Mariah Stewart - Acts of Mercy

“Why would he do that?” Coutinho wondered aloud. “You’d think it wouldn’t matter at that point.”

“At his trial, he swore that breaking into our home was just a lark. He just wanted to tweak my nose a bit. And of course, his wife swore he was with her the night Carly was murdered.”

“Do you think she was in on the killing?”

“They both said no. Holland swore he acted alone and that she had no idea he was involved in such things.”

“You don’t sound convinced of her innocence.”

“Every year, on the anniversary of Carly’s death, I get a card from her. How does it feel to know your wife’s killer has gotten away with murder for -then she fills in the number of years. Then she signs it. Love, Laurie Heiss.”

“What’s the point in that?”

“I guess she wants to make sure I remember the date.”

Coutinho looked at Sam across the console. “Like there’s a chance you’re going to forget.”

“Yeah. Like there’s a chance.”

Sam sat on the edge of the bed in his hotel room and leaned forward to untie his shoes, when his phone rang. He got up and retrieved it from the pocket of his jacket, slung over the back of a chair.

“Sam, it’s Chris Coutinho. I just got off the phone with Tom Reid, the detective who met with the FBI agent who was asking about the Walker case. He found the agent’s card.”

“Great. Who was it?”

“Fiona Summers.”

Inwardly, Sam groaned. “Thanks, Chris.”

“You want the number?”

“I know how to find her, thanks.”

“Keep in touch, right?”

“You got it. And thanks again for taking me around yesterday.”

“Don’t mention it. You can return the favor if I ever get to… what’s the name of that town you’re in?”

“Conroy, Pennsylvania. About as big as it sounds. Trust me, it won’t be a long tour.”

The detective chuckled and hung up, and Sam immediately dialed another number. When the call was answered, Sam said, “Will, tell me that Fiona Summers is not as big a pain in the ass as everyone says she is.”

“Fiona Summers is not as big a pain in the ass as everyone says she is,” Will Fletcher, one of Sam’s friends who was still with the FBI, repeated solemnly. He paused, then asked, “Who says she’s a pain in the ass?”

“Everyone I know who’s ever worked with her.”

“Sam, are you back in the fold now? You’ve finished racing around the globe and you’re back home, with the good guys, where you belong?”

“I’m back in the States and I’ve had enough traveling to last me a long, long time. I’ll tell you about it sometime. But I’m not back with the Bureau.”

“Damn. For a moment I thought… but then why ask about Fiona?”

Sam explained his new job and Fiona’s potential involvement with his case.

“She won’t be a problem,” Will assured him. “She just runs a tight ship, that’s all.”

“That’s the nicest thing I’ve ever heard anyone say about her.”

“She can’t be that bad. Miranda’s worked with her and likes her. Want me to ask her?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay, hold on. Give me a minute to find her.”

Sam heard Will’s footsteps echoing off into the distance, then some muffled conversation, before a light and teasing voice picked up an extension.

“Is this the Sam DelVecchio? The tall, dark, and, well, you know…”

“Ah, the ever lovely Miranda.” Sam smiled. He’d always liked and respected his former fellow agent. “How are the wedding plans coming along?”

“They’re coming along. Of course, the wedding is going to be quite the extravaganza, between Will’s huge family and my father and all of his many families. Imagine the clash of cultures. But of course, we’ll deal with them all with our usual grace and humor.”

“I’m sure you will.” Sam laughed, knowing both family histories: Will was one of nine children born into a very conservative family in Maine, and Miranda’s father was an aging British rock star known for his many marriages and offspring.

“So what’s this Will is telling me about you jumping ship for good and going off to work for some private detective agency?”

“All true. It was time for a change,” he said simply.

“Do what you have to do, buddy,” she replied. “But we do miss you. The new guy isn’t as good as you were. Nor is he as much fun, either.” Miranda paused, then added, “At least, that’s what the other ladies are saying…”

Sam laughed again. “Speaking of the other ladies…”

“Right. Fiona Summers. Will said you might have a problem with her?”

“No, I don’t have a problem. At least, not yet. I’m working my first case for the Foundation, and it appears she’s been making inquiries about it, picked it up from one of the databases. I’m thinking she must have something she thinks could be related, or at least something similar enough for her to have taken notice.”

“So?”

“So I was just wondering how much they say about her is true, that’s all. I figured I’d call you guys, because between the two of you, you’ve worked with just about everyone.”

“Sad but true. Tell me what you’ve heard about Fiona.”

“I heard she always thinks she’s right and that she’s a pain in the ass.”

“Well, the part about her being right most of the time is probably true,” Miranda said. “She has uncanny instincts and is not afraid of following them. And when she thinks she’s right, it’s pretty hard to dissuade her. But does that make her a pain in the ass? I suppose it does, if you’re the type who also believes you’re always right. But, wait… that would mean one of you would be wrong. And when it comes to Fiona, it’s usually the other person who’s off base. I’d say her batting average is unusually high.”

“Will said you’ve worked with her.”

“Many cases over many years. And yes, I do think she’s that good, and no, I didn’t think she was a pain in the ass. But then again, I don’t always think I’m right.”

“That helps.”

“Fiona is a very self-assured woman, Sam. She knows her stuff and she takes her job very, very seriously. It’s probably the most important thing in her life.” She paused, as if thinking. “Actually, I believe it is the most important thing in her life.”

“I’d heard that, too.”

“Anything else?”

“That she’s great to look at but has no sense of humor.”

“Not true. Well, she is great to look at, but the humor thing? Definitely not true. She just doesn’t joke around on the job like some of the yahoos do.”

“Are you calling me a yahoo?” Sam pretended to sound wounded.

“Does the shoe fit?”

“I guess sometimes it does.” Sam had to admit to his own share of gallows humor from time to time. “Thanks, Miranda. I appreciate your insights.”

“So when are you going to invite us over to watch the home movies you took while you were on vacation?”

“You’re welcome anytime. Of course, for at least the next six weeks, home for me is going to be in a hotel in a little town in Pennsylvania, but if you feel like making the drive, I’ll provide the entertainment.”

“We’ll see if we can fit in a road trip,” she told him. A moment later, she asked, “Sam, how are you doing?”

“I’m doing a lot better. I think getting away for a while was the right thing to do. Just like I think staying away is probably good for me, too.”

“I understand.” Miranda sighed. “Just know that you can always come back, if you need to. Or want to. Your friends love and miss you. We’re always here for you.”