“She does fine in class,” Lucy said.
“How do you know?” Reva said. “She never talks.”
Oz picked up his tray. “If Mohammed doesn’t go to the mountain—” He looked around at the group.
Lucy stood up with her tray. “If we all go over, we’ll overwhelm her. I think she has social anxiety, and the crowd will make her more nervous.”
“Good luck,” Reva said without confidence.
Oz led the way to where Alexis sat alone. She looked up at him and Lucy, and Lucy wondered if it was anger or fear that crossed her face. “Mind if we sit?” Oz sat before Alexis could answer. He downed his milk.
“We wanted you to know you’re always welcome to eat with us,” Lucy said.
“Thanks,” Alexis said quietly, focused on her food.
Oz said, “Gordon, our resident gun expert, said he can train anyone to shoot.”
“And I need it?” she said defensively.
“Yes,” Lucy said, “and you know it. Why won’t you take the offer?”
“I’m not like everyone else. I never touched a gun before I came here.”
“But you knew you’d have to, right?”
“I didn’t think about it,” she admitted. “I don’t fit in.”
“Obviously the FBI recruiters thought you did, otherwise you wouldn’t have made it this far,” Oz said.
Alexis didn’t meet their eyes. “I appreciate the effort, but it’s not a good time for me.”
“Did something happen?” Lucy asked. When Alexis didn’t say anything, Lucy added, “Something at home? You’re married, right?”
Her eyes watered. “How’d you know?”
“Good guess.” It made sense. If there were stresses at home, maybe Alexis’s way of dealing with it was to shut down.
“I missed my daughter’s fourth birthday last week. And I started wondering why I’m here. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now?”
“You’ll get through this,” Lucy said. “We want to help.”
Now that Alexis had opened up, she let it all pour out. “There’s only four other new agents who have kids, and all are guys,” Alexis said. “It’s different being a mother. My husband wanted me to wait until Missy was in school, but I’m thirty-two. The physical training is hard enough now.”
“Where do you live?” Oz asked.
“Colorado. Not easy to go home for the weekend. I have a ticket in October, but I can’t stop thinking about Missy and Carl. And Carl has a full-time job, so Missy is spending more time with his mom, which is just great because she hates me enough already. What if my daughter hates me when I return?”
“She won’t,” Oz said.
“Do you have Skype?” Lucy asked.
She shook her head. “I’ve heard of it.”
“Right after we’re done today, if you want, I can download it to your computer and show you how to use it. Maybe if you see Missy instead of just talking to her it’ll make separation easier. I can walk your husband through it as well.”
“He’s much more technically savvy than I am.” Alexis smiled for the first time that Lucy had known her. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’ve been such a pill.”
Lucy laughed. “It’s been an adjustment for everyone. You know, Carter Nix has two girls and it’s hard on him as well. You’re not alone.”
Oz said, “Now, will you please take Gordon up on his offer to work with you? I promise, you won’t regret it.”
*
The last two hours of weapons training were almost as difficult as the first two, but in the end Agent Kosako said, “Good work.” Praise was sparse at Quantico, and it meant something coming from him.
Lucy walked with Alexis to her room and set up Skype on her computer. She wasn’t certain it was the solution to the problem, but at least she felt that she’d done something to help the new agent get through these difficult months.
“You ready to see your daughter?” Lucy asked.
“Do it,” Alexis said. “Wait—give me a minute.”
“You call when you’re ready. Just click here, then here. The computer on the other end will show that there’s an incoming Skype call.”
“Thank you—I really mean it. Thank you.”
She was glad she’d taken the time to help Alexis. No one wanted anyone in their class to be booted, and Lucy hoped this temporary solution would help Alexis and her family.
Lucy packed her overnight bag and called Sean, letting him know she was free until 6:00 p.m. on Sunday. He was already on his way. She needed the night off, to get away and clear her head.
She left her room and crossed the courtyard to the main building, but before she reached the security wing she found Rich Laughlin standing, as if waiting for her.
Of course that had to be her imagination.
“Kincaid,” he said with a nod. “Finding Agent Presidio like that must have been difficult for you.”
Kindness? From Laughlin?
“He was a terrific teacher. I’m going to miss—”
Laughlin cut her off. “He took a special interest in you. Why do you think that was?”
Lucy didn’t know the purpose of Laughlin’s question but she replied, “Maybe a kinship, since I’m the only new agent here with a master’s in criminal psychology.”
“That’s right—I forgot you were a psychologist.”
Lucy doubted that was the case.
“I figured because he and Chief Vigo were such good friends that Presidio was assessing you.”
“You said yourself opening day that all staff were constantly assessing new agents; never let our guard down, right?” She tried to speak lightly, but she intently monitored manner. There was something odd in his demeanor, an intensity that seemed unwarranted.
“Yes, I did. Keeps you all on your toes. But I think you know what I meant.”
Lucy didn’t, and she called him on it. “Agent Laughlin, I don’t know what you mean. I don’t understand what I did to irritate you. If you clue me in, I’ll fix it.”
“Maybe you want this too much. I just have to ask myself why.”
“Why I want to be an FBI agent?”
“Why you want it so badly.”
His pale eyes didn’t leave hers, and if this was a test, he was the perfect person to throw her off-kilter. But she stood her ground. Laughlin was essentially a bully, and bullies wanted their victims to cower. Lucy refused to let him make her a victim.
“Maybe I did before,” she said, looking him straight in the eye, “but not now. If something happens and I’m forced to leave, I have other options.” She wanted this because she’d been working toward becoming an FBI agent for the last seven years. Though the why was different now from when she first made the decision, it was no less important to her. And no way was she discussing her reasons with a man who disliked her.
“Leave? You’re a shoo-in.”
He scowled, and Lucy realized he knew something she didn’t, something that he wanted her to know. Every instinct in her body told her to smile and walk away, but she couldn’t.
She needed the truth.
“Shoo-in? Hardly. Though there is a ninety percent graduation rate, so I think the odds are in my favor.”
“The odds are stacked in your favor. But you know that.”
The truth suddenly shone through, and Lucy was almost relieved. It explained why Kate and Laughlin were arguing the other day. If Laughlin and Kate had a past during the first Adam Scott investigation, he would hate that Kate might have the power to get people privileges in the Bureau.
“I think you misunderstood. My sister-in-law didn’t pull strings for me. I told her I wanted to be here on my own merits, and she honored my request. I earned this slot. You can ask her.”
He tilted his head, a half smile on his face, but it wasn’t friendly. She was the canary; he was the cat.
“You can’t honestly tell me you didn’t know that both hiring panels rejected your application. Assistant Director Vigo himself steppe
d in and overruled them. Most of the new agents here are relatively anonymous; you already had a history when you arrived. Don’t be surprised if other people know exactly what I do.” He stepped toward her, only inches from her. It was almost impossible not to step back, but she forced herself to hold her ground.
Laughlin continued. “You got here because the powers that be want you here, not because you earned it.”
*
All Lucy had wanted was to do this on her own. To prove to her family, but mostly to herself, that she’d earned this spot in the Bureau. That the FBI would want her because not only was she a good investigator but also she had suffered and now was whole.
She walked to the tree-lined clearing on the far side of Hogan’s Alley, hoping to clear her head and think about what she should do, but she couldn’t focus through an overwhelming feeling of betrayal, of being lied to by the people she trusted most.
She sat on the fallen log and looked up through the center of the trees to the sky, wishing for answers but not even knowing what questions to ask.
Was this why Kate hadn’t told her the truth about her confrontation with Laughlin the other day? Did Kate know what Hans had done and didn’t want Laughlin to tell her?
In the past, secrets had nearly torn apart the Kincaids because her family wanted to protect her from some hard truths. And while Lucy had understood and loved her family for wanting to spare her, she also knew that secrets were dangerous and they could just as easily destroy as protect. Kate had promised to be honest with her, to not keep things hidden under the auspice of protecting her feelings. Lucy was strong enough—she was a survivor.
Lucy didn’t understand what Laughlin’s endgame was. He didn’t hate Lucy just because Hans got her into the Academy; it had to go deeper than that. Something bad in Laughlin’s background that she personified. She was a lightning rod for a wrong he hadn’t been able to fix. And she had no doubt that between the two of them she and Sean would figure out why Laughlin had put Lucy in his sights.
But that didn’t change the facts.
She suspected that the first panel that had denied her application had done so because she’d helped put a former FBI agent in prison for life for spearheading a vigilante group who targeted sex offenders. The actions that led up to the imprisonment of her mentor and former friend had shaken her, so she let herself believe that it was her own psychology and doubts that had screwed up the first panel.
In the middle of the hiring process, she’d learned to trust herself and trust her instincts. It was still hard sometimes to rely on her intuition and experience because of her youth and her past, but maybe it was because of the same fresh outlook and tragedy that she’d developed a unique skill set. When she’d appealed the decision and was granted a second panel interview, she’d gone in knowing that if the FBI rejected her again she would be okay. For the first time in years she could see a future without her long-held dream of being in the FBI. She believed that change in attitude had given her the edge with the second panel, which had approved her application. Getting past that panel had been the last in a long line of hurdles.
Maybe she’d been wrong and her involvement in taking down the vigilante group hadn’t been the primary reason for being denied. Did they distrust her sanity? For a long time, Lucy had questioned her pathologies. Whether her lack of remorse for killing her rapist showed a disconnect from humanity. She had told both panels, when asked, that today she would have done the same thing in the same situation.
And they didn’t even know everything. People close to her had buried the truth—that Adam Scott hadn’t been armed when she shot him at point-blank range. That she’d known her brother was safe when she pulled the trigger six times, each .357 bullet hitting Scott in the chest. She killed Adam Scott because he was an evil murderer who raped and tortured women for his sick pleasure. And while she’d convinced most people that she didn’t remember most of what happened that fateful day seven years ago, she remembered every second. Everything: the smell of fear, the feel of the revolver, the shock on Scott’s face when she shot him.
The second time she’d killed a man was to save Sean’s life, as well as her own. She didn’t regret that decision, either. Any hesitation and Sean would have been dead. She realized then, though she hadn’t articulated it, that when threatened she went into a different mode, a different mind-set. She became both survivor and predator. She didn’t like it, but at the same time she counted on self-preservation to protect her. It was like the flip of a switch, and she would do anything to save herself and those she loved.
Whether because they didn’t trust her psychological makeup or because she’d killed two men to save her life, it didn’t truly matter. What mattered was someone stepped in and gave her what she wanted when she hadn’t earned it.
She kicked the log. Dammit, she had earned it!
What more did anyone want from her? She’d proven she was physically capable, emotionally stable, and intelligent. She should be here. She deserved to be here. So why did she feel like her heart had been ripped out of her chest? Why did she want to walk away and never look back?
Laughlin told you what Hans did because he wanted to hurt you.
Intellectually, she knew that. She wanted to think logically, to put aside her emotions and move forward. She could dismiss Laughlin’s motives much more easily than she could dismiss Hans Vigo manipulating her life. If anyone had the authority to overturn the decision of a hiring panel, it was Hans. For the last several years he’d worked out of national headquarters with Assistant Director Rick Stockton, arguably the most powerful man in the FBI other than the director. Possibly the most powerful man behind the scenes.
That meant something. That someone of Hans’s stature and position thought she deserved to be here meant she should be here.
Then why couldn’t she shake the feeling that it was bordering on nepotism? That no one she worked with would truly trust her and that she’d be constantly trying to prove herself to her colleagues. She grew weary just thinking about constantly being assessed and analyzed and doubted.
And in the end, she wanted to be here without favors, without special privileges.
Lucy’s phone rang. “Hi, Sean.”
“I’m at the desk.”
“Give me five minutes. I have to do something.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you.” She hung up and walked back to the main building, then down to the basement.
Hans was still in Tony’s office.
“I thought you’d left,” he said.
“Sean’s waiting for me.”
How she managed to keep her voice calm she didn’t know. She didn’t even know why she’d come down here to confront Hans.
Except she had to know the truth; she wasn’t going to take Laughlin’s word as gospel.
“Did you overrule my hiring panel?”
“Who told you that?”
“Am I here illegitimately?”
Hans didn’t say anything, and Lucy knew it meant that Laughlin hadn’t lied. Her chest tightened with a vise of pain, regret, and betrayal. And anger.
“How could you?”
“You’re supposed to be here, Lucy.”
“You’re the only one who thinks so.”
“You never understood what you were up against with the panels.”
“I never wanted you, or anyone, to pull strings.”
“The odds were stacked against you. All I did was level the field.”
“You overruled the panel!”
“No one knows that.”
She laughed bitterly. “Someone does.”
He didn’t say anything.
“I thought you were my friend, Hans.”
Hans rose from behind the desk. He leaned forward, palms up. “I am your friend.”
“A true friend would let me succeed or fail on my own merits. I don’t want be an FBI agent if cheating is the only way I can be here. Yes, I earned this. Yes,
I deserve to be here, but if no one else thinks so, I don’t want it.”
She reached into her purse and took out her wallet. She didn’t have a badge or gun to turn in, but she had her new-agent ID.
Hans grabbed her wrist when she held the ID out to him. “Don’t be rash.”
“Let go.”
He didn’t. “When you helped put Fran in prison, you made enemies. You knew that would happen. Getting a fair panel at that time would have been next to impossible.”
“I don’t want this anymore.”
“Yes, you do!”
“Don’t tell me what I want or don’t want.” Lucy’s chest heaved. She would not cry. The tears that were threatening weren’t sadness but anger, a rage she’d never quite felt before. Not like this. She’d felt fear, and panic, and regret, but not this fury of being manipulated and used, made worse because it was someone she had respected. “Who knew? Kate? Dillon?”
Hans shook his head. “Assistant Director Stockton agreed with me, and we were the only two who knew, other than the panels. Who told you? We may have a security problem.”
“It’s not my problem.” She jerked her hand free and dropped her ID on the desk.
“I’m not accepting this. Think about it over the weekend.”
She shook her head. “I trusted you.”
Lucy walked out. She didn’t know if she’d return.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Sean knew something was very wrong as soon as Lucy slid into the passenger seat of his Mustang. But she didn’t talk about it. With Lucy, it had to be on her terms. He tried to engage her in conversation, but she was only half-listening.
“We’re going to New York,” Sean finally said.
“Sure,” Lucy said.
“And we won’t be back for a week, but I’m sure that’ll be fine with your superiors.” He glanced at her. She was still looking out the window, oblivious to his joke.
“Sure,” she said. Then she looked at him. “What are you doing?”
“You’re lost in a world that doesn’t look very fun.”
“Hans pulled strings to get me into Quantico.”
Sean froze. How had she found out? Had Hans told her?
Lucy continued. “They didn’t deem me fit for the FBI, and when Hans found out he overruled their decision. Both hiring panels rejected my application. I should never have been admitted.”
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