Painted Walls

by Megan Mitcham

  “Weren’t y’all just there?” Keen hitched a brow.

  “This isn’t your concern, Hunt,” Lara added.

  He chuckled, but soon it turned into an all-out laugh.

  All three of them looked at him with slacked faces and high brows.

  “What?” Abbott sneered.

  “You know, Hunt and cunt rhyme?” He put a hand over his aching abs and giggled some more.

  “Put her in the car,” Abbott ordered.

  “Why are they taking you in?” he asked Ava.

  “They have another victim,” she grimaced. “Can you find out who it is? I can’t handle another surprise like that.” Winslow wrestled her into the back of their SUV, but she ducked her head around him. “Call Beaumont to meet me at headquarters. I want a lawyer.”

  He shifted to get closer to the 4Runner parked on the opposite side of the door from him, but Lara stepped in his path. “I’ll do it,” he hollered.

  “You’re such a loyal dog, to her at least.” Lara grinned.

  “I never slept with that girl,” Keen whispered. “I didn’t even feel her up. I just needed you to see me with someone, so you’d be pissed enough to leave me alone. Our situation needed to end for both our sakes, but you wouldn’t listen. I am sorry if I hurt you.”

  “Ever heard the expression too little, too late?” she whispered back.

  “It’s all I have to offer.” His lips compressed and he shrugged.

  Lara shook her head. “You’re offering it for her benefit.”

  “I’m offering it because I was immature and…I don’t know…”

  “Damaged goods?” she supplied.

  “Yeah,” Keen agreed.

  “We both were. Damaged and immature.” Lara didn’t apologize, but he figured it was the closest thing to it he’d ever get from her. She averted her gaze. “But it doesn’t mean I’m going to let you in on our investigation.”

  “It’s a witch hunt.”

  “We have her hair.”

  “Do you have anything else?”

  “We don’t need anything else.”

  The SUV’s engine roared to life. Lara ran to the car without another word. The black beast lit off the curve with enough extra juice it revved Keen’s competitive side. He ran to the open door of the rental and dove inside. One rolled-through stop sign and several miles over the speed limit later he caught sight of them a block ahead.

  Her best friend’s sister. They could have told her. They should’ve told her. Whoever killed these people and framed Ava wasn’t doing it because of some legacy. They did it to shatter her.

  Keen grabbed his phone and called the number Mrs. Shepherd used when they spoke earlier.

  Preston Shepherd answered after the first ring. “Is Ava okay?”

  “She just told the investigators to go fuck themselves. So, I’d say she’s holding up.” He left out the bit about the tears and her bestie’s sister being the victim.

  “I’d say. She sounds like her mother talking to the ticket lady at the airline. We’re stuck here for a day longer, at least. Maybe forever the way Sarah cut into that woman.”

  “Preston, I need you to have Beaumont meet Ava back at headquarters immediately.”

  “He told me earlier that they finished questioning her.”

  “They’re bringing her back in for more.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s another body.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Preston yelled.

  “I don’t really think this is his territory.”

  “I’ll call him right now,” Preston said before ending the call.

  Keen caught a light at the next intersection. Had the patrol cop not been rolling past a pair of teenagers who had no business being out so late he’d have blown through it without blinking. Ten minutes later he pulled into the deserted parking garage and eased through until he found the black 4Runner with the sticker on the back window of a screaming gorilla pressing a bar stacked with plates. Like people couldn’t look at Winslow and tell he had a close personal relationship with his gym.

  “Right.”

  He pulled in next to the mute gym rat’s car, grabbed his phone, and opened the door. Headlights crossed Keen’s field of vision momentarily blinding him.

  A sleek 1967 Corvette Coupe rumbled to a stop two spaces away. The shiny black paint, chrome trim and wheels gleamed in the florescent light. Its driver cut the engine and stepped out.

  Keen stood and locked his rental. “How’d you get here so fast?”

  “I was at the office two blocks away.”

  “Next question. How in the hell does a defense lawyer have such amazing taste in cars?”

  Beaumont adjusted the same tie he’d had on earlier, secured his car, and then matched his steady steps heading for the elevator. “I had a thing for putting together model cars as a kid. When I got old enough I wanted a real one.”

  “Do you work on it?”

  “No, but one day I’d like to learn.”

  “All you need is a service manual and a garage full of tools.”

  “I’d be afraid to mess her up.”

  “You will, but you two will eventually come to an understanding.”

  “I may have called you a grease monkey because I’m a little envious.”

  “Or you may have called me a grease monkey because I was acting like an asshole.”

  “There’s that too.” He pressed the down button on the elevator. “Any idea who the newest victim is?”

  “No, I’m working on it.”

  “You have contacts on the inside—”

  “Which I won’t talk about to you or anyone else.”

  “I don't want you to rat them out. I just want to know you’re willing to go the extra mile to help.”

  “There’s not much I wouldn’t do to help her.”

  “Good.”

  “I just need to break into an office and commandeer a computer.”

  “Try the second floor…” Beaumont squinted. “First door on the left. Name plate Rachel Canna. Access code 1980.” When Keen raised both brows he added, “We shared lunch a few times.”

  “In her office?”

  “With the blinds closed. Don’t ask.”

  Keen offered his palms. “I was just admiring the security of our fine headquarters.”

  “You were going to break in.”

  “True.” They stepped onto the elevator and Keen pressed the button for the lobby. “She doesn’t want to answer any questions and she requested her attorney.”

  “Ava Shepherd?”

  “She’s pissed. When she gets pissed all bets are off. The first victim is her best friend’s sister and they didn’t tell her. They’re not giving. Make sure she doesn’t give. And don’t leave without me.”

  “We won’t. After we left I did some research on you. I think you’re what Ava needs to get out from under this thing.”

  They hit the lobby at a brisk pace and made it through security with minimal hassle. Keen headed for the stairs while Beaumont veered toward the building’s main elevators.

  “If you get her out before I’m done, meet me at your old stomping ground. If I get done first, I’ll see you outside interrogation.”

  Beaumont nodded. “Good luck.”

  “To us all.”

  “I’M DRIVING her home and you’re not going to argue with me on this.” Keen said after Ava disappeared behind the bathroom door in the lobby of FBI headquarters.

  “I’m not?” Beaumont frowned.

  “No.”

  “It’s what people pay me to do, especially at…” He paused to look at his Rolex. “Especially at three o’clock in the morning. So, why am I not going to argue?”

  “I need more time to read the original Hardy file, but I think I know how to get her out of this.”

  “Just like that?” Beaumont leaned his shoulders against the wall.

  “It’s a hunch, but after three bullet holes I’ve learned not to question my gut.”

  �
��Maybe your gut needs to speed its alert process.” He twirled his fingers around in a circle, and then tugged on the knot of his tie.

  “It told me in plenty of time. I just didn’t listen.”

  “So what in those files is going to get her out of this?”

  “You don’t want to know.” Keen switched the thick stack of papers into his right hand.

  “Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” Beaumont snapped the end of the tie through his collar and stuffed it into his pocket.

  “The clues are in these files, but I’ll have to dig elsewhere for the answers.”

  The man’s strong jaw waggled back and forth. “You’re right. I don’t want to know. I would like to know about your and Ava’s history together.”

  “Tough shit.”

  The bathroom door opened. Both men straightened and turned to Ava.

  “Okay then.” Beaumont shifted his briefcase. “Ava, I think you should let Special Agent Hunt drive you home.”

  “All right.” Her head shook so emphatically it looked more like a tremor. “Let’s go.” She swiveled and marched toward the exit.

  “That was way too easy,” Keen said.

  The first hint of a laugh rumbled from Beaumont. “I figured you were going to have to follow through on that hog tying threat.”

  “Ya’ll are hilarious. Now come on.” Ava coaxed them with a hand.

  “I’m going to go back upstairs and pester Lara, try and stall that warrant.” Beaumont walked backward in the general direction of the elevators. “As it is they probably won’t be able to get it until lunch or later tomorrow, but every bit helps.”

  “Thank you,” the befuddling red head called out over her shoulder and kept walking.

  Keen touched his brow with two fingers and took out after Ava.

  “Keep me informed, Hunt.” Beaumont’s words echoed through the open space.

  “But not too informed,” Keen said.

  That earned him a curious look from Ava, but she didn’t break pace. After seeing him on the move she actually picked it up several beats.

  “Will you slow down?”

  “Will you come on.” She blew through the turnstiles and then out the front door only slowing when she slammed the call button for the elevator. “I thought field agents had to pass a more strenuous test than us desk jockeys?”

  “Extended time in a hospital bed puts a hurting on stamina. Not to mention all the blood loss.”

  Ava really looked at him for the first time. The elevator arrived and they stepped in together. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think…”

  “I’m not an invalid. I just pushed a little too hard yesterday.” He pressed the button that would bring them to his rental.

  “You would.”

  Keen grabbed the back of his neck and squeezed. Of all the times for her to bring up old stuff, this was the worst.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” she whispered. “I just meant you don’t take it easy on yourself. You hold yourself to a higher standard than anyone else would hold you to. Darndest thing is you usually hit your mark and make the rest of us look like slackers.”

  “Says the woman who’s put away over forty serial sons of bitches.”

  “Who’s now in a class among them.” As soon as the doors opened she rushed out. “What are you driving?”

  “That white piece of crap.” He pointed to the sedan.

  “It’s a brand new car.”

  “Yep.” Keen unlocked the car. They got in and buckled up. “Look at this thing. It doesn’t even have a key.”

  “It’s called technology.”

  “Or an abomination.” Keen shoved the files between his seat and the door.

  “What are those?”

  The sedan whined as he backed it out of the space and headed down the ramp. “The Blood Red Copycat file.”

  “What?” she gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I just did.”

  “Earlier.”

  “I got them while you were in interrogation.”

  “How?”

  “I can’t tell you,” he said simply.

  “I want to see them.”

  “I want you to tell me why you’re in such a hurry to get to your apartment.”

  She hesitated. “If you’d just been questioned by the Bureau, wouldn’t you be in a hurry to leave if they let you?”

  “Nice deflection.” Keen flipped the turn signal and wheeled onto the main thoroughfare.

  “You deflected first.” Ava grabbed a ponytail holder from somewhere, fought her hair into a pile on the top of her head, and secured it.

  “Where’d you find that holder?”

  “On the floor.”

  “Are you worried about cooties?”

  “Bigger problems here.” She rolled her beautiful eyes and sighed. “I want to see the file.”

  “And you can. Just not tonight.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because you’re holding on by a thread and I’m not ready for your free fall, and neither are you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Look at your hands.”

  Slowly she lowered her head. Her hands vibrated like an eight-point earthquake rocked the ground. Ava balled them into fists, and then straightened her fingers. The quiver remained. She stuffed them under her legs. “Shit.”

  Her shredded voice cut right through him.

  He needed to get her talking. “Did they tell you the name of the second victim?”

  She didn’t respond for several seconds. When seconds stretched into a minute Keen shifted his gaze. Ava stared at her quaking hands without seeing them.

  “Ava?”

  “What?” Her gaze lifted to his.

  “Did they tell you the name of the second victim?”

  “No.”

  “Not even with all your swearing?”

  She half scoffed, half laughed. He considered it a major win.

  “I’ve never talked to anyone like that. Never screamed like that either. I couldn’t stop myself.”

  “It was bound to happen. You can’t keep everything so bottled up. Eventually the top pops off and wham.”

  “Oh, God!”

  Keen’s gaze whipped left to right, and then back to front. He didn’t see an impending collision. “What is it?”

  “What if I snapped, had a mental break, and went on a killing spree?”

  “That is the stupidest thing I’ve heard all day, and I’ve heard things that topped crazy today. The first of them being that you murdered someone. Why would you say that?”

  “Just forget it.”

  “Not likely.”

  “Take this right. It’ll cut out three minutes. Maybe five with no traffic.”

  “That ready to get away, huh?”

  When she didn’t speak he decided to keep his mouth shut. She had plenty to deal with and didn’t need his shit added to it. He veered right like she suggested. Three minutes later they pulled into the spot where Lara and Winslow had parked to take her away.

  “I appreciate what you’ve done for me. I’m sorry my mom made you come all this way. I’d hoped she wouldn’t bother you, but I should’ve known better than to waste my breath with her.”

  “She’s worried about you.”

  “She has a lot of guilt from before, but it wasn’t her fault.”

  “It wasn’t yours either. It isn’t now.”

  “Huh.”

  Ava’s finger wrapped around the handle and pulled. They didn’t shake as much as they had, but she still wouldn’t want to apply makeup. Not that she needed any. He climbed out of the car with the file in tow and met her at the front door.

  “You don’t have to walk me in.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders relaxed and she nearly smiled. “Then goodnight.”

  He grinned, opened the door, and walked in ahead of her.

  “You said you weren’t walking me in,” she whispered as loudly as her regular talk
ing voice.

  They looked to see if they’d drawn an audience, but no one lingered in the entry. The night watchman had deserted his post.

  Keen continued walking. “I’m not. I’m coming up.”

  “No, you’re not.” Her hips waggled with her rushed steps, trying to keep up with him for a change.

  The stairwell door creaked under his hand. When he pulled it wide she dipped around him, much like she’d done to Winslow, and barricaded the walkway with her body.

  His gaze sank into hers. At this distance the broken blood vessels in her eyes looked like tiny bomb blasts. More disheartening, the fractures of brown that defined her green eyes pulled him under like they used to. “If you think I flew hundreds of miles to drive you from an interrogation room to your condo, you really aren’t as smart as I’ve given you credit for being. For starters, we need to talk about the case they have against you.”

  A huge sigh escaped her lips. It tickled and warmed his neck.

  “I’m exhausted. I’m in shock. I can’t even function. I…”

  “Then we’ll talk in the morning,” he agreed.

  She perked up a little with a stern gesture toward the open door. “Then I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He ducked under her arm and started up the stairs. “That’s for sure.”

  When he reached the main door of her apartment she freaked. Her hands and voice trilled. “You can’t stay here! I don’t have a guest room. I...”

  Keen cupped the tops of her shoulders.

  Her gasp quieted her argument.

  “I’m not trying to get in your pants, Ava. I’ll sleep on the couch. Just go into your room, close and lock the door, if it makes you feel better. You need some sleep.”

  “I don’t have a bedroom door. The bedroom and living area are one and the same.”

  “Do you have a bathroom?”

  Her chin bobbed.

  “Then change in it, and if you sleep in the nude I promise not to peek for more than ten seconds.” He turned her toward the door and gave her a little shove.

  “Just come back in a few hours.”

  “Fine, but you won’t get to see the files.”

  Her mouth gaped, and then snapped shut. “You weren’t going to let me see them tonight anyway.”

  “Right, but I was going to let you see them eventually.”

  Ava stood rigid for a second, and then her forehead bumped into the door with a thud. “I’m not getting rid of you, am I?”