Shattered

by Allison Brennan

  “I’ll take the desk.”

  Tim Nelson turned in to the doorway. “You gotta see what’s in the garage.”

  Lucy and Ken followed him out the back door. An officer guarded the door, and another was standing by the side door into the small, detached garage. The lone window had been blacked out.

  The garage was set up as a war room—one wall were photos of Kevin Fieldstone and his parents. Kevin with his grandmother after school. Kevin going into his house. Kevin playing on the playground at school.

  Pictures of the Fieldstone house. Of Nina at work. Of Tony at a party. Of another woman, older, blond, pretty. Of Tony and the woman in bed.

  Of Nina and a woman in bed.

  Hundreds of photos, all printed at home on photo paper. A computer stood in the corner of a workplace. A color printer next to it.

  Lucy turned and couldn’t stop herself from gasping.

  The other wall had photos of Danielle’s previous victims and their families. A stalker’s paradise. Photos of people having sex, but it was clear they were taken either through a Web camera or a zoom lens. Lucy grew increasingly uncomfortable, and then she recognized a much younger Andrew. Andrew with Nelia. Andrew with Justin. Andrew naked in bed with another woman.

  Lucy couldn’t process any more when her gaze rested on a photo of her and Justin nearly twenty years ago. Playing at the park where Justin had been buried.

  She heard Tim and Ken talking, but didn’t hear any words.

  She remembered that day vividly. She didn’t realize how vividly until now—it had been the last time she’d seen Justin alive. The day he died.

  * * *

  Lucy sat in the sand and pushed the grains back and forth with her shovel. She didn’t feel good, her stomach hurt and her head hurt and she just wanted to go home.

  Justin plopped down next to her. “Wanna play tag?”

  “No.”

  “Climb trees?”

  “No.”

  “Ask Santa for Christmas presents?”

  She looked up at him and wrinkled her nose. “It’s June, months before Christmas.”

  “I’m gonna ask Santa for a Nintendo. Or a Game Boy. I don’t know which one’s better. But if I got a Nintendo we could play together.”

  “You should ask Patrick. He plays video games all the time. He knows about those things. He’s really smart.”

  “Uncle Patrick said he’d help coach my baseball team. Isn’t that great? He said he’d come to at least one practice a week and help with batting. He had a three-sixty batting average last year. Daddy said he’ll probably get a major league contract when he graduates if he keeps it up. Wouldn’t that be cool? If he plays for the Padres? And we can get free season tickets? They do that, right? Give the players free tickets for their family?”

  “I’d think they would,” Lucy said. She sighed.

  “Hey, are you okay, LuLu?”

  “I feel sick. But don’t tell my mom, because she’ll tell your mom and you’ll have to go home.”

  “Grandma calls my mom nervous Nellie.” Justin giggled. “Nellie, because her name is Nelia.”

  “I think it’s an expression,” Lucy said. “I’ve heard it before.”

  “I think it’s funny.”

  “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “I really want to go home, but I don’t want my mom to know I don’t feel good because then she won’t let me go swimming tomorrow. I don’t want to be stuck inside all day. But if you tell her you’re hungry or something, she’ll take us home.”

  “You look green.”

  “Do not.”

  On the way home from the park, Lucy threw up in the bushes and started crying, and when they got home her mom took her temperature and it was 102. When Nelia called to say she was going to be late, Lucy’s mom mentioned in passing that Lucy was sick and in bed. Nelia asked Carina to pick up Justin and watch him.

  And that was the last time Lucy had seen her nephew—her best friend—alive.

  * * *

  “Lucy, you okay?”

  Ken was right behind her.

  “Do you see something important?”

  Lucy cleared her throat and squeezed her eyes shut. “I—dammit.”

  She stepped out of the garage. She had to, her emotions were so overwhelming she almost didn’t know how to process them. It was dark; at some point the sun had set and only a faint blue was evident in the west.

  She sat down on the ground and put her head between her legs. She didn’t even know how she felt. Rage? She had it. Sorrow? Yes, in spades. And helpless. Absolutely helpless, and she didn’t know why.

  She felt seven again.

  She didn’t know how long she sat there, but Ken came for her. “We can’t get into her computer. Nelson is calling in the cybersquad. There may be something that tells us where she went.”

  “Did you find a gun?”

  “No.”

  “She’s going after the Fieldstones.”

  “I just got off the phone with the two agents sitting on them. They took them home—they have an alarm system. All’s clear. They’re sitting out front keeping an eye on the place.”

  “She has a plan. Something tipped her off—her ex-husband talking to her, seeing the agents pick up Kevin this morning. She’s circling around. You saw her den, and this … this obsession. How long until we get into her computer?”

  “Hour, maybe two. I don’t have an estimated time when the ERT unit will be here.”

  “I’d like to call an expert.”

  “Your husband.”

  “He’s worked with the FBI before, and we have a warrant to get into her computer.”

  “He’s in San Diego, right?”

  “He can do it remotely—I’m almost positive.”

  “Call him.”

  * * *

  Lucy had Sean on speaker. He walked her through which cable to use to connect her phone to Danielle’s computer so he could hack into the hard drive. In less than five minutes, he’d opened her computer up to the FBI.

  “That’s pretty damn amazing,” Ken said to Sean.

  “Thank you,” Sean said. “What are you looking for specifically?”

  “Any clue as to where she is now,” Ken said.

  “Search histories? Purchases?”

  “We have the airports alerted, but it would help if we knew if she bought a ticket. Does she have a cloud account and if so when was the last time she uploaded anything?”

  “Not bad, Swan,” Sean said.

  As they watched, the computer screen flipped through a bunch of programs and suddenly photos scrolled across the page. Lucy saw one of the two agents with Kevin.

  “Stop, Sean.”

  Ken said, “Well, shit, she was outside the grandmother’s house.”

  “She saw the agents. They may have been discreet, but she knew.”

  “Good news, bad news,” Sean said. “I can tell you that her phone is not operational—it’s set to sync with her cloud account every hour, and the last time it pinged was at four.”

  “She called her husband at about four forty,” Lucy said.

  “That’s an hour after these photos were taken. She called her husband? Okay, hold on a sec.”

  The screen shifted and Sean was working within the operating system. A minute later a map popped up. “She made the call to her husband within a thousand feet of this point.”

  “You didn’t hack—” Ken began.

  “No, because she syncs her entire phone to her cloud account, which is cloned on her hard drive. All the data gets copied over. You just have to know where to look, then convert the code.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “It’s why I get paid the big bucks,” Sean said.

  Lucy zoomed in on the map. “Ken, that’s the Fieldstones’ neighborhood, and their house is in the middle of that circle. We have to get over there, she’s watching them.”

  “Thanks, Rogan, appreciate the help,” Ken said.
“You can write this all up for my report, right?”

  “I know what you need. Lucy? You can disconnect your phone—I removed all security protocols on Sharpe’s computer so that your people can dig deeper.”

  Lucy picked up her phone and took Sean off speaker. “I have to go.”

  “Be careful. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  * * *

  Max was duly impressed with Sean Rogan. They’d been sitting in the lounge for the last four hours alternatively working on their respective laptops and talking. She hadn’t been able to get him to say much about Lucy personally, though he shared a few stories. Didn’t give Max much insight into what exactly made these two people tick, but she enjoyed them. Sean didn’t repeat the warning he issued on Thursday, which Max respected. He didn’t treat her like an idiot.

  When he hung up with Lucy, she said, “You’re really good.”

  “I know.”

  She laughed. She appreciated well-placed confidence. “Do you work often with the FBI? Private consultant?”

  “When they need me.”

  “How close are they?”

  “Close.”

  “You’re worried about Lucy. She seems to be a woman who can take care of herself.”

  “I am, and she is.” Sean stared at her, as if trying to read her intentions. “Lucy trusts you. Why, I have no idea, but she does.”

  That only partly surprised Max. She’d thought she and Lucy had developed a good working relationship, but from the beginning she recognized that trust wasn’t something that either of these people gave freely.

  Sean continued, “Danielle Sharpe is most likely in the Fieldstones’ house.”

  Max almost jumped out of her seat. “What? Lucy said that?”

  “I did. Lucy knows—I didn’t have to tell her. It’s obvious, and Lucy fears Sharpe is going to up her game and take out the whole family. She’s been working up to it.”

  “Why isn’t Lucy in the BSU? Arthur—my friend Dr. Arthur Ullman who is retired from the BSU—said they take only the best and brightest with that certain extra that makes them good profilers. And you can’t tell me that Lucy doesn’t have that extra. She has it in spades.”

  Sean didn’t say anything for a minute. He was looking at something on his phone, but Max couldn’t see what it was. Or was he thinking about what to tell her and how to say it?

  He said, “There’s only so much darkness a person can take before it consumes them.” He looked up from his phone and his dark, vibrant blue eyes spoke volumes. Max had never believed in true love and soulmates and all that romantic bullshit. Until now.

  There was nothing Sean Rogan wouldn’t do for his wife. And it was clear the feeling was mutual.

  He turned his phone to Max and she read the text message from Lucy.

  The agents aren’t responding and we can’t reach the Fieldstones. Ken and I are on our way with L.A. FBI. We don’t know yet if we’re dealing with a hostage situation or something far worse. I’m going in to talk her down. I will be okay, but … well, I love you.

  “I’m going to L.A.,” Sean said. “If you can be ready to leave in five minutes, you can join me.”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  The two agents watching the Fieldstones’ weren’t in their vehicle. “Dammit, I told them to check on the family—how’d they get ambushed? Why didn’t they call for backup?”

  “We don’t know what happened.” But Lucy knew time was not on their side. Last contact with the agents was ten minutes ago. She’d told Ken they needed to check on the family immediately; he’d acted based on her advice. Because he trusted her.

  Now two agents were in danger. Or already dead.

  Tim Nelson was calling in FBI SWAT. Their ETA was a minimum twenty minutes. Lucy didn’t know if the family had twenty minutes. She didn’t know if they were already dead.

  “I have to go in,” Lucy said.

  “Fuck no,” Ken said. “I’m not putting another FBI agent in the line of fire.”

  “She’s going to kill them. She knows she’s not getting out of this and she has nothing to lose. She’s been spiraling down for twenty-three years, Ken—she’s been careful, methodical, but one thing changed: her ex-husband started talking to her. She sensed there was something wrong, and even if he didn’t say something specifically to set her off, she unconsciously knows that something is different. And this family is different. The mother was having an affair. It’s a deviation. Kevin cannot die. I can’t let him die.”

  “You’re not going in there and risking your life.”

  Lucy pulled out the photo of her and Justin playing at the park the afternoon before Danielle killed her nephew. “This is my card inside. She will know who I am—I can talk her down. Make sure the agents are alive. If anyone needs medical help, I will try to get them out. Ken, we can’t sit here and wait for a tactical team! There are three and potentially five hostages inside. Dead? Alive? Danielle Sharpe has drugs, a gun, and nothing to lose.”

  Tim Nelson came over to them. “Glendale PD is working with us until the sheriff’s deputies arrive. They’ve blocked off the street both sides, and are notifying the neighbors to stay indoors. SWAT is nineteen minutes out—I had them on call, so they were ready to roll.”

  “Nineteen minutes is too long—I’m a hostage negotiator,” Lucy said. “I’m a rookie, I’m not supposed to negotiate without a senior negotiator, but I don’t think we should quibble about the damn bureaucracy when everyone in that house will be dead in nineteen minutes if we don’t do something now.”

  “Agent Kincaid, I don’t think you can make that call,” Nelson said. “Going in blind, without intelligence, is going to put another life in danger.”

  “A word,” Ken said to Nelson and pulled him aside.

  Lucy knew she was right—Danielle had changed her MO. She went into the house because she knew law enforcement had tracked her down. The calls to her husband coupled with the agents taking Kevin from his grandmother’s house gave it away. So she went to her Plan B—Danielle already knew about the alarm, knew how to bypass it. Nina Fieldstone probably didn’t realize that Danielle might have the alarm code. Danielle was inside the house when she called her husband the last time.

  Did you betray me again?

  Only this time, it was a different betrayal. Instead of another woman, it was talking to the police.

  Ken and Nelson came back. “One condition,” Nelson said. “You get her on the phone. I’m not sending you anywhere near that house if I don’t know that the hostages are alive.”

  Lucy nodded. How could she get Danielle to pick up?

  She dialed the Fieldstones’ house phone. It went to voice mail after six rings. She tried Nina’s cell phone; it went direct to voice mail.

  “Bullhorn?” she asked Nelson.

  He retrieved one from his trunk. Lucy took a deep breath and spoke into the bullhorn.

  “Danielle, my name is Lucy Kincaid. You know me. Justin called me Lulu. No one else has ever called me Lulu. Pick up the phone. I need to talk to you. You owe it to me to pick up the phone.”

  She nodded to Ken, who called the house phone again. It rang four times. Lucy thought she was too late, that they were already dead.

  On the fifth ring Danielle answered.

  “Are you lying to me?”

  The phone was on speaker, and Lucy motioned for everyone to quiet down.

  “No, Danielle. I found the picture of me and Justin playing in the park. I was playing in the sand and didn’t feel well. I didn’t remember until today that Justin called me Lulu. I blocked it out because I miss him so much.”

  “I need more than a photo. How do I know it’s really you and you’re not just lying to me like everyone else?”

  Lucy considered what she wanted. What would she know that the average person wouldn’t know?

  “You know it’s really me, Danielle. I was born two weeks before my nephew. Nelia was twenty-two when she had Justin, she got pregnant in col
lege—just like you. She married Justin’s father—just like you married Matthew’s father. And Andrew had an affair just like Richard had an affair. I don’t know how to prove to you I am who I am.”

  “Justin broke his arm. Which arm did he break and how?”

  Bile rose in Lucy’s throat. Justin broke his arm nearly a year before he was killed. She was there, at the park, and she’d told him not to climb so high. Coming down he’d slipped and fell more than twenty feet. It was a clean break, healed quickly, but he had a cast for several weeks.

  “His left arm. He fell out of a tree.” She closed her eyes. She wouldn’t have remembered if she and Max hadn’t gone back to the park last week. “He was buried next to that tree.”

  “It is you.”

  “Yes. I’m now an FBI agent and I really need to talk to you. Please, Danielle, let the family go and I’ll come in and we’ll talk. As long as you need to talk, I’ll listen.” She didn’t want to listen to the woman—she didn’t want to hear her justify why she killed Justin and all the other boys. She didn’t want to hear her justify why the Fieldstones needed to die.

  “No.”

  “They’re not going to let me come in unless you let the family leave. Can they leave, Danielle? Is anyone hurt?”

  “You can have the two FBI agents. They’re in the garage. But Tony and Nina are going to suffer for what they have done to their family.”

  “Wait—Danielle, we need to talk.”

  “Fine, come here and talk, but they’re still going to die. You know they have to. You of all people know that they need to be punished!”

  Lucy? Of all people? That made no sense. Was Danielle thinking of someone else when she thought of Lucy? Or was she truly having a psychotic break?

  “We’re going to come in and retrieve the FBI agents,” Lucy said, “then I’m going to come inside.”

  “No guns.”

  “I’ll leave my weapon out here. Is Kevin okay?”

  “He’s sleeping. He’s so peaceful. So perfect.”

  Sleeping? No, it wasn’t even seven. Had she already drugged him?

  Nelson was already in the process of retrieving the two agents from the garage. Lucy prayed this wasn’t a trap, but a minute later, they all came out. The agents had been duct-taped together. Danielle couldn’t have overpowered them—she must have used Kevin’s safety as a threat and forced Tony Fieldstone to do it.