Mariah Stewart: Last Look

“So where’s the problem? You had an arrest and a conviction…” Andrew stopped and thought for a moment, then said, “Let me guess. There’s DNA evidence to prove his innocence and he’s getting out.”

“No, and there will be no getting out for him,” John told him. “He was executed back in ’91.”

“So what’s the deal?”

“The deal is, we just got word that a body found in Georgia has been positively identified as Shannon Randall’s.”

“The vic whose body was never found?”

“Right.”

“So great, case closed.”

“Not quite,” John said. “The body had only been dead for maybe eight hours.”

“What?” Andrew frowned. “How can that be?”

“That’s what we’re sending you down there to find out.”

Andrew hesitated, then said, “John, if this is true, if this is Shannon Randall, this could become a high-profile case.”

“Not could,” John corrected him calmly. “Will.”

“So, don’t you think you’d rather assign someone else?”

“If I wanted to assign someone else, I’d have called someone else,” John said coolly.

“This could be national news.”

“Say it, Andy. Say it once, and get it over with.”

“Look, I’m just back from leave.” He wanted to keep going, but the words stuck in throat.

“I know that. Go on.”

“You’re going to make me say it?”

“Damn right I am.” John sounded angry.

“I’m just saying, a Shields may not be the best man for the job. After everything that happened last year-”

“I will tell you this one more time, and if I ever have to say it again, I’ll fire your ass on the spot. I never want to have this conversation with you again, understand?” Without waiting for a response, John said, “You are not your brother. Many families have a black sheep. Brendan was yours. He betrayed everyone who loved him. His family. His friends. The Bureau. But-and this is the important part, so listen good-you are not Brendan. You are not responsible for what he did, and you are not expected to pay for his sins. If anyone in the Bureau thinks otherwise, I want to know who, because I will personally straighten out his or her ass. Are we clear on that?”

“Yes, sir,” Andrew said quietly.

“You’re a damn fine agent, Andy. I have full confidence in you. This case is going to blow up in our faces unless we get to the bottom of it real fast. It’s most likely going to blow up anyway. We had a hot-shot agent pushing for the death penalty and a jury that was happy to give it to him. The Randall family was well-known and highly respected in town, and the family of Eric Beale was not. Dad and mom reportedly were drunks, dad had been arrested for beating up the wife and kids on more than one occasion. Older brother served time for assault. The kid who went to jail had apparently had a run-in with the nephew of the police chief’s wife the week before.”

“So back then, it almost didn’t matter if he was guilty or not.”

“Well, that was then, this is now. It matters. I want to know the truth. I want to know what happened to this girl, and how.” John paused, then added, “Did I mention that Shannon had apparently been making her living as a prostitute all these years?”

“Ah, no. I think you left that part out.” Andrew swung his legs over the side of the bed. “They’re sure it’s her? They’re positive?”

“Positive.”

“Shit.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“So when do I leave?”

“This morning. I want you there before noon. I don’t know how long before the press gets wind of this, so you’re going to have to move fast. Go over the original file with a fine-tooth comb and find out what went wrong. Figure out where this girl’s been all these years, and why no one knew she was still alive. And then, after you’ve done all that-”

“I’m going to have to solve the case,” Andrew finished the sentence. “Who killed Shannon Randall, and why.”

“You’re pretty good at this, you know.”

“Hey, I’m a special agent with the FBI. You can’t put much over on me.” Andrew smiled. “By the way, who’s working with me on this?”

“No one. You’re on your own. It’s a sensitive case, and I expect you to treat it as such.”

“I will.”

“Stop in and pick up the file on your way to the airport. I’ll have everything copied and ready for you.”

“I’ll be there within the hour.” Andrew stood, ready to hang up.

“Oh. There’s one more thing,” John said.

“What’s that?”

“You’re going to have company.”

“You just said you weren’t assigning anyone else,” Andrew reminded him.

“I’m not.” John paused. “I mentioned Matt Ranieri…”

“You have to be kidding.” Andrew laughed out loud. “You couldn’t possibly let him in on this.”

“Of course not. You will, however, be joined by his daughter.”

“His…John, that’s almost as bad.”

“His daughter. Dorsey Collins, you hear of her?”

“The name sounds familiar. She’s with the Bureau?”

“She’s been working out of the Florida office for the past six years or so. She’s good, she’s smart, she’s tough, and she’s honest. She can’t be officially connected with the case, I don’t want her name showing up on so much as one damned scrap of paper, but she can shadow you.”

“If anyone figures out who she is…”

“Then she’s out of there in the blink of an eye. But I don’t know how anyone would know. She has a different last name and she’s never exploited the relationship with her father. I heard from Decker that even after her divorce, she kept her married name so as to not ride Matt’s coattails. I don’t think more than a handful of people at the Bureau know she’s his kid.”

Andrew sat silent.

“Look, from what I hear, she’s going to want in on the investigation. I figure she can work with us, or she can go off on her own and end up working against us. I’d rather have her right there where we can see her.”

“May I say something?” Andrew asked.

“Of course.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea, John. I know you’re the boss and it’s your decision, but I have to go on record and say I don’t think this is good.”

“Objection noted. Just trust me on this. Decker says she’s good, Andy. I wouldn’t saddle you with anyone who isn’t. And she’s going to have to play by my rules if she wants to be allowed to play at all. I don’t think she’ll be a problem. If she is, she’s gone.”

“So when can I expect her to show up?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken with her yet.”

“Not at all?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know she’s going to want in?”

“Because I know her reputation. And I know Matt. I spoke with Steven Decker last night. He’s already told her about the situation. I don’t expect it will be much longer before I hear from her. I’ll have her call you.”

“You think you have everyone figured out, don’t you?” Andrew said, only half kidding.

“That’s why I’m the boss of the best of the best.” Andrew could hear the humor in John’s voice.

“John, the boy who was executed…if this is really Randall, and it sounds like it is, someone’s going to have to talk to his parents before word gets out to the press.”

“That’s my problem. I have someone trying to locate them as we speak,” John told him. “Now, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be expecting you by 6:30.”

The line went dead, and Andrew folded his phone shut.

He was well aware of the gift he was being offered, but didn’t know quite how to express his thanks. His family had a proud history in the service of the FBI almost since its formation. His father and uncle had served, three cousins, both his brothers, his only sister. Theirs had been a respected name for decades, their collective record impressive. And in one moment, as long as it had taken for a high-powered rifle to be fired, their name, their reputation, had been destroyed.