Stalked

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Stalked Page 11

by Allison Brennan


  But wasn’t that what she did now? Wasn’t that why she wanted to be a cop? To give peace to the survivors and obtain justice for the dead?

  “Luce?” Sean pushed her hair back and held her cheek.

  “I’m okay.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I will be. I was just thinking about Weber and how she approached her stories. I can handle it but the way she wrote—”

  “She sensationalized tragedy. Seemed to relish it.”

  “It was full of melodrama. Tony said it was accurate, but it’s how she told the story that made it dramatic. I should turn over the file to Suzanne.”

  “What file?”

  “Tony’s personal notes. Did you learn anything more about Peter McMahon?”

  “I haven’t found him yet, which is unusual.”

  “Because you’re so good?”

  “Exactly.” He kissed her. “Since I last talked to you, I learned that after his grandmother died he registered for school in Newark and lived with his mother for a year, then ran away. There’s a sealed juvenile record on him. I found him again in Seattle, where his father lives, and a record that he received a GED under the name Peter McMahon Gray.”

  “Social Services sent him back to his mother?” Lucy frowned.

  “What don’t I know?”

  “I read Tony’s case notes. His parents were swingers. That means—”

  “I know what a swinger is. And I read the book. Peter filed for emancipation when he was sixteen and got it. Moved back to Jersey, where he went to a community college and got his GED. He was accepted into Syracuse for the second semester, right before he turned seventeen.”

  “Driven. Determined to do something with his life.” Lucy took a deep breath. “His childhood ended when he was nine. Did he graduate college?”

  “No. Disappeared two years later. I might be able to find out more, but not quickly—unless I hack into the Syracuse files. I promised I wouldn’t.”

  “Did you check obituaries?”

  “In New York and New Jersey. No Peter McMahon, no Peter Gray, and no John Doe of his description reported deceased the year he went off the grid.”

  “Maybe he just wanted to start over,” she said quietly.

  “Or to seek revenge.”

  “Tony didn’t make any indication that he thought the McMahon boy was responsible for what happened to Rosemary Weber.”

  “You’re the psychologist, Luce. What would that kind of upbringing do to a kid?”

  Anything. But that didn’t mean he’d grown into a killer.

  But it didn’t mean he hadn’t.

  “I wish Tony were here.”

  “What about Hans? Kate said he was coming here to clear out Tony’s files and work with Suzanne.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “It’s seven in the morning. I’m sure you’ll hear about it.” He paused, then asked, “Did you ever want to change your name and start over?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because changing my name wouldn’t have erased the memories.” She stood and said, “We’d better get to the cafeteria. I don’t want to be late for class.”

  * * *

  Lucy walked Sean to his car forty minutes later, after they’d eaten breakfast with her friends. “They’re a good group,” Sean said.

  “I think so.”

  “I feel better about you being here.”

  “Sean, you’re not going to go all over-protective on me, are you?”

  He wrapped his arms around her, dipped her, and gave her a deep kiss. She laughed. “Sean!”

  He put her on her feet but held her against him as he leaned on his Mustang. “I’m glad you made some friends, that this isn’t all work all the time.” He tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear. “You take everything so seriously, but you fell in with a group of people who have fun.”

  “They take it seriously, but they turn it off better than I do. In fact, they’re more like you than me. Maybe that’s why I like hanging out with them.”

  “I found out something about Laughlin. I’ll dig deeper if you want.”

  Lucy’s breakfast sandwich felt like a lead ball deep in the pit of her stomach. “What?”

  “He and Kate have known each other for a long time.”

  “I thought they might have had a past.” Why hadn’t Kate told her?

  “He overlapped with Kate in the D.C. field office for six months—the six months before her partner was killed and she disappeared to Mexico.”

  “The D.C. field office is one of the largest. Just because they were in the same office doesn’t mean they would have known each other.” But that would explain the animosity. Laughlin was here only for New Agent Class 12-14. It was a temporary assignment, so it may have been the first time he’d seen Kate in more than a decade. “Were they on the same squad?”

  “No—he’s always been in white-collar crimes. Kate’s always been in violent crimes, until taking the cybercrimes slot here, right?”

  Lucy nodded. “But Kate’s boyfriend back then was an SSA in the public corruption squad.” Lucy bit her lip, a sign that she was nervous or thinking.

  “Do you think it’s a coincidence?” Sean asked in a tone that told her he didn’t believe it was.

  Lucy hedged as she processed the information. “Did you see anything in Laughlin’s past about Evan Standler?”

  He shook his head. “Kate’s boyfriend?”

  “Adam Scott set up an ambush and killed him.” It was clear Sean hadn’t known. “It’s not something Kate and I talk about. She told me once, right after I moved to D.C., but never mentioned it again.”

  “Why would Laughlin have an issue with you? Or Kate?”

  “A lot of people blamed Kate for what happened, until she was able to clear her name. But by that time, it might be hard to forgive, and maybe he didn’t believe her. It’s one reason she was assigned here.” Lucy was going to have to talk to her sister-in-law; she saw no way around it. “When did Laughlin leave D.C.?”

  “Five years ago, when he transferred to Detroit. As much as I hate to ask him for a favor, maybe we should talk to Noah,” Sean said.

  Lucy kissed his hand. Sean didn’t like Special Agent Noah Armstrong, they’d butted heads more times than she could count, and she appreciated that he was willing to put that aside to get her the answers she wanted.

  “I don’t know that we have to go that far. Laughlin wants me to screw up. If I do, it’s my fault, not his.”

  “Unless he cheats. Does more than just give you the evil eye.”

  Lucy kissed him again. “Thank you.”

  “Aw, shucks, ma’am,” Sean teased.

  She rested her head on his chest and for a moment, just a moment, considered asking for the day off. Her emotions were still in turmoil. But she was already being closely observed; she didn’t want to make any more waves.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

  “I’m holding you to that.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Georgetown, Washington, D.C.

  Patrick walked into Sean’s office Friday morning. “Where’s Lucy?”

  Sean glanced at him oddly. “Quantico. Is she supposed to be someplace else?”

  “I thought you’d convince her to come back with you.”

  “I didn’t ask, and she wouldn’t have taken the day off, anyway. I’m picking her up tomorrow at noon and teaching her how to drive.”

  “She knows how to drive.”

  Sean laughed and put his e-reader down. He was nearly done with Weber’s books—he’d been reading half the night and since he’d gotten back home this morning, highlighting important information to discuss with Lucy or verify. The writer certainly hadn’t made any friends with the way she portrayed cops, victims, and predators. Essentially, everyone was guilty of something.

  “Lucy has a license, but when was the last time you drove with her?”

  Patrick hesitated. “Point taken. Y
ou know why she doesn’t like to drive, right?”

  “There’s a specific reason?”

  “She’s never talked about it, but when she was five we were in a serious car accident.”

  “You were driving?”

  Patrick sat down and sipped his coffee. “Dad was. I was fifteen, Carina sixteen. It was a severe storm one Sunday—clear when we left for church, total downpour within the hour. The car in front of us slammed on its brakes. Dad’s a good driver. He maneuvered out of the way, but the car on the right slammed on their brakes and hydroplaned right into us and we rolled. We were all knocked out, a couple of broken bones, but we were okay. Three people died in the collision—a twelve-car pileup. Anyway, that’s my guess why Lucy hates to drive.”

  Sean hadn’t known, and he realized that even though he knew all the important things about his girlfriend, he didn’t know everything. He wanted her to tell him about the accident, because even though Patrick’s explanation made sense, it didn’t sound like Lucy. She’d always faced her fears head-on—why not this one?

  “Working on anything interesting?” Patrick asked. “It’s already blistering hot out there.”

  “Reading Rosemary Weber’s books. The woman was a bitch. She pulled no punches. I have a list of three dozen people who might want her dead, just because of what she wrote. Lucy put it together last night, before Tony’s heart attack.”

  Patrick said with fake shock, “I didn’t know you were working for the FBI.”

  Sean gave him a dead-pan expression. “Ha, ha.”

  “Then why are you doing this?”

  “Because Tony Presidio asked Lucy to make this list and she’s grieving right now. I’m just doing what she would have done.”

  Sean went back to the book. He highlighted a name he’d seen multiple times.

  Detective Bob Stokes.

  Patrick said, “Aren’t you supposed to be preparing for an assignment?”

  “I have a week before Duke sends me to God knows where.”

  “Madison.”

  “Right. Wisconsin.” Sean smiled. “At least the weather will be tolerable.”

  “Believe me, I’d take it if I could.”

  “You could.”

  Patrick snorted. “As much as I hate stroking your inflated ego, no way could I crack their on-site security.”

  “The goal is for me not to crack it. Then Duke did his job right. Did I tell you Duke’s working on getting us a Homeland Security contract? Last time I flew commercial I sent him a memo—as a joke—about a half-dozen ways I could waltz into secured areas.”

  “You don’t sound interested.”

  “I’m not. I avoid government contracts.” Sean left those to Duke and his other partners. Unfortunately, if they had an airport security contract, it would be up to Sean and Lucy’s brother Jack, since they were both pilots and had in-depth knowledge of both private and commercial facilities. He regretted sending the memo to Duke and hoped Homeland Security ignored it.

  Sean glanced at his watch. “Want to do me a favor?”

  “No.”

  “Please?”

  “You must want it bad.”

  “It’s either take notes on Weber’s books or find out about this cop she acknowledged in her first book. He’s the only cop she didn’t slam.”

  “He must have talked to her.”

  “That’s what I thought. He might know a lot more.”

  Patrick didn’t move. Sean looked up. “What?”

  “The FBI is investigating her murder.”

  “So?”

  “Turn it over to them.”

  “I will.”

  “When?”

  “When I have something.”

  Patrick still didn’t move.

  Sean sighed. “What now?”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I’m bored.”

  Patrick glanced at his watch and leaned back in the chair.

  “You learned that trick from me.”

  “Is it working?”

  Sean put the e-reader down again. “Lucy’s name was in Weber’s files. I want to know what she has on Lucy and my cousin Kirsten. The only way I’m going to legally see those files is if Suzanne shows them to me. The only way she’ll show them is if I give her something useful. She and NYPD are running down leads as to who killed Weber, and there’s no doubt she’ll find the guy, but I don’t want all her files being part of the evidence.”

  “It already is.”

  “For now.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Rogan.”

  “I always do.”

  “What’s the cop’s name?”

  “Bob Stokes, Newark. He was the responding officer, and according to Weber, he’d pegged the parents as liars from the beginning, but his superiors didn’t believe him, until the FBI came in and cracked open the case.”

  “And what do you think he’s going to do for you?”

  “He talked to her. He probably knows what was taken from the files at the library archives. If I can deliver him to Suzanne, I’m one step closer to answers.”

  “Maybe you should just ask her.”

  “I will. When I get this.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  FBI Academy

  During lunch, Lucy found Kate eating in her office. Kate was the senior cybercrimes instructor at Quantico and was part of a joint task force on tracing online child pornography. It was a particularly difficult job for anyone, even a seasoned agent like Kate.

  “What do you want?” Kate asked Lucy without looking at her. Her eyes were focused on her computer.

  “We need to talk.”

  Kate stared at her computer for a long minute, then leaned back in her chair. She nodded and Lucy sat down.

  “You worked with Rich Laughlin before—before everything.” Lucy still had a hard time talking about Adam Scott. “Before you left D.C. twelve years ago.”

  “I’m not talking about Laughlin.” Kate’s face was set tight; she was trying hard not to react to anything Lucy said. Why was she being so controlled?

  “But—”

  “I thought you wanted to talk about Tony Presidio.”

  “I’m okay. Thank you for signing Sean in; it helped, talking to him.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “You and Tony were the subject of a staff meeting this morning. You’ve involved yourself in the middle of an investigation. I don’t have to tell you that being the subject of a staff meeting isn’t good.”

  Lucy shifted in her seat. “I don’t understand.”

  Kate tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t know.”

  “Know what? What’s wrong?” Had she missed something? Done something wrong? With all the pressure from Laughlin and her firearms test and Tony’s death and Weber’s book, had she missed something important?

  “Hans is here to put Tony’s office in order, and work on the profile Tony began on the murder of that writer. No one knew you were working with Tony until Hans told us.”

  Lucy said carefully, “There was nothing wrong with me doing extra work. I did it on my own time.”

  “Not when it impacts your overall performance.”

  Laughlin. It all came back to him.

  “I’ve done well in all my classes.”

  “Lucy, I’m not trying to ride you; I’m trying to help.” But her tone said just the opposite.

  “Then tell me what’s going on between you and Agent Laughlin.”

  Kate reddened and leaned forward. “How dare you,” she said through clenched teeth. “There’s nothing going on between me and anyone, and you damn well know that.”

  Lucy didn’t break eye contact, though her heart was pounding. She said as calmly as she could, “I didn’t mean you were having an affair.”

  Kate stared at her, but Lucy held her ground. She’d lived with Kate for the last seven years. She knew her better than she knew her family. If Kate saw any chip in Lucy’s armor, she’d
find a way to defuse the situation and not tell Lucy what she needed to know. Lucy didn’t understand why Kate didn’t come clean now, why she didn’t just explain what had happened between her and Laughlin. Did she think Lucy wouldn’t approve? Or that she’d be upset?

  “What are we doing here?” Kate asked quietly. “We’re family.”

  “Yes, we are. That’s why you need to tell me the truth. You promised me you would always be honest.”

  Kate shook her head. “Are you really pushing that button?”

  “You know I’m not.”

  “From my side of the desk, seems you are.”

  Lucy had learned how to play hardball from the best. “Then I’ll find out what I need to know on my own.”

  “Don’t think I don’t know you have Sean getting into my business.” There was disgust in her voice.

  “Sean is trying to figure out why Rich Laughlin is determined to undermine me.” Lucy hoped that her honesty would prompt Kate to open up.

  “What part of ‘keep your head down’ did you not understand? There’s a half-dozen people who would love to kick you out of here, and you keep pushing.”

  “I’m not pushing anything!” Was Kate exaggerating? “Laughlin surprised me at the gun range. He knows my fears and is exploiting them.”

  “Do you think maybe that’s part of your test?” Kate said sarcastically.

  “That’s what I thought at first, but this is more than just testing me.” Lucy hesitated, then said, “When he looks at me, I know he hates me. And after I walked in on your argument the other day, I think it’s more about you than me.”

  Kate slowly stood up. Again, she was angry, but Lucy saw fear in her eyes, and fear wasn’t something she equated with Kate.

  “Haven’t you been listening to me? To stand out is a bad thing. Getting perfect scores doesn’t make you stand out. Involving yourself in anything outside of your daily work does. Stay out of it. The thing with Laughlin has nothing to do with you—not everything is about you. You involved yourself in an ongoing federal investigation, and that isn’t smart.”

  Lucy realized that Kate was turning everything around to make it her fault. As if helping Tony, her instructor, had been a mistake.

  Lucy said, “Is Agent Laughlin harassing you?”

 

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