by J. J. Stone
The plane bucked slightly as it lowered toward the waiting runway. Ada watched as the ground drew closer and closer, then the plane tires thudded on the tarmac. She pulled her temporary cell phone from her purse and powered it on, ending her last moments of blissful ignorance. As soon as she stepped off the plane, she’d be stepping into an unwelcome and unfamiliar new chapter of being jobless. The more she thought about it, the more she didn’t know what she was more afraid of: having to start over, or not really minding that she had to.
——
“I really don’t know what to say, Deacon.” FBI Director Alan Reems looked across his desk at James with an exasperated grimace.
James pushed his neck straighter, even though it sent a spike of pain to the middle of his skull. He wet his lips and opened his mouth to respond. His words stilled on the tip of his tongue when Reems pitched forward in his seat.
“You’ve failed four times now to apprehend a suspect. You’ve barely managed to link the cases. And you almost got yourself and a civilian killed.” He raised his brows at the younger man. “What would you do if you were me?”
“Recognize that my team is making progress, sir.” James kept his tone calm even though he was simmering on the inside.
Director Reems tossed his head back and chuckled. “I’ve always liked you, Deacon. I put you in charge of the BAU because I liked your style and I knew you’d get things done. But this”—he waved at James’s still battered physique—“is making me wonder if I was wrong.”
James curled his tongue against the roof of his mouth and waited for his anger to cool. He had been sitting under Reems’ third interrogation for the past half hour. The BAU team had only been back in Virginia a day. James hadn’t even made it back to his townhouse. His last 14 hours had been spent between his office, the BAU conference room, and with Reems.
The medic who met their plane on the runway had demanded that James take some leave and finish recovering. It had taken every persuasive ounce of James’s personality to convince the sputtering EMT that he had nothing to worry about, that he looked much worse than he actually was. However, now that the rush of the past couple of days was dying down, James’s body was loudly reminding him just how much he had lied to the medic. What he would give for some narcotic painkillers …
“I should be removing the BAU from these cases.”
James snapped back to reality at Reems’s words. “No offense, sir, but that would be an incredibly stupid move.”
“It couldn’t be any more stupid than firing your analyst in the middle of an investigation. Or driving into the middle of a historic blizzard. Or stringing together cases based on the moderately believable theories of a no-name author who just so happens to also be the daughter of a serial killer.”
“No one outside this team knows who Ada really is,” James said, his voice dripping acid.
Reems tossed his hands up. “Well, that saves me a potential catastrophe.”
“We’re developing the case with each killer we find.” James gritted his teeth and pushed to the edge of his seat, pulling his suit jacket away from his overheating body.
“How, Deacon? I’ll give you the notebook thing. So far each crime scene has had one. But you’re going to need more than that to start convicting killers. Oh, and those killers actually have to be alive to be convicted.”
“We had the last one, sir. Had I not been incapacitated, we would have gotten him here and been able to get ahead of whoever is leading all of this.”
Reems slowly lowered his palm to the polished cherry desktop. His wedding band caught a ray of sunlight and glinted directly into James’s eye. “But you didn’t get him here. You lost yet another suspect, even though you have an entire team of highly qualified agents with extensive levels of training.” He let out a genuine sigh. “You’re tying my hands for me, son.”
A bundle of nerves spasmed in James’s side and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from reacting. He locked gazes with Reems. “Sir. Do not pull us from this investigation. I promise you, it’s a decision you’d regret.”
Reems stared him down, his gray eyes crinkling around the edges as he gauged James’s demeanor. Finally, he slapped the hand already resting on the desk hard against the wood surface. “This is it, Deacon. After this, I’m out of neck to stick out for you.”
James nearly cried in relief as he stood solidly from his seat and buttoned his suit jacket. “Thank you.” He forced as smooth a heel turn as he could and made for the office door.
“I have a couple of potential analysts for you to interview tomorrow.”
As his hand wrapped around the frigid metal doorknob, James half-turned back to the director. “I’m not sure that’s the best use of my time right now, sir.”
Reems raised a brow at him. “How are you going to get by without an analyst?”
“We have one.”
Reems shook his head. “Ada Brandt is not an FBI analyst.”
James yanked the door open. “She’s better than any analyst I’ve ever worked with. Whether she’s official or not, she’s an asset to this team.”
“Get her here, then. You need someone in the trenches with the rest of the team.”
I’d have better luck convincing her to dye her hair green, James mused as he gave his superior a tight smile and a single nod then strode from the office and gulped in a free breath.
——
“I hope someday you can look back on this and not regret your decision,” Dean Bridges said with the worst attempt at disappointment Ada had ever heard. She knew the dean was enjoying this.
The envelope with her termination letter crinkled in her vice grip as she forced herself to maintain eye contact. “I’m sure I will,” she said.
“I’ll allow you to finish out the semester then clear out your office and submit all final grades before the end of the month.” Dean Bridges hopped down out of his leather office chair and slowly strode around to the front of his desk. “You look like hell, Greene.”
“Usually how one looks after meeting a tree at sixty miles an hour.”
Dean Bridges recoiled and scrunched his pudgy face into an even more dimpled expression that Ada guessed was supposed to be a cringe. “I hope you’re suing the FBI. Lord knows you’ll need the money.”
“Doesn’t seem necessary, since it wasn’t the FBI’s fault that I was injured.” Ada was amazed at the level of control she maintained over her vocal chords. The letter in her hand felt more and more like a ticket to freedom from Dean Bridges’s sardonic presence. She pushed to her feet and let herself grin wickedly as the diminutive dean had to tilt his head up to continue scowling at her. “If there’s nothing else …”
Dean Bridges grunted at her and motioned to the door. “We’re done here.”
“Good.” Ada made sure to lengthen her strides as much as she could as she strode to the office door. She could feel Bridges’s beady gaze boring into her back. Without a single glance back, Ada breezed out of his office and into the reception area.
“Have a lovely holiday, Miss Greene,” the receptionist said, her eyes somewhat glassy behind their bifocals.
Ada gave the older woman as cheerful a smile as she dared. “You, too.”
She made it all the way to her office before the tremors started in her knees. She fell into her office and slapped the lock into place before cascading to the floor in a quivering, sniffling glob of tears and choked breaths. Now that her employment status was officially changed, Ada’s oddly resolved air of indifference was shattering away to reveal the petrified ball of nerves and stress that was swallowing her whole. This job had been her life. She had no other options. With her luck, Dean Bridges had electively alerted all other colleges in the area of her swift termination and the circumstances surrounding it. That snarky little man would love nothing more than to see Ada scroungi
ng around Seattle for any scrap of a job she could find.
Blinking the gummy haze from her eyes, Ada swiped a hand under her nose and looked around her meager but homely office. The thought of boxing it all up made a new wave of grief flood through her. She pulled her knees up and pressed her forehead against them, her shoulders scrubbing against the wall as she sobbed.
——
Liam Campbell gave the helpful teacher who’d just given him directions a quick wink and began his slightly unsure journey down the cramped hallway of academic offices. He smoothed a hand over his dark chestnut mane, making sure the drizzle outside hadn’t sent his heavily manipulated locks into a frizzy beehive. He readjusted his glasses as he glanced left and right at the office door numbers.
Half of the offices were dark. Liam realized it was late in the day for a teacher. He really hoped he hadn’t made this crazy journey to the Emerald City in vain. He had no guarantee that she was even here. He’d seen the news coverage. For all he knew, she was holed up somewhere with an I.V. drip and Vicodin.
The number he’d been scanning furiously for finally appeared on his right. Liam halted and frowned as he noted the absence of light behind the frosted glass door. Daring to hope, he wrapped his knuckles lightly on the wood portion of the door and waited. His heart jumped when he heard a sharp gasp from the other side of the door, followed by an odd scraping noise. “Professor Greene?” Liam asked, leaning closer to the door.
A few seconds later, the door opened a crack and a bruised and bleary-eyed face peeked out at him from the gloomy office. “I’m sorry; my office hours are over for today.” Professor Ada Greene looked like she might shatter into a million pieces at the slightest sneeze.
Liam planted a warm smile on his lips. “I’m not a student. I’m actually here to talk to you about a potential project.” He thrust his hand toward the opening in the door. “Liam Campbell.”
Ada feebly met his gesture, still not opening the door any wider. “Ada Greene.”
Liam raised his brows slightly. “Do you think we could talk in your office?”
Something visibly clicked in Ada’s features, and an embarrassed grin lit up her face. She flipped a switch and opened the door all the way. Liam stepped into her office as the fluorescent lights flicked on. He paused just inside the doorway and waited for Ada to usher him toward the pair of chairs before her ramshackle desk.
“Sorry about the mess in here. I just got back in town.” She pulled a stack of books off of a chair and waved him to sit in it. “You said a potential project?” Ada asked as she lowered into one of the chairs.
Liam nodded eagerly as his body sank into the crinkled fake leather of his chair. He slung one leg over the other and leaned toward Ada. “I work with a textbook development firm. Specifically in the criminology studies division.”
Ada blinked a few times but waited for him to continue his pitch.
“We’re overhauling a few areas of our core curriculum offerings, and I noticed that we have a major gap in updated criminology history.” He cleared his throat and wrapped his hands around his knee to prevent them from flailing around too drastically. “I’ve been seeing your name all over the news lately with these investigations. Anyone who gets integrated that quickly into an FBI investigation has to be something of an expert. And I’m a huge fan of your literary works, so I know you can write.”
A hazy flush ignited life back into Ada’s drawn and sallow face. “I appreciate the kind words.”
“I’m offering more than words.” Liam firmly planted both feet into the carpet and perched his elbows on top of his knees. “I want to develop a serial killer encyclopedia. It will likely involve a number of volumes. Something that begins with the first known killer and ends with this case you’re working with the FBI.” Liam crooked a corner of his mouth into an excited half-smirk as he delivered his favorite part of his presentation. “I want you to help author it.”
Ada’s chest stopped rising as her eyes grew. A range of emotions washed across her before she settled on sheer shock. “Are you offering me a job?”
Liam nodded. “We have very competitive pay rates, and you could work from Seattle. Our office is actually in Portland, so it wouldn’t be much trouble for either of us to commute for progress meetings.”
He watched as her head collapsed toward her chest as if her neck had lost all function. A soft round of sniffs followed. Then a small voice said, “I can’t believe this.”
“I wanted to be sure I came out here in person to present this to you.” Liam reached a hand toward her and gingerly touched his fingertips to the very edge of her knee. He waited for her head to rise before he said, “I wanted you to see how serious we are about securing you for this project.”
Ada wiped a tear trail from her cheek and looked up at the ceiling while she blotted under her eyes with the sides of her index fingers. “You’ve actually come at the most perfect time possible.” She tipped her head to the side and gave him a sad smile. “I’ve recently found myself unemployed.”
“I’m so sorry,” Liam said.
“I know this might sound crazy, but would it be OK for me to think about this?” Ada held up her hands. “I’m in no way turning you down. I just want to take a moment to process everything that’s happened today.”
“Absolutely!” Liam rose from his seat, followed by Ada. “I’ll leave my number and you can call me whenever you’re ready to discuss more.” He slipped a business card into her hand and grinned. “I feel a little weird admitting this, but I’m crazy excited at the thought of being able to pick your brain.”
Ada chuckled, a light yet hearty sound that made Liam’s grin creep wider. “You really want me to sign on for this project, don’t you?”
“I do,” Liam said, “but I would also genuinely love the chance to work with you.”
Ada sobered and bowed her head. “Well, I’m flattered, thank you. I hope we can make this happen.” She held out her hand to him and smiled as he shook it.
——
“So you lost a job and gained another one, all in a matter of an hour?” Uncle Mike’s surprise made Ada feel a little better. This meant it really was as crazy of a situation as she felt it was.
She huffed a chuckle as she jogged around the last turn before her street. She adjusted her headphone earbuds as she quickened her pace. “If this Liam guy hadn’t been a total stranger, I would have had an ugly cry session right there in front of him.”
“When do you start?”
A rattling cough cackled from Ada’s throat and she stumbled to a halt. She cleared her throat a few times, holding the headphone mic away from her mouth.
“Do you really think you’re healed enough to be jogging, Ada?” Uncle Mike asked.
Ada slowly drew in a deep, cleansing breath and resumed a languid jog. “I only went about half as far as I usually do. I needed to clear my head a bit.” She stopped herself from justifying her decision to exercise. “Who died and made you my doctor?” She made sure to sound as jovial as she could over the phone.
Uncle Mike grunted. “Just don’t hurt yourself.” The line went silent and Ada curled her arm around to glance at her phone in its armband. Then her uncle’s voice returned with a distinctly shifted tone. “Speaking of doctors, I was actually calling to tell you about my latest checkup.”
Ada froze mid-stride. Her uncle never told her about his health. Ever. Her blood went cold. “OK …”
Uncle Mike cleared his throat. “She put me on some medications, just as a precaution. I guess my heart’s not in the best shape.”
Ada’s mind flashed back to the dinner she’d had at Uncle Mike’s house, the night she met James and Patrick. She recalled the hidden prescription bottles in the kitchen cabinet. He was lying about the medications being a new thing. She wondered how long he’d been hiding their existence from her. That didn
’t bother her nearly as much as the fact that he now felt led to fill her in. She knew it meant the situation was likely more dire than he was telling her.
“What does that mean?” she asked, leaning back against a stop sign pole.
“Like I said, it’s all precautions. I just have some elevated levels of things and a slightly clogged artery.”
Ada squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed the stinging lump in her throat. “Uncle Mike, this doesn’t sound good.”
“I didn’t want to say anything to you, because I don’t want you to worry. I know you like to worry.”
She was too upset to play along. “Uncle Mike, this is exactly something I need to worry about. You live all by yourself, and you’re at least an hour and a half away from me. What if something happened and no one was there to help you?”
Uncle Mike sighed. “This is what I mean.”
“I’m sorry you don’t like people worrying about you, but you’re too important to me to just brush this off like it’s nothing.” Ada’s voice caught.
There were a few seconds of poignant silence before Uncle Mike responded. “I’m going to be OK, Ada-bug.” He suddenly sounded like the aging man that he was. And that made Ada feel even more terrified.
She stood upright and glanced down the street. Her house was no more than a 20-second jog from where she stood, but she couldn’t make herself move. Her mind was juggling the past two days of information around and around in a dizzying display of decisions. As she looked at her house, pieces of the puzzle that was her future began quietly clicking into place.
“Are you still there?” Uncle Mike asked.
Ada smiled even though her stomach was crawling with uncertainty. “Yep. Just thinking.”
——
Georgetown took on a whimsical presence at Christmastime. Even James couldn’t ignore the soft glow of the twinkle lights diffused off the glistening white snow. Though the temperatures were frigid, he pointedly ran outside at this time of the year. His lungs burned and his eyes watered, but the calming nighttime light displays always helped dispel the chaos of his day.