if there’s one thing I hate, it’s sitting in front of someone from OPR, trying to explain things that, in their eyes, don’t have shit to do with what we’re supposed to be doing.”

The agents who worked OPR, Office of Professional Responsibility, were the internal affairs watchdogs of the Bureau, doing their best to make sure no one stepped out of line, and ready to quash them if they did. “I’ll make it look good. Promise. And thanks. I owe you.”

“No mush. I should’ve stated that up front.” He stood there, looked at her over the top of his car. “And don’t worry. Soon as I get home, I’m cracking open your father’s case. If you want to talk later

…”

She gave a sigh, looked back at the house, saw Scotty speaking to Jake inside. “I’ll try to call you. Let you know what’s going on.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, then got into the car, starting it up.

She shoved the envelope into her purse. A moment later, Scotty walked out, tossing his keys in his hand. He waved as Carillo drove off.

“So what’d you want to tell me?” she asked.

“How about we talk when we get to your place?”

“How about we talk now.”

“Syd, you have to trust me on this.”

Right. She got in his car. When they were well away from her mother’s house, she said, “You’re working a case on Senator Gnoble, aren’t you?”

“I really think we should talk about it when we get to your place.”

“You showed up to my little sister’s birthday working a case? My God, Scotty. How low can you sink?”

“A lot lower than that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I made a bad decision.” He glanced into his rearview mirror, then looked over at her. “I thought it was the right thing to do at the time, but-”

“But what?”

“… I was wrong.”

If Scotty was anything, he was meticulous. He planned out every move. Not only did he not like to make a mistake, he hated to admit it. And that had her worried. “About what?”

He said nothing, just kept eyeing the rear and side view mirrors.

“Just tell me, for God’s sake. Before I get out and walk home.” An empty threat, since they were now hurtling down the freeway.

He took a breath, both hands gripping the steering wheel. And then, in a voice so quiet she had to lean toward him to hear, he said, “We have reason to believe someone is trying to place a hit on you.”

Sydney stared for several seconds, certain she’d heard wrong. He looked over at her, then back to the road. “A hit? As in someone’s trying to kill me?”

“We’re taking all precautions.”

“Well, let me breathe a big sigh of relief.” Bastard. It took several seconds to cool off enough to even think clearly. Scotty’s sudden appearance at her mailbox, the way he seemed to caution her about how she came into possession of that photo, his surprise visit to her sister’s party… Her first instinct, a right hook to his chin, was not a good idea while he was driving. That could wait until after they’d parked. “How long have you known about this?”