Lisa Gardner - The killing hour

Nora Ray immediately appeared troubled. “You think I’m making them up.”

“No. I’m absolutely sure you dream of your sister. But some hold that dreams are the unconscious’s way of working things out. If you’re still dreaming of your sister, then maybe your unconscious has something to work out. Maybe your parents aren’t the only ones who aren’t over her yet.”

“I don’t like this conversation very much,” Nora Ray said.

Kimberly merely shrugged. Nora Ray narrowed her eyes.

“What are you? Some kind of shrink?”

“I’ve studied psychology, but I’m not a shrink.”

“So you’ve studied psychobabble and you’ve attended half of the FBI Academy. What does that make you?”

“Someone who also lost her sister. And her mother, too, for that matter.” Kimberly smiled crookedly in the failing light. “Trump. In the contest of who has gotten dumped on more by life, I believe I just won.”

Nora Ray had the good grace to appear ashamed. Her hand was back on the fern. Now she methodically picked off its fronds. “What happened?”

“Same old story. Bad man believes my father, an FBI profiler, ruined his life. Bad man decides to seek revenge by destroying my father’s family. Bad man targets my older sister first-she is troubled and has never been a great judge of character. He kills her and makes it look like an accident. Then he uses everything she has told him to befriend my mother. Except my mother is smarter than he thinks. In the end, there is nothing accidental about her death. The blood spray goes on for seven rooms. Finally, bad man goes after me. Except my father gets him first. And now I’ve spent the last six years much like you-trying to figure out how to go on merrily living a life that’s already been touched by too much death.”

“Is that why you joined the FBI? So you could help others?”

“No. I joined the FBI so I could be heavily armed, and also help others.”

Nora Ray nodded as if that made perfect sense. “And now you’re going to catch the man who killed my sister. That’s good. The FBI is lucky to have you.”

“The FBI doesn’t have me anymore.”

“But you said you were halfway through training…”

“I took a personal leave to pursue this case, Nora Ray. The FBI Academy is not fond of that sort of thing. I’m not sure I’ll ever be allowed back.”

“I don’t understand. You’re going after a killer, you’re trying to save people’s lives. What more can they want from an agent?”

“Objectivity, professionalism, a clear understanding of the big picture, and an ability to make tough decisions. When I left the Academy, I did it to help one life. Staying, on the other hand, and completing my training, would have given me the opportunity to save hundreds. My supervisors are tiresome at times, but they aren’t stupid.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“Because Betsy Radison looked just like my sister, Mandy.”

“Oh,” Nora Ray said quietly.

“Oh,” Kimberly agreed. She leaned her head back against the rough bark of the tree and sighed deeply. It felt better than she would’ve thought to say the words out loud. It felt good to finally confront the truth.

She had lied to Mac when she’d told him this wasn’t about her family. She had lied to her father when she had told him she could handle things. But mostly, she had lied to herself. Young, passionate Kimberly, fighting valiantly for the underdog in a jurisdiction-mad case gone wrong. It sounded so good, but in fact, her decision to help Mac had had nothing to do with Betsy Radison, or the Eco-Killer or even her supervisor Mark Watson. All along, it had been about herself. Six years of grieving and growing and telling herself she was doing just fine, and all it had taken was one victim who looked slightly like Mandy for her to throw it all away. Her career, her dreams, her future. She hadn’t even put up much of a fight.

Betsy Radison had died, and Kimberly had run back to the heavy burden of her past as if it were the ultimate comfort food. Why not? As long as she kept obsessing about her family’s death, she’d never have to face the future. As long as she kept dwelling on her mother and Mandy, she would never have to define Kimberly. She had wondered what her life would’ve been like if her mother and sister had never died. In truth, her life could still be about whatever she wanted it to be. If she was that strong. If she was that smart. Maybe she could even fall in love. You never knew.

“What happens now?” Nora Ray asked softly.

“Short-term now, or long-term now?”

“Short-term now.”

“Ray and the team from the USGS figure out the clues left with this victim. Then we try to find the fourth girl. And then we try to find the Eco-Killer and light up his ass.”

Nora Ray nodded with satisfaction. “And long-term now?”

“Long-term now, you and I finally realize that none of it has made a difference. Your sister is still dead, my family is still gone, and we still have to get on with the rest of our lives. So we start seriously wading through the grief and seriously wading through the guilt and see if we can’t make something out of this mess. Or we do nothing at all, and let a couple of killers take what little we have left.”

“I don’t like long-term now very much,” Nora Ray said.

“I know,” Kimberly said. “I’m a little worried about it myself.”

Lee County, Virginia

8:53 P . M .

Temperature: 96 degrees

THE BATS CAME OUT. In the inky hues of fading daylight, they glided gracefully among the trees, dive-bombing clusters of fireflies and scattering the flickering lights. The humidity was still unbearable, but with the sun low in the sky and the bats feasting silently overhead, dusk took on a peaceful, almost soothing feel.

When Kimberly was younger, she and her sister had loved to catch fireflies. They would run around their back lawn with Mason jars, trying desperately to capture the shooting darts of lights. Mandy had been horrible at it, but Kimberly had gotten pretty good. They’d sit around the patio table, trying to feed the fireflies stalks of fresh-cut grass or tender stems of dandelions. Then they’d let the flies go again; their mother didn’t allow bugs in the house.

Now Kimberly sat in the circle they had formed around a Coleman lantern, her knee brushing Mac’s, while Rainie and Quincy talked of contacting the local coroner. Ennunzio and Nora Ray sat across from Kimberly. Ray and his team remained off to one side, still working the body.

“We’ve done the best we can,” Quincy was saying. “Now we need to notify the official case team.”

“It’ll only piss them off,” Mac said.

“Why? Because we’ve moved the body, destroyed chain of custody for the evidence, and made the crime scene perfectly useless for basic investigative procedures?” Quincy regarded the younger man drolly. “Yes, I’m sure they will have a few thoughts on the subject.”

“Saving a life always takes priority over preserving a scene,” Mac insisted stubbornly.

“I’m not questioning what we did,” Quincy said. “I’m simply trying to bring us back to reality. We found the body, we brought in professionals to analyze the clues, and now we need to start thinking about what should happen next. I certainly hope none of you is suggesting that we return the body to the cavern. Or worse, leave it unattended.”

Everyone shifted uncomfortably. Quincy was right; none of them had thought that far ahead.

“You contact the official case team, and we’ll spend the rest of the night in jail,” Kimberly pointed out. “Which pretty much defeats the purpose of coming here in the first place.”