Alex Kava - A Necessary Evil

"Is there something you need?" It was a deep voice, one Gibson thought he recognized.

"Uh, I just… I thought you were Monsignor O' Sullivan." Gibson knew it sounded stupid, but it fell out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"Monsignor O'Sullivan won't be returning," the man said and he started to close the door, but something furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes, something he saw just over Gibson's shoulder.

The guy had given him the major creeps. Gibson had spun, readjusting his backpack on his shoulder, and raced up the flight of stairs. He thought the guy had called to him, but he didn't stop. Just kept going, not looking back until he got to Sister Kate's room.

The guy hadn't followed him, but he still felt a little sick to his stomach.

He wouldn't think about it. He needed to focus on something, anything else. Now he tried to concentrate on the kids wandering in, the so-called qualifying students. He took a deep breath and sat back, waiting for the nausea to leave. He reminded himself how much he liked this room, how comfortable it felt. He watched the faces of the kids coming in and it actually made him feel better. He realized it might not be so tough to be one of the cool kids. These kids all looked like losers.

There were supposed to be a dozen of them, three girls and nine boys. Gibson had stolen a peek at the roster on Sister Kate's desk. He already knew that he was the only one from Our Lady of Sorrow. His mom had been thrilled, like it was some big honor. There was no talking her out of it even when she discovered there was a five-hundred-dollar tuition fee to cover their field trips. She shrugged and said she'd get Grandma McCutty to pay it. Gibson complained that the three weeks would totally ruin his summer, but he knew he had already lost the argument. He overheard his mom on the phone telling Grandma McCutty what a privilege it was for Gibson to make the program, if only she could contribute the thousand-dollar tuition fee, then Gibson wouldn't have to turn down such an honor. So there was the real reason his mom was so excited __ not that he had qualified. Not that he would get out of the house and do something all summer other than play computer games. No, it was just one more opportunity to scam Grandma McCutty.

"What do you suppose this is?" a small kid with freckles and reddish-blond hair asked.

Gibson hadn't even noticed the kid come up beside him. He was pointing to one of Gibson's favorites, not daring to touch what at first glance looked like some kind of primitive chalice.

"It's called a skullcup," Gibson told him and picked it up carefully, watching the kid's blue eyes widen as if Gibson had done something forbidden, but Gibson knew Sister Kate wouldn't mind. The items she left on the counters were to be handled, carefully, of course, and examined. He turned it over to show the new kid where the base adhered to the top of a human skull.

"In Tibet, priests use these for ceremonies and stuff. See, they cut a human skull in half and use the top for the cup part. They attach all this decorative crap." He pointed out the jewels and polished stones and his stomach hardly hurt anymore. "It's supposed to symbolize consuming the mind of the dead guy. Or something like that."

The kid was looking at him as if Gibson was not just cool but brilliant. Gibson pretended it was no big deal, yet he started thinking maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe it wouldn't ruin his summer after all.

Reagan National Airport

Washington, D.C.

Gwen Patterson snapped her cell phone shut and dropped it into her pocket.

"Still no answer?" Maggie asked as the two of them made their way through the Monday-morning travel crowd.

"Dena came in on Saturday, her day off, so I don't mind her coming in late today. I just wish she would have let me know."

"You don't have to stick around here with me if you need to get to the office. This place is a zoo today."

"I don't mind. How long will Harvey be okay in the car?"

"It's cool this morning. With the window cracked, he'll be fine."

They found a place to sit, not far from the security checkpoint. Maggie tucked and zipped her wallet in the side pocket of her carry-on, an oversize computer case. She stashed the airline ticket in her jacket pocket then began removing her watch and a bracelet, slipping them into another side pocket. She had already relinquished her firearm along with the side holster she wore under her jacket. All the necessary procedures of getting through security in order to fly the friendly skies.

Despite Gwen's calm exterior she felt her insides were screaming at her to tell Maggie she couldn't leave. Not now. She would be getting the results from Benny Hassert's lab sometime today. Then she could hand everything over to Maggie. But now Maggie would be hundreds of miles away in Nebraska. She wanted to tell her now. She didn't want to wait. Twice this morning she had come very close to mentioning the single gold earring he had left for her on Saturday morning. That, of course, would have opened the entire Pandora's box for her to confess about the notes, the map and the cell phone. But Maggie was leaving and Gwen needed a new plan.

"Bonzado seems to think the killer used a hatchet or machete," Maggie said out of the blue. Evidently the case still preoccupied her mind, too.

"How is the handsome professor?" she asked, perhaps overcompensating by changing the subject even though the case was exactly what she wanted and needed to hear about. Was it possible Rubin Nash had easy access to a hatchet or machete?

"He's fine."

She was pleased with Maggie's smile. She hadn't seen Maggie smile about a man since that Nebraska cowboy-turned-district attorney tripped her up. Too much chemistry and no substance was how Maggie explained the disappearance of Nick Morrelli from her life. But Adam Bonzado held some hope. He was certainly someone she could finally share her crazy career with as well as her obsession with evil. And Bonzado was someone who wouldn't flinch or run away from a woman who tracked killers for a living. Quite the contrary, it would be something that would intrigue him. Adam Bonzado also seemed like a man who knew exactly what he wanted and would be patient enough to wait until Maggie was ready. Gwen hadn't been convinced that Morrelli had any clue as to what he wanted, nor did he have such patience.

"He has a conference in the District next month," Maggie offered.

"Oh?"

"So maybe we'll get together for dinner."

"Good."

"Have you heard from Tully since he left for vacation?" Maggie asked, very matter-of-fact, as if it was the most natural progression of the conversation.

Gwen felt a sudden knot in her stomach. Had she opened a can of worms by asking Maggie about Bonzado? Now it was supposed to be her turn to share about Tully. Despite confiding in Maggie about her feelings for R. J. Tully, Gwen still wasn't sure she wanted those feelings validated or confirmed. Not just yet. Nor did she want to admit she had missed him.

"Couldn't Cunningham send Tully to Nebraska when he gets back?"

"Gwen?" Maggie laughed. "Tully's gone for another week. Besides, I thought you'd be anxious to see him."

"Of course, it'll be good to see him. That's not what I meant. It's just that I don't understand how Cunningham can send you out on another case when you only got started on the one here. And it sounds like you made some major progress yesterday."

"I faxed over my preliminary report to Cunningham this morning," Maggie said as she pulled out her watch to check the time, which Gwen knew meant that she needed to get in line for security soon.

"You were able to come up with a profile that quickly?"

"A preliminary one. When we know more about the victims I'll learn more about the killer. Racine and Stan have an ID on Jane Doe number three. That'll help."