If She Knew

by Blake Pierce

  A grandchild, Kate often thought. How did Melissa get that old? Hell, for that matter, how did I get that old?

  And when she thought of Melissa and the unborn Michelle, Kate typically turned her thoughts to her deceased husband. He’d been murdered six years ago, shot in the back of the head while walking their dog at night. His wallet and phone had been taken and she’d been called to ID the body less than two hours after he’d left the house with the dog.

  The wound was still fresh most of the time but she hid it well. When she had retired from the bureau, she’d done so with about eight months left before official retirement age. But she had been unable to commit her full time, attention, and focus to her work after having finally scattered Michael’s ashes over an old derelict baseball diamond near his home in Falls Church.

  Perhaps that was why she had spent the last year so depressed about leaving her job. She had left months before she’d legally had to. What might those months have offered her? What else could she have done with her career?

  She’d always wondered about these things, but had never fallen on the side of regret. Michael had deserved at least a few months of her undivided attention. He actually deserved much more than that but she knew that even in the afterlife, there’s no way he would have expected her to ditch her work for too long. He would have known that it would have taken some work for her to properly grieve—and that work had meant literally working at the bureau for as long as she had been emotionally capable after his death.

  She was relieved to find as she drew closer to DC that she was not feeling as if she was betraying Michael. She did personally believe that death was not the end; she didn’t know if that meant Heaven was real or if reincarnation was possible and quite frankly she was okay with not knowing. But she did know that wherever Michael might be, he’d be happy that she was heading back to DC—even if it was to be severely reprimanded.

  If anything, he was probably having a laugh at her expense.

  This made Kate smile in spite of herself. She cut the podcast off and focused on the road, her own thoughts, and how even if she’d screwed up, life somehow always ended up seeming cyclical in nature.

  ***

  She didn’t get a rush of emotion when she stepped through the front doors and into the large lobby at the FBI headquarters. If anything, she was very aware that she felt she no longer belonged here—like a woman revisiting her old high school to find that the halls now made her feel sad rather than nostalgic.

  The sense of familiarity helped, though. Despite feeling displaced, she also felt like she really hadn’t been away that long after all. She walked through the lobby, checked in at the front, and headed for the elevators as if she had been here just last week. Even the enclosed space of the elevator was comforting as it carried her up to Assistant Director Duran’s office.

  When she stepped off the elevator and entered Duran’s waiting area, she saw the same receptionist who had been behind the same desk a little over a year ago. They had never really been on a first-name basis, but the receptionist got up from her desk and rushed to hug her.

  “Kate! It’s so good to see you!”

  Thankfully, the receptionist’s name came back to her just the right moment. “You, too, Dana,” Kate said.

  “I didn’t think you’d do well with retirement,” Dana joked.

  “Yeah, it’s sort of a big snore.”

  “Well, go ahead and go on in,” Dana said. “He’s waiting for you.”

  Kate knocked on the closed office door. She found that even the somewhat gruff response she got from the other side made her feel at ease.

  “It’s open,” the voice of Assistant Director Vince Duran said.

  Kate opened the door and stepped inside. She had been fully prepared to see Duran and had readied herself for it. What she had not been expecting, however, was the face of her old partner. Logan Nash smiled at her right away, getting up from one of the chairs in front of Duran’s desk.

  Duran seemed to look aside for a moment to allow the reunion. Kate and Logan Nash met at the visitor’s chairs in a friendly embrace. She had worked with Logan for the last eight years of her career. He was ten years younger than she was but had been well on his way to piecing together an illustrious career for himself when she had left.

  “It’s good to see you, Kate,” he said lightly into her ear as they hugged.

  “You, too,” she said. Her heart swelled and slowly, almost teasingly, she realized that no matter how she tried to paint it, she had dearly missed this part of her life over the past year.

  When the embrace broke, they both awkwardly took their seats in front of Duran. During their time together as partners, they had sat in this exact same place numerous times. But it had never been for matters of discipline.

  Vince Duran took a very deep breath and sighed it out. Kate could not yet tell just how upset he was.

  “So, let’s not dance around it,” Duran said. “Kate, you know why you’re here. And I have assured Chief Budd that I would handle the situation in a very effective way. He seemed fine with that and I am fairly certain the entire ordeal with you tossing a suspect from his front porch will be swept under the rug. What I would like to know, though, is how you even came to be on that poor man’s front porch.”

  She knew then that whatever harsh conversation she had been expecting was not going to happen. Duran was a monster of a man, roughly two hundred and forty pounds and the majority of that was nothing but muscle. He’d spent some time in Afghanistan in his early twenties and although she had never learned all he had done over there, the rumors were rampant. He had seen and done some harsh things and it often showed in the lines of his face. But today, he seemed to be in a good mood. She wondered if it was because he was no longer speaking to her as someone who worked under him. It almost felt more like catching up with an old friend.

  That made it easy for her to tell him about the murder of Julie Hicks—the daughter of her good friend Deb Meade. She walked through speaking with them at a visitation at the Meade house and how certain the Meades had seemed. She then replayed the scene on Neilbolt’s porch, explaining how she had started off by defending herself and then admittedly taking things perhaps a step too far.

  On a few occasions, she got a soft chuckle from Logan. Duran, meanwhile, remained mostly expressionless. When she was done, she waited for his reaction and was confused when all she got out of him was a shrug.

  “Look…as far as I’m concerned,” he said, “it’s a non-issue. While you might have been sticking your nose where it didn’t belong, this guy had no business putting his hands on you—especially after you told him that you were former FBI. That was stupid on his part. The only thing I’d raise an eyebrow over is you slapping the cuffs on him.”

  “As I said…I admittedly went a little overboard.”

  “You?” Logan asked in mock surprise. “No!”

  “What do you know about the case?” Duran asked.

  “Just that she was killed in her home while her husband was away on business. The ex-boyfriend was the only real lead and the cops dismissed him in pretty quick fashion. I did find out later that his alibi was airtight, though.”

  “Nothing else?” Duran asked.

  “Nothing that I’ve been told.”

  Duran nodded and then managed a cordial smile. “So aside from pitching grown men from their porches, how has retirement been treating you?”

  “Like hell,” she admitted. “It was great for the first few weeks but it got old fast. I miss my job. I’ve taken to reading an insane amount of true crime books. I’m watching far too many crime shows on the Biography Channel.”

  “You’d be surprised how often we hear that from agents in their first six to twelve months after retirement. Some of them call begging for some sort of work. Anything we have. Even paperwork of bullshit wiretaps.”

  Kate said nothing but nodded to indicate that she could identify.

  “But yet you didn’t call,” Duran
said. “If I’m being honest, I expected you to. I didn’t think you could just drop it so easily. And this little incident proves me right.”

  “With all due respect,” Kate said, “did you call me down here to slap me on the wrist over this or to rub my nose in how I can’t outgrow my old job?”

  “Neither,” Duran said. “I was looking through your files yesterday after I got the call from Richmond. I noticed that you’ve been asked to testify at a parole hearing. Is that correct?”

  “It is. It’s for the Mueller case. Double homicide.”

  “Is it the first time you’ve been contacted about work since you retired?”

  “No,” she said, pretty sure he already knew the answer. “I had an assistant to an agent call me about two months after I retired to ask questions about a cold case I last worked on back in 2005. Some of the guys in records and research have reached out a few times about my methodology on some older cases, too.”

  Duran nodded and reclined back in his chair a bit. “You should also know that we have instructors at the academy using some of your earlier casework as examples for coursework. You left your mark here in the bureau, Agent Wise. And honestly, I was rather hoping you’d be one of those agents who started calling up to see what you could do to help even after you had retired.”

  “Are you saying you want me to start assisting with some cases, then?” Kate asked. She did her best to keep the hopeful tone out of her voice.

  “Well, it’s not that cut and dried. We were thinking of perhaps bringing an agent or two with an exceptional track record to work on cold cases. Nothing long term or full time, mind you. And when we have discussed it, your name was the only one that kept coming up in unison. Now, before you get too excited, please know that this is not an immediate thing. We still want you to relax. Take some time off. Real time off.”

  “I can do that,” Kate said. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet,” Duran said. “It could be a few months. And I’m afraid I’m going to have to revoke the offer if you go back home and start beating up men much younger than you on their porches.”

  “I think I can restrain myself,” Kate said.

  Again, Logan couldn’t help but let out a little muffled laugh from beside her.

  Duran seemed just as amused as he got to his feet.

  “Now… if you truly are going to assist, I’m afraid we have to revisit one of the less spectacular parts of the job.”

  Assuming he meant paperwork, Kate sighed. “Forms? Documents?”

  “Oh no, nothing like that,” Duran said. “I’ve scheduled a meeting to get this going. Figured it would be the best way to keep all channels up to date.”

  “Ah, I hate meetings.”

  “Oh, I know,” Duran said. “I remember. But hey… what better way to welcome you back?”

  Logan chuckled beside her as they got to their feet and followed Duran out of the office. For Kate, it all seemed eerily familiar.

  ***

  Really, it turned out not to be a bad meeting at all. There were only three other people waiting for them in the small conference room at the end of the hallway. Two of them were agents, one a male, the other female. As far as Kate could tell, she had met neither of them before. The third was a man who looked vaguely familiar; she was pretty sure his last name was Dunn. As Duran closed the door behind them, one of the agents got to his feet and instantly extended his hand.

  “Agent Wise, I’m so pleased to meet you,” he said.

  She took his hand awkwardly and shook it. As she did, the agent seemed to realize that he had made a small spectacle of himself.

  “Sorry,” he said under his breath as he quickly returned to his seat.

  “That’s fine, Agent Rose,” Duran said as he took a seat at the head of the table. “You aren’t the first agent to be floored by the presence of near-legendary Agent Kate Wise.” He said this with a bit of sarcasm and cut a thin smile Kate’s way.

  The man she thought was named Dunn stood out from the other two—both clearly younger agents. He was a supervisor of sorts; it was clear from his stoic expression to his finely pressed suit.

  “Agent Wise,” Duran said, “these two agents are Agent Rose and Agent DeMarco. They have been partners for about the last seven months, but only because myself and Assistant Director Dunn have had problems finding a place for them. They both come with their own set of unique strengths. And if you do end up taking the lead on this case in Richmond, one of them will likely be assigned to work with you.”

  Agent Rose still looked embarrassed but refused to break his concentration. Kate couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so visibly shaken to meet her. It had been somewhere around the next-to-last year of her career when someone from Quantico had ended up working with her for a day in the labs. It was humbling but also a little off-putting.

  “I should add,” Assistant Director Dunn said, “that Deputy Director Duran and I are the ones that have pushed for this program to bring recently retired agents in. I don’t know if he has told you yet, but your name was the first that came up.”

  “Yes,” Duran agreed. “Needless to say, we’d really appreciate it if you kept it under wraps for now. And, of course, knock it out of the park.”

  “I’ll try my best,” Kate said. She was beginning to understand that there was now a bit of pressure being applied here. Not that she minded, really. She usually operated better under pressure.

  “Great,” Duran said. “For now, do you want to go over the details of this case as you understand them?”

  Kate nodded and instantly fell back into her old role. It was as if she had never missed a day, much less a year. As she filled them in on what was going on in Richmond and how she had gotten involved, Agent Rose and Agent DeMarco held steady eye contact with her, perhaps studying her to see how they might work alongside her.

  But she didn’t let that distract her. As she went over the details of the case, she felt as if she had stepped back in time.

  And it was far superior to the present she had been living.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Three hours later, Kate and Logan were sitting at an outdoor table beneath a canopy at a small Italian restaurant. Logan was eating a meat-packed sub while Kate was eating a pasta salad and enjoying a glass of white wine. She did not drink often and almost never before five in the afternoon, but this was a special occasion. Even the mere idea of a reality where she might once again become active within the bureau was cause for celebration as far as she was concerned.

  “So what kind of cases are you working on right now?” Kate asked.

  “All things that would bore you, I’m sure,” he said. But she knew he’d tell her; he’d tell her because he loved the job just as much as she did.

  “Trying to crack some scammers that have been tampering with ATMs for the most part. I’m sort of working in a partnership with a few other agents in what might be a small prostitution ring coming out of Georgetown, but that’s about it.”

  “Yikes,” Kate said.

  “Told you. Boring.”

  “So a far cry from these cold cases Duran mentioned? What do you know about that anyway? How long has that little side project been cooking?”

  “A while, I think. I was only brought in to the loop two weeks ago. Duran and some of the other behind-closed-door types were asking about some of the cases we had worked on that never got solved. Not looking for methodology or anything like that, just asking for details and old case files.”

  “And they didn’t give you a reason?”

  “No. And…wait, why do you sound suspicious? I thought you’d be jumping all over this opportunity.”

  “Oh, I plan to. But it makes me wonder if there is one particular cold case they are more interested in. Something had to have spurred on this sudden interest in cold cases. I seriously doubt it’s just so Duran could find some way to bring me back.”

  “I don’t know,” Logan said. “You’d be surprised. You’ve bee
n missed around here. Some of the newer agents still talk about you like you’re some kind of mythological character.”

  She ignored the compliment, still stuck on her train of thought. “Also, why would he call me in only to send me back, telling me he wanted me to take some more time before starting? It makes me wonder if whatever the real reason behind it is might not quite be fleshed out just yet.”

  “Well, you know,” Logan said. “Based on the way you’re overthinking this whole thing, maybe he’s right. Relax, Kate. Like he said…there are tons of retired agents who would die for this chance. So yeah, go back home. Relax. Do absolutely nothing.”

  “You know me well enough to know that’s not how I am,” she said. She took a sip from her wine, thinking that maybe he was right. Maybe she should just revel in the joy of coming back to work…sort of.

  “Retirement didn’t change that, huh?” Logan asked.

  “No. If anything, it made it worse. I can’t stand to sit still. I hate an idle brain. Cross word puzzles and knitting aren’t going to cut it for me. Maybe deep down Duran knew that I’m too young to be put out to pasture.”

  Logan smiled and shook his head. “Yeah, but the grass in those pastures is pretty lush and green.”

  “Yeah, and there’s cow shit everywhere.”

  Logan sighed as he took the final bite of his lunch. “Okay,” he said. “Some of us need to get back to work.”

  “Cheap shot,” she said, taking the last sip of her wine.