Gail Barrett - Tough Justice - Twisted

How could she have been so blind?

Lara covered her face, filled with loathing and self-disgust. “I didn’t want to believe it. Even then I was trying to make excuses, to justify what he’d done.”

“Your reaction was perfectly normal. You loved him. You’d formed a set of beliefs about him. When a view like that gets altered that drastically, it takes time for it to sink in. And denial is a typical first response.”

She’d denied it, all right. The truth was simply too horrific to accept. “I couldn’t believe how thoroughly he’d conned me, how effortlessly he’d lied.” That all this time, he’d been putting on an act, hiding his identity and true nature from everyone—especially her. Then again, she had been doing the same thing to him.

“So what did you do?” Dr. Oliviero asked, his voice gentle now.

“I knew I had to act fast, to get out of the warehouse before he spotted me. And I had to get word to my boss that I’d found Moretti. So I left right away.” She’d been terrified that he would see her, that he’d discover that she’d learned the truth. But she’d managed to escape undetected and get the information to her handler.

“I’d heard him arrange a meeting with his top commanders for later that night. We knew it would be our best chance to take him down, so we scrambled to make the bust. We had surprise on our side, but we didn’t have much time. And we knew if we didn’t catch him, we might never have another chance.”

“Were you the one who arrested him?”

“No, I stayed away. I couldn’t afford to blow my cover in case something went wrong and I had to resurrect my part. My boss took him down instead.” It had been a major coup. They’d captured all the syndicate’s major players, along with various, low-level operatives—not to mention Moretti himself.

“How did you feel during all this?” the psychiatrist asked.

“Numb. Honestly, I didn’t feel anything.” She’d gone into zombie mode—writing reports, attending meetings, analyzing the data and mopping up all the loose ends.

“And later?”

“I collapsed.” Physically, mentally, emotionally. She’d gone to ground in her apartment, overwhelmed by the horror of what she’d done. Hating Moretti. Despising herself. Unable to believe how foolish she’d been. Afraid there was something wrong inside her, really wrong, that maybe she’d secretly sensed the truth—and hadn’t cared.

“I went over everything he’d said, every moment we’d spent together, trying to figure out what I’d missed. How I could have possibly been so clueless.”

“And what did you decide?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I missed anything. I think Moretti was just that good.”

That elicited a nod. “He’s a sociopath. He doesn’t have a conscience. He doesn’t care how people feel. That makes it easy for him to lie. But you do have a conscience. That isn’t a flaw, Lara; it’s a normal, healthy thing. That’s how you discern right from wrong.”

“It didn’t stop me from having an affair with a criminal.” And not just an ordinary criminal, either. The boss of a major syndicate. A man who was evil incarnate.

“All of us make mistakes,” Dr. Oliviero reminded her.

“I know.” And she’d paid for hers. In the past year, she’d been through hell and back. She’d been emotionally beaten and battered, her confidence shattered. But she’d come out stronger. And wiser. Definitely more cynical. And far less trusting, especially when it came to men.

She’d suffered in other ways, too. But she was not going to talk about those. There were some things so private that even Dr. Oliviero didn’t need to know.

“I thought it was finally over,” she continued. “I thought I could move past it and get on with my life. That’s why I took this job with the Crisis Management Unit. It was something new, something I knew I’d be good at. I was ready to begin again.”

“But it’s not over.”

“No. Moretti is fighting back. He wants to destroy me now. And he won’t stop until he wins.”

“Or you beat him once and for all.” Dr. Oliviero leaned toward her, his expression intent. “You’re going to do it, Lara. You’ve got the skills, and you will succeed this time. I have no doubts about that.”

“It sure doesn’t feel that way.”

“That’s because you’ve let him shake your confidence and get inside your head. You just need to remember that you can succeed, that you’ve done it before. Take those skills you’ve learned and apply them.”

“I’ll try.” She rose and shook his hand. “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate the impromptu session.”

“Stop by whenever you like. I’m always here for you. But Lara...” he added just as she turned to go. “Even after you stop him, this won’t be over completely. Not until you take one last step.”

She cocked her head. “Which is?”

“You’ll have to forgive yourself.”

“That might be harder,” she admitted.

And downright impossible if anything happened to the baby.

* * *

Lara was still struggling to follow the psychiatrist’s advice an hour later as she sat at her cubicle, poring over her notes on the Moretti case. She couldn’t let Moretti spook her. She had to have confidence that she could beat him at his game. She’d learned a lot during her time undercover and was so much smarter than before.

But even Dr. Oliviero’s pep talk wasn’t helping her solve this case. She kept combing over the evidence, and nothing made any sense. She felt lost in a labyrinth, unable to find the exit, knowing she was overlooking something vital that would point the way. She finally tossed down her pen, her frustration veering into despair.

What was she missing here? How were these events related, aside from their apparent connection to her? Or was she trying too hard to link them all? Maybe someone else was involved in this case besides Moretti—but if so, who?

Just then, Victoria poked her head over the wall of her cubicle. “Lara,” she said softly so no one would overhear. “I’ve got news.”

Lara’s heart lost its beat. She held her breath, both eager and afraid to hear what she had to say. “What is it?”

Her boss cracked a smile. “The baby and her family are fine.”

Lara slumped back in her chair and released her breath, the tension that had kept her up all night escaping in a crazy rush. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” Victoria stepped into her doorway. “It turns out there was some sort of glitch with the phone lines last night, and the service shut down. I just got a new number from the marshal. I’ll forward it to you.”

Lara struggled to take it in. The family was safe. She closed her eyes, more relieved than she could express.

“Still...that note he sent. I know what you’ve done. He must be talking about that family. And remember the photos I got of the safe house? The one with the bull’s-eye on the baby’s face?” Not to mention the charm the kidnapper sent—all indications that someone knew about that child. “And the timing of this—the phone going out at the same time Cass was stabbed. Do you think—”

“That Moretti had someone mess with the lines?”

“Yes.” It would fit his MO perfectly—to draw out the torture, heightening her fear and anxiety to a fever pitch, and then finishing her off with his Grand Finale.

“I wondered the same thing,” Victoria acknowledged. “I’ve got people checking that out.”

“Maybe we should move the family again. If they’ve been compromised...”

“I’d rather not do that until we’re sure.”

“But—”

“Lara, we can’t keep moving them around. The constant upheaval isn’t good for them. They need to start leading a normal life. I want to make sure it’s necessary before we make them leave.”