Josh Lanyon - The Mermaid Murders

Kennedy turned. His eyes glittered in the glare of the high beams. “You’re not walking away from this, that’s for sure.”

It was much later before Jason had a chance to speak to Kennedy on his own. Chief Gervase had been whisked away to Boston for surgery, and Rexford was crawling with state troopers while most of the deeply shocked and grieving members of Kingsfield PD looked on.

“You can head back to the motel now. In fact, you should head out for L.A. tomorrow,” Kennedy told Jason. “Assuming you can get the okay from SAC Manning. I’ll finish wrapping things up here.”

“You want me to leave?” Jason could have blushed after the startled words left his mouth. He just meant…well, actually he did kind of mean it the way it sounded.

Is that it?

Of course that was it. There wasn’t enough of a case left to require two special agents, especially when one of them was on loan from another and greatly understaffed unit. And as for the rest of it…

I follow the catch-and-release rule. By exigency and by inclination.

“You’re in a big hurry to get back to L.A. Correct?” Kennedy’s appraisal was as cool and direct as the day they’d met.

“Right. Yes.”

Kennedy nodded and turned away.

“I would have fired,” Jason said to his back.

Kennedy turned to face him, regarding Jason steadily, bleakly.

“Thank you for what you did earlier, but it wasn’t necessary.”

Kennedy said, “West, the only reason you’re not dead is because he didn’t want to kill you.” He sounded as tired as Gervase had at the end.

“That’s not—” Jason stopped. “I would have fired. I was squeezing the trigger.”

“You didn’t fire. You didn’t shoot. He let off five rounds. You didn’t return fire once.”

“I thought I could talk him down. I was talking him down.”

Kennedy closed his eyes as though in pain.

“You can think what you want. I didn’t freeze. I would have fired if I hadn’t had another choice.”

Kennedy started to answer, then stopped. He said finally, “You’re too smart not to understand the potential consequences—for everyone—of being wrong about this. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Their gazes remained locked. Jason nodded.

Kennedy didn’t believe him, but Jason was telling the truth. He had been about to fire. For him, the nadir had been during those minutes when he had been frozen with fear in that cellar doorway. He had hit rock bottom, but he had come back from it. In fact, there was a kind of comfort in knowing no bullet could ever hurt like the pain he had faced in that basement.

“What about Kyser?” he asked.

Kennedy frowned. “What about him? He’s not part of this case. If he wants to behave like a freak, that’s his business.”

Right. It wasn’t against the law to be a very weird guy.

“Okay. Well, I guess that’s it.”

Kennedy nodded and once more turned his back to walk away.

What the hell. You only lived once.

“How often do you get to L.A.?” Jason called.

Kennedy stopped. Turned. He looked at Jason. Impassive and cool. Shook his head. “No.”

For the record. All purpose and all encompassing. In answer to any question you could ever ask…

No .

Not even a polite and face-saving sorry to say, not that often .

Nope. Just a flat and businesslike no .

Police line. Do not cross .

“Right. Well, nice working with you.” It was kind of amazing Jason got the words out so calmly, given the way his throat closed like a vise on that final you .

This time it was Jason who turned away.

* * * * *

By the time he made it back to the motel, Jason was angry.

Also sick with disappointment and hurt.

Which made no sense whatsoever.

He had understood the terms of engagement.

He himself was not looking for a relationship, let alone a long-distance relationship with someone as difficult and unpredictable as Sam Kennedy.

His emotional reaction to Kennedy’s curt goodbye was…embarrassing, frankly.

Thank God he had managed to hide it. Probably not well enough. And he could have kicked himself for that hopeful, tentative How often do you get to L.A. ?

Jason swore and threw the last of his clothes in his suitcase.

What he was feeling was probably something akin to leaving summer camp. You bonded with people through adversity, and sometimes it was hard to say goodbye. That was all.

And that was normal. This had been a tough case for him. He’d had to work through a few things. So it was natural to confuse his feelings about the situation with his feelings for Kennedy.

His brief conversation with SAC Manning did not improve his mood.

Manning was erm bitterly disappointed at the way things had worked out in Kingsfield. He could not come up with a reason for insisting Jason stay on, but it was clear it killed him to give up without a fight.

“Agent West, do you feel that perhaps, erm, something Kennedy did during that previous investigation might have ultimately, erm, triggered—”

“No, sir. I really don’t.”

Jason had stuck to that line, and eventually Manning had to accept defeat.

“Your cooperation and diligence have been, erm, duly noted, Agent West.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He was in bed, not sleeping, when he heard Kennedy’s footsteps on the landing. Jason glanced at the clock. Two thirty in the morning. It would be light soon. He would be leaving for the airport soon.

Heart thumping, he listened to that firm tread approach…and then pass his door.

No pause. No hesitation.

He scrunched the pillow over his hot face. What had he thought? That Kennedy was going to change his mind when he remembered all those great times they’d spent together?

Jesus. Christ. Get over it .

He closed his eyes. A second later his eyes popped open again—like his eyelids were broken.

He was too tired to sleep. That was the truth. He was wired. He ought to just head out now.

Yes, actually, that was a good idea.

Why was he wasting time lying here when he could be on his way back to Boston? That would save him from the awkward possibility of running into Kennedy in the morning.

He sat up, snapped on the light, and then sat on the edge of his bed, wondering at the wave of depression he felt at the idea of never seeing Senior Special Agent Sam Kennedy again.

Really, Jason? Coz you couldn’t stand the guy five days ago. And now you’re getting choked up because you’ll never again have to put up with that perfumy aftershave and his insistence on always driving everywhere?

There came a soft knock at the door.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Jason rose, hauled on his jeans, and went to the door. He peered out the keyhole.

Kennedy was frowning at the landing.

Jason slid the safety chain, turned the deadbolt, opened the door.

Kennedy transferred the frown to Jason.

“I saw your light was on.”

Jason frowned back. “I’ve got an early flight.”

“Right. Look.” Kennedy drew a breath. “I’m not good at goodbyes. But I enjoyed working with you too, Agent West.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s all.”

Jason nodded curtly.

Kennedy turned away.

Jason very, very gently closed the door. He leaned his forehead against its glossy enameled surface.

He listened for Kennedy’s retreating footsteps.

Nothing.

More nothing.

He raised his head.

Was Kennedy still standing outside his door?

Knock. Knock. Knock .

Jason wrenched open the door. “Back so soon?” he asked tersely.