Sal saw her coming as she walked down the path. He broke off from his huddle with Dakota and came to meet her, pulling her to him for a hug. “How’s your head?”
“How is Dakota?”
“Well now,” the woman herself said. “I didn’t know you cared, Sanchez.”
Allyson would have shot her a look, but that would involve throwing up because of the pain. Probably wouldn’t have quite the same impact. “What happened?”
Sal turned her to face him. She didn’t like the look on his face, but she knew what it meant. Allyson said, “Vanessa is dead?”
Then she saw the woman lying on the ground.
Dakota said, “Rifle shot. A single bullet caught her between her bicep and her heart, far enough she took a minute to bleed out on the grass instead of dying instantly. Josh headed out to look for the shooter.”
She didn’t take her gaze from Sal’s the entire time his teammate spoke.
Sal said, “I’m sorry.”
Dakota shifted into the edge of Allyson’s field of vision. “She was a traitor, right?”
Allyson twisted in Sal’s hold and faced her. “She also had valuable intel.” Something Dakota would understand they should have safeguarded. Allyson exhaled out a long breath. “I think I need to sit down.”
Sal led her to the back porch and a dusty patio chair. Ally sank into it.
“You need an ambulance.”
She wanted to shake her head but didn’t. “Evidence collection. Paperwork.” Her mouth opened involuntarily, and she covered an eye-watering, jaw-popping yawn with her hand. She might be exhausted, but she doubted she’d be able to get any sleep at all.
Every inch of her body felt like it had been pounded into oblivion.
A car pulled up. Josh strode around the house and said, “Looks like feds.”
She looked at Sal. “As in, the ones who showed up at the hospital?”
He shook his head. “These better be different because those ones worked for Kennowich.” When she just stared at him, he said, “One of them was the man I followed here to find you.”
Two men strode around the house. Shiny shoes, nice ties, and dark gray suits. Badges were flashed. They both had the same hairstyle. Probably had the same brand of phone as well. “We’re here because a federal agent was kidnapped. ATF Special Agent Daulton called us.”
“That would be me.” Allyson raised her hand. “The one that was kidnapped.” She gave them her name.
One made notes into her phone as she explained it all. When she paused to think through the last part, what happened since the moment they’d run from the house, Sal cut her off. “She needs to be seen by a doctor. If you’re done taking her statement, we’re going to leave.”
“We need to speak with each of you,” the one closer to him said.
“We’re happy to give a statement.” Josh’s arm was still around Dakota.
The FBI agent didn’t seem super hyped at that idea. “Fine.”
“We should search the house for evidence as well.” Although, thinking about it now, Allyson wasn’t sure she wanted to go in there.
Which probably meant she absolutely should go in there. Therapy. The chance to face her fears, and maybe find some evidence Vanessa had left behind.
Like that flash drive in her pocket.
Allyson got up and walked toward her dead former friend’s body.
Sal crouched beside her. “Hey—”
Allyson waved him off, then dug in Vanessa’s pocket.
“Is that evidence?” One of the FBI agents leaned over to see.
“If it is—” Sal helped her stand. “—then it belongs to the Northwest Counter-Terrorism Task Force.”
Both FBI agents’ hands flexed. Toward their guns.
What on earth?
“Allyson and I are leaving now.”
The dog growled at the two men she didn’t know. Sal led Allyson away from the group and around to a car parked down the street. He held the door and she got in. Slowly.
When he got around to his side, she had her eyes shut.
“Okay?”
She didn’t open her eyes. “I could use Ibuprofen.”
“I meant about Vanessa.”
“Am I supposed to grieve over someone who betrayed me multiple times? Because my head really hurts.”
“I figure you’ll end up grieving over the loss of the friendship you should have had, or could have had, more than the death of that woman.”
“It’s nice that you’re trying to help. But my head really hurts.”
What she wanted to do was push everything away and get back to work. Sal squeezed her hand. She heard the brakes as he stopped at an intersection. When she opened her eyes, she saw him facing her, twisted in his seat. He touched her face.
“Sweet and everything, but you know, it doesn’t mean as much. Because I know you’re only being affectionate to me because Josh and Dakota aren’t around right now to see.”
. . .
For the second time in as many days, Sal paced the hallway outside a hospital room. This time it was Allyson being seen to, while her friend lay dead on the forest floor. He’d found the closest medical center in a small town about fifteen minutes from the house. Allyson had been poked and scanned. Now she was getting the split in her scalp glued shut.
The doctor knew what he was doing, even if this was a small town, but it still seemed odd to use glue.
You’re avoiding the issue.
It was almost Dakota’s voice in his head, but that wasn’t exactly right. He couldn’t remember when she’d said that to him, but it was what popped in there. A nudge from the Holy Spirit.
He’d screwed up. She thought the only reason he’d been sweet to her in the car—or tried to be at least—was because Josh and Dakota hadn’t been able to see? Was that what she’d thought about his kiss on the mountain?
He’d been so overcome that she was okay. Walking, talking. Not slurring her words. That she could actually escape a concussion despite everything was just astounding.
There was time to fix this. For him to explain to her how he really felt, and that he hadn’t even thought of Josh or Dakota either time. In fact, when he looked at her…it was like...like there was no one else there at all. He only saw her.
Sal’s phone rang. He pulled it out. “Alvarez.”
“It’s Weber.”
He found the nearest chair so he could lean his head back against the wall while Josh gave him whatever update there was to know. “Hit me.”
“You sound exhausted.”
Sal huffed out a laugh. “Because it’s true.” He’d been going full throttle all night looking for Allyson.
“We got a couple of cell phones. One from our dead guy, Peter Tines. The other was left in the house.”
“You think Talia will be able to get anything off them?”
“Whether she can or not, we’ll know soon. She’s already on it.”
“Good.”
“How is Agent Sanchez?”
Why did that question have a tone? Sal stared at the baseboard between the wallpaper and the linoleum floor. “Getting looked at. He’s going to glue her head back together.”
“Yep.” Josh sounded like he was laughing. “The vet did that to Neema last time she got cut. It’s good, Sal.”
He made a face Josh wasn’t ever going to see.
“You should ask her out.”
Sal said nothing.
“Her friend just died, and she found out she’s been betrayed. She needs the distraction. You can cheer her up.”
“I don’t even know where to start.” Sal crossed one leg and put his boot on the opposite knee. “There are so many problems with that—too many to point out.”
Josh actually laughed. “Stop thinking about it and just do it. You’ve slow-played this thing long enough. It’s time to act.”
“And the fact that Dakota and Victoria, not to mention everyone else, hates her?”
“They don’t.” The humo
r dissipated from his voice. “You know how you’re always hauling them out of trouble and helping them with problems? They’re just as protective of you. In fact, I’d put money down on the fact they are scared thinking they might lose you. They reacted badly and boxed themselves into a position. And they’re women, so it’s not like admitting they are wrong actually comes easily.”
Sal had always thought it didn’t come easy to anyone, no matter the gender.
They both said nothing. He was quiet for so long, thinking it over, that Josh finally broke the silence. “Thank you for agreeing to give Dakota away. She was worried you’d think it was dumb.”
“Sure.” There was a weight to the word, one neither of them missed.
“Dakota is processing the friend’s body.”
“Pretty sure you can stop calling her that,” he said. “Vanessa wasn’t Allyson’s friend when she died, and I doubt she has been for years.” Maybe even never. “The woman was seriously messed up. I’d have liked to know if she had some kind of Stockholm syndrome, or what.”
“Or if Kennowich had leverage over her.”
Sal nodded, even though Josh couldn’t see him. “Could be that he had some, given she was in love with Peter Tines.”
“What I don’t get is how he got away with it. I mean, you can’t just go around kidnapping interns and keeping them for years. What’s that about?”
Sal said, “It’s like she was happy to follow him everywhere like some lost puppy, or someone who’d been brainwashed. She stayed under the radar for years and let everyone in her life believe she was dead.”
Josh was quiet for a second then said, “Huh. Kind of sounds like a gang initiation. Like she did something for him, and he hid her as a gesture of thanks. Or a bargain. Either way he had information on her that could be used against her. Somehow he persuaded her it was all necessary.”
Sal shook his head. “All I know is the whole thing sounds bizarre.” And Allyson was caught in the middle of it. He hated that she’d been so tugged around, here and there, through the entire ordeal. He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Any luck finding the shooter?”
Josh would be motivated since his fiancé had nearly been killed. The man said, “No, but there’s a truck still here in the driveway.”
“Pickup with a gun rack?”
“That’s the one. When you saw it, was the gun rack empty?”
“No, it was not,” Sal said. “The gun was there before—did he use it to shoot Vanessa? Was he aiming at Dakota?”
“She says no. One shot, clean kill on the not-friend.”
“And the other shot fired?”
“Her saying, ‘hi’ back.”
Sal worked his mouth side to side. “The truck belonged to the man I tied to the tree. So the other guy from the house could have let him go. Or he heard Dakota coming and hid. Either could have been the shooter. Lucky break he got, taking out Vanessa.”
“Maybe.”
Sal said, “I’ll take a look at the mug shots we showed Vanessa. See if I can figure out who it is.” That was how they would have to track the shooter. And likely that was the key to this case.
Sal told him about the other vehicle that had been in the drive.
“I’ll get Talia on the lookout for the truck since it’s gone. If it was at the house, then one, or both, might have taken it when they left.”
“Okay.”
“So do we believe Vanessa, that there is some kind of threat about to play out?”
“If Kennowich is up to something, we need a way to find out what it is.” Sal usually tried to color within the lines of legality, but he wasn’t opposed to stretching those limits if he had to. Especially if it saved lives. But how could they find out what they needed to know?
“Could be on that flash drive Allyson pulled out of her fr—that woman’s pocket.”
“If there’s even anything on there.”
“Wow, you’re in a mood this afternoon.”
Sal huffed into the phone. It beeped in his ear. “I’m getting another call.” Before Josh could answer, he hung up. “Alvarez.”
“It’s Daulton. Did you get her back?”
“Yes, sir. She’s with a doctor right now getting patched up.”
“Copy that.” Sal heard a rustling. “I’m sending you an address. Get over here as soon as she’s done.”
Sal opened his mouth to object, not really sure what he was going to say.
Daulton had already hung up.
The text came through seconds later.
FFL Robbery #3. All hands on deck.
Underneath was the address.
The door opened a second later, and she peeked her head out. “Did Daulton text you?”
“Yep.”
“Good.” She strode from the hospital room with her shoes in one hand. “Let’s go.”
Behind her, the doctor stood holding a needle.
She breezed past him. “Time to leave.”
Chapter 16
Her head hurt, but she hadn’t let the doctor give her that shot. Like she wanted to admit to him that she was freaked out by needles? Better to leave. And she would add extra money in Daulton’s office birthday card this year for his amazing timing.
Allyson buckled her seatbelt like she didn’t hear the audible rumble of her stomach.
Sal glanced over. He looked as wrung out as she felt. “You need food?”
He probably just wanted a quick win. An easy problem of hers that he was able to fix. “Sure.” She shot him a wry smile. “Along with three ibuprofen, a shower and about eighteen hours of sleep.”
“Reminds me of the Mittenmast case. All those long days at the courthouse?”
She nodded. “That was killer. I think I lost three houseplants during that case. Good thing I don’t have a dog.”
He pulled into a chain pharmacy, beside which was one of those hole-in-the-wall, fast-food burger joints with a drive-through, no inside seating, and the best fry sauce.
“Chocolate milkshake.”
Sal chuckled. “Cheeseburger? Fries? Onion rings?”
“Yes.”
He cracked his door. “Wait here.”
She watched him walk inside the pharmacy and come out a few minutes later with a grocery bag hanging from one hand. He strode to the drive-up window and spoke to the teller, pulling out his wallet. Before stepping back, receipt in hand, he turned and pointed at the car.
When he opened the driver’s door again she said, “Aren’t we driving over there?”
“Sure. But I wanted to order first.” He drove to pick up the food, and they settled in to eat in a corner of the parking lot.
“Daulton is expecting us, right?”
“Sure.” He wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “I’m keeping him updated. He said he’ll see us when we get there.”
“Okay.” She figured he could have eaten while he drove. She’d even seen him do it before on occasion. “So why are we taking our time?”
“Because you were just kidnapped, and a woman you thought was your friend is now dead. I want to make sure you’re really okay before I take you to work.”
Well. There was a lot there. Most of it Allyson didn’t want to think about. Later, she would cry over a pint of ice cream. Probably in the bathtub if she was honest with herself. Did she want to talk about it with Sal?
She dipped a fry in her milkshake and pointed it at him. Thankfully the milkshake was so thick it didn’t drip. “I want to know if you blame me for what happened at the courthouse.”
“No. Of course not.” He kind of looked offended. “Why else would I defend you to my team?”
“But they still don’t like me.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?”
She shrugged.
“I can’t really help how they feel. I could talk until I’m blue in the face, but it’s like working with a bunch of wild mustangs sometimes.”
She smiled. Pretty apt description, if you asked her. “You miss the
mountains?”
“Of course.” He took a sip of his drink, swallowed, and then opened his mouth again. As though intending to say something. But didn’t.
“What?”
“I’m thinking about finishing out my tenure as a marshal and going home.”
He was thinking about retiring? She couldn’t believe it.
“Maybe I’ll get a PI license.”
Quit his job altogether? “Maybe you should just transfer to a Marshal’s office in Wyoming. Keep the job, take a slower-paced assignment, right? And you’d be close to home.” Hadn’t he thought about that?
“I’ve looked into it.”
If he did that, he’d probably never come to Seattle. What would she do if he was gone? Saying she’d miss him didn’t quite cover it.
Maybe she would go and visit him. All that wide-open space sounded good. She was more comfortable when she wasn’t surrounded by a crowd of people. Not antisocial as such, but she’d seen what humans could do to each other. The worst side of life. Enough to make an introvert out of anyone just out of self-preservation.
Maybe for her next vacation she would go to a small town. A place everyone said, “Hi,” and where she could go hiking. Make coffee over a fire. Sleep under the stars.
“It’s okay if you don’t want your team to know we’re…friends.” Or whatever they were. “I understand wanting to keep personal things from your coworkers. Mine gnaw on stuff like they’re dogs with a bone.
Sal just glanced at her with that unreadable expression. She’d thought she could read him pretty well, but lately it seemed like she had no clue what he was thinking.
“Whatever I’m going to do next,” he said, “there’s no way I can leave the team until this Kennowich thing is figured out. They’re good on a personal level, most of them engaged to be married. They don’t need me to watch their backs so much. Now we just need to be done with this case.”
And then he would be gone.
“How about you?”
She scrunched up her nose. “I’ve thought about being done with the ATF.” She could take some cool vacations. Get to work on that bucket list. “I do want to have a family, and I wouldn’t want to work this job when there’s a chance of getting pregnant. It’s too risky.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I could take a desk job.”
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