The screen changed again to display a different angle of the same street. The van was a little easier to spot in this one. It was sitting facing the flow of traffic, half tucked into the loading-dock alcove. I could see why someone would assume the van was there for a delivery. It looked exactly like the sort of van that did pickups and drop-offs. I wondered whether Walker had done that on purpose or if it’d been a coincidence. I was put out that I wouldn’t get to ask him. I didn’t like not knowing things.
“The van was a rental. We tracked down the rental company and confirmed that Walker rented it himself and paid for it with his own credit card. He didn’t take any steps to conceal his identity from the rental company, and the employee who handled the transaction didn’t recall anything off about him.”
The slide changed again to show a slightly different angle of the same street. A visible time stamp was shown in the lower right hand corner of the frame. I leaned forward to rest my forearms on my knees and squinted at the picture.
“This is video footage from the camera at the bank located on the corner of the block.” Meaghan took a deep breath, and for a moment it looked like she wanted to say something else, but she opted for clicking the remote and starting the video instead. I might’ve been more curious about what she wasn’t saying if my attention hadn’t been so thoroughly captured.
The video showed several long moments of people walking back and forth across the end of the street while the panel van sat ominously in the foreground. My heart fluttered, and I knew what was coming next. I sat back up and wrapped my hands around the arms of the chair and squeezed.
Sure enough, after another minute, Rory came into view. Only instead of walking across the street and taking the adjacent sidewalk to continue down Boerum Place with everybody else, she followed Red Hook Place into the faux alley where almost no one ever walks because there really isn’t anything down there except a couple of loading docks. She ducked her head as she searched through her purse for something, meaning she wasn’t in tune with her surroundings.
My stomach rolled, and I drew in a hitching breath as she came up alongside the back bumper of the panel van. I even started a little when Walker jumped out of the driver’s seat, though I’d suspected he would. After that, it was over pretty quickly. Rory hadn’t even looked up when Walker leapt out of the vehicle. It wasn’t until he’d gotten behind her and put his hand over her mouth that she’d even noticed him.
The tape was too grainy for me to see her expression very well, but I could tell she struggled for just a few seconds before Walker wrenched open the side door to the van and shoved her in, only to disappear right behind her. The van rocked back and forth several times before becoming still. I put my hand over my mouth and clenched my jaw so tight my molars ached. I had to keep telling myself that it was okay, that Rory was safe now, and that Walker was dead, but that still didn’t do as much to dampen my burgeoning fury as I’d hoped.
The tape continued to run for several agonizingly long seconds before Walker hopped out of the side of the van, shut the door behind him, looked around a bit, and then got back into the driver’s seat. Then the van lurched forward and took off down the street. We were able to watch it until it made a right on Willoughby. The video paused on a shot of the taillight of the van disappearing around the corner, and the lights in the room came back on. I blinked and shifted in my seat, restless and angry and miserable all at once.
Meaghan cleared her throat and clicked the remote in her hand so the PowerPoint presentation went off. The screen behind her was now dark, and she took her time setting the remote on the edge of the podium. I knew her well enough to know that she was stalling.
“As you can see, Dr. O’Connor was taken off the street in broad daylight so quickly that no one in the area appeared to notice her abduction. We have a team of agents searching the contents of the apartment Walker held her in as we speak. At this time, and unless we find evidence to the contrary, we have to treat the abduction as a spur-of-the-moment impulse on Walker’s part—a crime of opportunity, if you will—and not something he planned beforehand.”
Meaghan met my eyes as she said that, her expression apologetic. I scowled and looked away, irate and a little sick to my stomach. What she was saying made sense, I supposed. Even though it’d been obvious Walker had been casing the office, we didn’t have a concrete explanation as to why. And did it even matter at this point whether his actions were premeditated? We wouldn’t be able to prosecute him for them. But I was still having a hard time wrapping my head around what I perceived to be the agency’s laissez-faire attitude regarding the whole thing or really everything when it came to me of late. The sting of betrayal was sharp enough to draw blood.
“Also, after reviewing Walker’s case file and examining his history, we found no evidence that Walker was capable of such acts as he committed today, and this agency concurs that we could have done nothing to prevent this. We’re trying to keep this out of the news, but should the press call looking for a statement, everyone should remember that the Secret Service has a one-voice policy, and that voice is not yours. You can refer them to the front office, to SAIC Flannigan, who will explain our findings.”
Ouch. Talk about a slap to the face. It was too much, I decided suddenly, and I was tired of it. No one had made any sort of condemning statement regarding Lucia’s death or Mark’s involvement in the events that’d led us there. Even when the press had called headquarters looking for an explanation, all they’d gotten was “no comment.” And now no one seemed inclined to entertain the notion that what’d happened to Rory might’ve somehow been our fault because we hadn’t been doing our jobs thoroughly enough in the past few weeks to have seen this coming. The attitude of the entire agency felt like a big game of deny, minimize, counter-accuse to me, and I was done. My patience had snapped.
Meaghan was saying something else to the group, but I wasn’t listening anymore. Whatever it was, I doubted I wanted to know. It’d very likely only make me even more upset, and I wasn’t in the mood to shoulder one more emotional burden. Not tonight. I just needed some time to regain my footing, to get back onto even ground. Then, maybe, I’d be able to brush off all the agency’s official findings and dodging of responsibility as if it didn’t bother me.
The room suddenly filled with bright light and the scraping, shuffling sounds of people moving around, and I looked up, surprised to see that everyone was filing out into the hallway. Apparently we were done. I remained in my chair, not moving as everyone made their way to the door. Meaghan tried to catch my eye as she went but dropped her head at my dark glare. It took a few more minutes, but eventually the conference room was empty save for me, Allison, and my father.
I shifted my attention to my dad, who’d swiveled his chair around so he could face me, and we engaged in a little standoff. A part of me knew this wasn’t his fault. He got his marching orders from headquarters, and he couldn’t do anything about them. But in this moment, he wasn’t the man who’d raised me since I was a toddler. He wasn’t the man who’d given my mother a reason to live after my father and older sister had died. He was simply a company man, and I was furious with him. Somehow it felt like he’d chosen between the agency and us, and I didn’t like the choice he’d made.
Allison slowly rose and stood next to me for a long moment. From what I could see of her out of the corner of my eye, she appeared uncertain what to do next. After a moment of hesitation, she gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze and left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.
The atmosphere in the room was thick and suffocating. I was having a hard time drawing breath, and I was so angry, I was shaking. That my father was the epitome of calm only served to make me angrier. I didn’t know how he could appear so unaffected, but I longed to provoke a reaction out of him, even if it was only to ensure that someone else was as miserable as I was.
“You’re upset,” Dad said finally. He laced his fingers together on the top of the table and watched m
e placidly. This was a departure from the man who’d watched Mark’s interrogation with me a few weeks ago. Then, I’d been the calm one, and he’d been incredulous at my attitude. Funny how things could change so quickly.
“Little bit.”
“Rory’s going to be fine.”
Perhaps he didn’t know about everything she’d endured while she’d been in Walker’s clutches. I couldn’t imagine him being this collected if he did, and a part of me yearned to tell him. I wanted to see the look on his face when he confronted the atrocities Walker had committed, but I couldn’t bring myself to utter the words. More for Rory than for him. She might not have wanted him to know, and it was her story to tell, not mine. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood. Then I scolded myself for adding to my superficial injuries and eased off.
“That’s hardly the point,” I said.
“Then what is the point?”
“Do you really not know?”
“Enlighten me.”
“How the hell can you stand it?” I blurted out. “How can you be so calm? Doesn’t it bother you that they’re acting like none of this matters? Don’t you care that they’re trying to avoid acknowledging that anything even happened?”
Dad raised his eyebrows. “What’s to be gained by them acknowledging it?”
“What’s to be gained by them not?”
“You know the climate we’re operating in right now. The Service has endured far too many scandals of late. We can’t afford another one. Especially not one of this magnitude. The American people have almost completely lost faith in our abilities to accomplish our mission. We’d never recover if we acknowledged this one.”
I felt like my internal organs were being squeezed and yet trying to force their way out of my body by way of my skin at the same time. My fury was crushing and seemed to literally be gathering in every single cell of my body. I couldn’t clench my muscles hard enough. “I never realized you cared so much about the reputation of the agency.”
Dad frowned. “I think you’re taking this far too personally.”
My anger spiked, and I got to my feet and approached the table. “And I don’t think you’re taking it personally enough.”
“Ryan, the agency has a reputation to maintain and interests that are far wider reaching than the experiences of one agent.”
I was floored. “One agent? Oh, you mean me. Because all of a sudden none of this counts as your experience, apparently.”
“Not to headquarters it doesn’t, no.”
“And you’ve clearly never bothered to tell them, have you?”
For a moment, Dad appeared uncomfortable. But then he composed himself, and his expression was impassive once more. “We agreed when you took this job that no one could know about our relationship, and no one does. How would it look if I told everyone now? Do you have any idea the repercussions that could have? You need to think, Ryan. Act instead of react.”
That was the second time in the space of a few hours someone had said that to me, and I don’t think he could’ve made a worse word choice unless he’d found a way to blame my current mood on my period. “Would it make a difference, do you think? If they knew how recent events had impacted a SAIC instead of an agent, do you think they’d acknowledge their culpability then?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that when you make a mistake you should admit it. They drilled that into us from day one. ‘If you mess up, ’fess up.’ Only that doesn’t apply to them, apparently.” The words came out sounding as bitter as they tasted.
“I don’t know what you want from me, Ryan.”
“I want you to act like you care! I want you to act like this bothers you. I don’t understand how you could be so pissed off at Mark when you found out what he did, but you can be so disinterested in the agency pretending it never even happened. I don’t understand how you can just be okay with them acting like everything is business as usual.”
“What the hell should they do?”
“Apologize, for one thing. They could express some sympathy for Lucia’s family’s loss at the hands of one of their agents. That would be the polite thing to do.”
“Apologize for what? It isn’t the agency’s fault Mark did what he did.”
“I’m not saying it was their fault. I’m saying he was in a position of power and responsibility, and he abused it. They could at least admit it happened instead of not commenting on it.”
“I don’t see the point. It wouldn’t change anything. You’d still have bullet holes in you—”
“And Lucia would still be dead,” I finished for him, my tone hard and rancorous.
“Ryan, I—”
I held up a hand. Every single neuron and nerve ending inside me suddenly felt fried. I was done. Done with this conversation. Done with being angry. Done with this agency. Done with everything.
“No, you know what? You’re right. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. Lucia didn’t matter. Rory doesn’t matter. And I don’t matter. So, here. I can go not matter somewhere else. Somewhere where at least people who are close to me won’t die or get—” I stopped myself just shy of blurting out what’d happened to Rory and shook my head.
My badge was hanging on a thin chain around my neck. I looped it up over my head and slid it across the table to him. He caught it in his palm and looked at it for a second, obviously confused, before tipping his head back up to meet my eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m quitting. It’s not worth it. Not anymore.”
I didn’t give him time to respond. I wasn’t the least bit interested in what he might’ve had to say. Not then. Maybe not ever. I simply turned and walked out, leaving him to call after me as I left.
Inanely, after my impromptu declaration, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. I smiled at Allison as I approached her in the lobby and kept walking toward the elevator. She tossed the magazine she’d been thumbing through back onto the coffee table in the waiting area and jumped up out of her chair so she could follow me. I pushed the elevator call button and hooked my thumbs into the pockets of my purloined scrub pants as I waited.
Allison eyed me warily. Her eyes dropped to my chest, which was now noticeably badge-less, and her eyebrows flew up. “What happened?”
I took a long, slow, deep breath, reveling in my feeling of elation. My lips started to pull up in another smile. My decision may have been impulsive, but in that moment, it felt right. The elevator dinged, and I stepped on. I leaned against the back wall and waited for her to join me, marveling that it was likely the last time I’d be here.
“What happened?” she asked again as she settled next to me in the car.
I wasn’t altogether sure how to go about explaining everything that’d led me to this moment or whether I even had to. Maybe that didn’t matter either. Maybe all that mattered was me and her and what I was feeling right now, which was unbelievably free.
I grinned at her and pushed my hair back out of my eyes, enjoying the tingling feeling spreading throughout my body. A laugh was bubbling up inside me, and for a split second, I thought about holding it back but couldn’t come up with a good justification for keeping it in. So I let it roll out. After so much anger and pain, it felt fantastic to laugh like that, even if it was for no reason I could articulate.
During the entire ride down to the ground level I laughed, and the entire ride down Allison looked at me like I’d lost my mind. Tears welled up in my eyes, and my sides started to hurt, but still I laughed, and still she watched.
When we reached the lobby, my guffaws subsided until they were tiny chuckles as we made our way out onto the street together. Allison didn’t say anything until our feet hit the sidewalk. Then she put a hand on my arm to stop me before I could hail a taxi.
I turned to face her and studied her serious expression, smiling at how beautiful she was. I really wanted to kiss her, but the fear that I might soon register as H
IV positive made me pause. I might’ve been ready to upend my own life on a whim, but I wasn’t prepared to do it to somebody else. I settled for smiling at her.
“What?” I asked when she didn’t speak.
“Are you okay?”
There was more to her question than her words suggested, but I wasn’t in the mood to get into a conversation at the moment. I needed to get back to the hospital, and I needed to call my mom. Later, we could delve into everything her tone suggested she wanted to know. For now, I went with the simplest and most accurate answer I could think of.
“I’m perfect.”
About the Author
Kara A. McLeod is a badass by day and a smart-ass by night. Or maybe it’s the other way around. Or quite possibly neither. A Jersey girl at heart, “Mac” is an intrepid wanderer who goes wherever the wind takes her. A former Secret Service agent who decided she wanted more out of life than standing in a stairwell and losing an entire month every year to the United Nations General Assembly, she currently resides in Colorado and is still searching hither and yon for the meaning of life, the nearest Comic Con, and the best deal on a flight to London.
If anyone has any leads on any of the above, she can be contacted at [email protected].
Books Available From Bold Strokes Books
Between Sand and Stardust by Tina Michele. Are the lifelong bonds of love strong enough to conquer time, distance, and heartache when Haven Thorne and Willa Bennette are given another chance at forever? (978-1-62639-940-2)
Charming the Vicar by Jenny Frame. When magician and atheist Finn Kane seeks refuge in an English village after a spiritual crisis, can local vicar Bridget Claremont restore her faith in life and love? (978-1-63555-029-0)
Data Capture by Jesse J. Thoma. Lola Walker is undercover on the hunt for cybercriminals while trying not to notice the woman who might be perfectly wrong for her for all the right reasons. (978-1-62639-985-3)
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