A beat passed. “What kind of trouble?”
“Not that kind of trouble. She hasn’t done anything bad,” he said, then he told her. All about what Carly had told him, what he’d seen in his short time at the state lab, and everything Naomi had shared with him. When he finished, Dani remained silent for a long moment.
“Um, wow,” she said. “Witness security?”
“Hmm.”
“That’s a bit of a surprise.”
“Understatement, but yes,” he agreed.
“Why don’t you call Rina and ask her to set up a task force?”
“Under what premise? There is no possible way we can claim any jurisdiction here.”
“True,” Dani conceded. “But that was the case when we went to Maine too. When she ‘loaned’ us out to the DEA,” she said, referring to the case that had brought her and Ty together and helped them to find the man who had killed her parents.
“We had a bit more to go on there,” Drew said. “The drugs and weapons were traveling internationally.”
“But our main target was an American. And besides, how long have you been working for Rina?”
He had to give it some thought before answering. “Just over eighteen years.” He’d gone straight from graduate school to her division and had been there ever since, rising in the ranks as she did.
“And how many favors have you asked her?” Dani pressed.
“That’s not how it works, Dani. We sign up to do a job and we do it. We don’t get to ask for favors from our employers.”
“Bullshit. You did it for me. When we went to Maine.”
He started to protest then stopped himself because it would sound hollow. He had asked Rina for a favor in setting up the arrangements that had let them do what they’d done in Maine. But the favor had been for Dani so, for some reason, it had felt different.
“But that was for you,” he said. “I’ve been making excuses and exceptions for you since you joined my team,” he added, hoping to make light of the situation.
Dani let out a deep breath before speaking. “While I don’t doubt that’s true, given some of the things I probably put you through, you still asked for a favor and Rina came through. Do you not want to ask her?”
To not ask would mean sitting back and playing a passive role in the situation. Something he couldn’t do, not with Carly at the center. So then, why was he having such a hard time doing what he needed—and wanted—to do?
Dani waited patiently on the other end of the line, silently letting him sort through his thoughts. When finally he came to a conclusion, he didn’t like it one bit. “I don’t want to ask Rina because I don’t want her to say no,” he said quietly. The honesty in his statement said more about his feelings for Carly than anything else. He couldn’t sit this one out, not a chance, even if Rina said no. And going against his boss would have repercussions he didn’t want to contemplate.
“It’s real, then, is it?” Dani asked. He let a ghost of a smile touch his lips at her question. She hadn’t asked if what he felt for Carly was serious—she’d asked if what he felt was real. A much bigger question for people like him and Dani, people who didn’t have a lot of real in their lives.
“Yeah, it is,” he said on an exhale.
“Then you have no choice, you need to ask Rina. It seems to me, you have enough people to put together a small task force. You, Carly, her brother, Dr. DeMarco, Naomi, and maybe those marshals too. Maybe Dr. DeMarco, with her FBI connections, can bring in another trusted colleague, because if you’re going to be looking for someone inside those walls, you’re going to want people you can trust.”
“I know,” he said. And he did. Not surprisingly, what Dani suggested echoed what had been bouncing around in his mind since leaving Carly’s the night before.
“Should I talk to her before I talk to Rina?” he asked, hardly believing he had asked the question. A few years older, he’d always been Dani’s boss, the one she’d come to with questions. Sure, he’d asked for her opinion before, but never concerning his personal life. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he’d ever asked for anyone’s opinion on his personal life.
“Uh, yeah?” she answered, sounding like a teenage girl.
“What?”
“What do you mean ‘what’?”
“I mean, you said that like I asked a dumb question. It wasn’t a dumb question.”
“Yes, it was, Drew. Think about it. The woman had her life turned upside down when she was sixteen. She’s been keeping a secret ever since then—not a little secret, but a huge one. Then, suddenly, she finds the body of one of the only other people who knew the secret in her hometown, and she doesn’t know how it happened, who did it, or, most importantly, why. She doesn’t know who she can talk to and she’s worried that, if Marguerite was targeted, whoever did this might start targeting her other friends. I’m thinking she’s probably feeling a little bit out of control right now. If you go and form a task force without talking to her first and suddenly bring in all these people to ‘fix’ things for her, my guess is it might send her over the edge. Not that she’ll go crazy, but, well, you might regret it, is all I’m saying.”
“Put that way, you have a good point,” he said.
“Yes, I do.”
“I see Ty’s been able to work on your modesty over the last few years.”
She laughed. “Ty likes me cocky.”
“God help him,” he said with a small laugh of his own as he rose from the bed. He paused by the windows and looked out again, remembering the look on Carly’s face when she’d stopped to take in the view as they’d walked up the trail nearby not even a week ago. He’d noticed her almost awed expression at the time, and while he’d tucked that experience into his mental file, he hadn’t given it much thought since. Now, as he looked out over the valley, he found he could almost understand it. He could easily stand there all morning, absorbed in the colors and the wildlife.
But he had things to do.
“Dani?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re welcome. And when you get this all settled, why don’t you guys come up for a visit?”
“Presumptuous, Dani,” he responded. He liked the idea, but he had no idea where he and Carly would end up when the situation was over. He liked to think they’d be together in some fashion, but he still couldn’t get his mind to even contemplate what that might look like. Mostly because he had no experience in it.
“Maybe,” she conceded. “Even so, give it some thought, and promise me one thing?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful.”
He let out a deep breath. She wasn’t talking about the situation with Marguerite. “Thanks, I will.”
“And Drew?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you, you know that, right?”
Her statement seemed to hit him in the solar plexus with the strength of a two-by-four. Not because he didn’t know it. Not because he didn’t consider Dani and Sam his family and he theirs. But because they hadn’t ever said it. Not he and Dani. Not once. And to hear it from her seemed to break something inside him. Things were changing and he’d been trying so hard to not let them, trying to keep a neat and tidy world that he only had to look at from his one perspective.
But to hear Dani, one of the toughest, most contained women he’d ever met, say those words so easily changed everything for him. How, he wasn’t sure—not yet. But he knew then, with those few words, he couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to. And he didn’t even want to.
“I love you too, Dani. Now go take care of yourself, and that toddler and husband of yours, and I’ll come and visit as soon as I can.”
She paused for moment, then in Dani-fashion made some comment about how he’d better come up and visit or he’d be sorry and hung up.
Smiling to himself, Drew glanced back at the clock. He wanted to call Carly, but since she had the day off, he thought she might be sleeping in. Between hi
m showing up at her house the last several nights and her own worries, as well as work, she probably hadn’t slept much.
Opening the app on his phone, he found that she was not at home. Her car was parked in front of Frank’s Café in town. He debated on what to do for five seconds, then went to the duffel bag he still hadn’t unpacked and pulled out his running gear. If Carly wanted a leisurely breakfast at Frank’s, she deserved it. Besides, the conversation he wanted to have couldn’t happen over coffee in a café anyway. So, he opted to go for a good run to kill some time and maybe clear his head a bit before seeing her.
Five minutes later, he locked Kit’s door behind him and headed up the trail he and Carly had walked a few days before. Only this time, with no reason to stop, he headed straight to Churchkill Road, where he turned left toward the dead end. The road, damp from the recent drizzle, muted the sound of his feet, and for a good long while all he heard was his own breathing. Because it was still slightly overcast and there was a definite chill in the air, running, which was never one of his favorite things to do, was a little easier to deal with. The peaceful quiet of the road, the smell of the fallen leaves, and the distant scent of a fire burning in someone’s fireplace didn’t hurt either.
Spotting the end of the road about a half mile ahead of him, Drew caught sight of a woman. Dressed in dark pants and a thick sweater, she looked up from where she stood on Churchkill Road as he approached. Probably in her early seventies, she appeared to be collecting her mail. He glanced down the driveway near where she stood and recognized that it must be the Kirby farm Carly had mentioned.
Slowing his jog, he came to a stop about fifteen feet in front of her. His breath formed puffs of fog in front of him.
“Everything all right?” the woman asked, holding what looked like a bunch of magazines or catalogs.
He smiled. “Yes, fine. I’m Drew Carmichael, a friend of Kit Forrester and Garret Cantona. I’m staying at their place for a few days while they are away.”
The woman nodded but said nothing.
“I was up here the other day with someone and she was mentioning that the road by your farm used to go all the way through to another hamlet where there is a church and a swimming creek.”
The woman smiled. “Yes, it’s a lovely hamlet. One of the oldest in the area. The church is still standing, although now it’s more of a town hall than anything else.”
“And the creek and swimming area?”
“It’s still there and still popular. The town maintains it now and in the summer different local groups sell drinks and snacks from the old church to raise funds.”
As she spoke, he let his eyes travel down her driveway and toward where he imagined the old road would go. As he did, a car, a state trooper, came up the drive and paused.
“Everything okay, Judith?” the driver, a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties, asked.
“Yes, Craig, everything is fine. This is Drew Carmichael, a friend of Kit and Garret’s,” she said. “Mr. Carmichael, this is my son-in-law Craig Neil. I was telling Drew about the old church and swimming hole.”
The man gave him a good once over. “I’ll be going then,” he said. After rolling up his window, he continued down the road.
“He and my daughter and their two girls live on the farm,” the woman said. “By the way, I’m Judith Kirby.”
Drew held out his hand, then cast her an apologetic look when he realized how sweaty it was, and pulled it back. “It’s nice to meet you. I hear your farm is famous for its beef?” He shouldn’t be standing around. He needed to keep running or his muscles would stiffen up. But the question had just popped out.
Judith laughed. “Yes, we are, I suppose. Locally, anyway. My husband and daughter, Meredith, Craig’s wife, run the business now, but it started with my husband’s grandparents. Craig, of course, is a state trooper, but he helps out when he can.”
“That’s a nice legacy, and it’s nice your daughter is interested in continuing it.”
Judith laughed a little. “She is, she loves it. Strange as it might sound, but she does. Now, if you want to see the old church, feel free to go across our property. Follow the driveway down—it will turn left toward the house, but keep going straight. After about twenty feet or so, you’ll see where the old road used to be. It runs along the south side of one our pastures and there is a bridge when you get to the end. It’s old, but it will hold you if you want to cross.”
His eyes traveled the path as she spoke it. He couldn’t see all the way to the creek and the bridge, but he could see a little break in the tree line where the road must go.
“You wouldn’t mind?” he asked, suddenly feeling the need to explore.
“Of course not, dear. And if you want to come back this way, you can, or you can continue on through the hamlet and meet up with the county road. If you do, turn right and about a mile down the road, you’ll see Lancaster Road on your right. If you follow Lancaster—”
“It will meet up again with Churchkill and then I can take the trail back to Kit’s,” he finished, remembering what Carly and Marcus had said about Lancaster and Churchkill roads meetings.
“Exactly,” Judith said with another smile.
He paused, his fists on his hips. Then he smiled himself and looked back to Judith. “Thank you, if you really don’t mind, I think I will.”
She stepped back and waved him on.
He thanked her again and began jogging down her driveway. Her directions had been simple and he made his way toward the creek without difficulty. When he came to the bridge, he slowed to a walk. The wooden structure had no railings and had so much dirt and grit accumulated in all its nooks and crannies that it had the overall appearance of packed earth. Drew walked about halfway across and looked out over the edge.
In his mind’s eye, he could see the summer swimmers. The creek, about eight-feet wide, flowed into a much wider area on either side of the bridge, creating a swimming hole about fifteen-feet across. The shores were sandy with enough rocks to give the kids who were interested in climbing a place to explore. And the banks were grassy and dotted with trees.
On the other side of the bridge from the Kirby farm stood the church Carly had told him about. The single-aisle white clapboard building with small stained glass windows lining the sides brought to mind every picture postcard of historic Northeast towns he’d ever seen.
Inhaling a deep breath of the clean, cool air, Drew turned his attention, and his body, toward the hamlet itself. Picking up a jog again, he passed the church on his left and continued on toward the main road that traveled through the quaint village. Most of the houses he passed looked to have been built in the late seventeen hundreds or early eighteen hundreds. Several had porches and most were painted either white or some sort of pale yellow. Almost all of them had gardens that he imagined were lovely in the summer.
Leaving the hamlet, and his sense of having traveled back in time a few hundred years, Drew hit the main county road both Judith and Carly had mentioned. Turning right, he ran about another ten minutes before hitting the intersection with Lancaster Road. Heading up the hill on the dirt road back toward Churchkill, he pushed himself hard, knowing he’d have the relative flat of Churchkill and then the downhill back to Kit’s house ahead of him.
By the time he reached Kit’s house his breathing had slowed, but he knew he’d be sore the next day from the climb up Lancaster. Coming to a stop in the driveway, he gave himself a moment to cool down and stretch before reentering the house. As he did so, he paced some circles and took in the area around him. It was beautiful, he’d give Kit and Carly that—they’d picked a spectacular place to live. And as he paused at a point in the driveway where he could see around Kit’s house to the view that lay to the west, it dawned on him that it had been a long time since he’d taken the time to explore, to do something or go somewhere without a plan.
This thought followed him inside as he showered and changed. Even as he sat down to do a bit of work before headin
g over to Carly’s house to talk to her about his growing idea, the same thought bounced around in his head. What had happened to him over the years?
As a kid, he and Jason had constantly explored new places—much to their parents’ chagrin. He remembered being fourteen and Jason twelve when they’d taken the skiff and tried to sail to Maine. From Long Island. They’d made it about three miles away from home before their dad, who’d caught up to them in a motor boat, had found them in a cove where they’d stopped to swim.
And then there had been the hike he’d taken by himself through the Scottish Highlands. Nineteen at the time, already planning to join the CIA, but still playing with his own freedom. He’d spent the entire summer on that hike. It had been part fun, part contemplative, and part grueling. And he still remembered the freedom of the uncertainty of each day. At that age, each day had felt like an opportunity to learn something new, to have a new experience.
As he wrapped up the last of his e-mails, he realized that it had been well over a decade since he’d had that feeling, that feeling of excitement about the endless possibilities a day could bring. Now, if he didn’t know exactly how a day or mission would turn out, he experienced nothing but a sick feeling in the pit in his stomach. Sure, he improvised. He didn’t necessarily schedule every minute of the day. But every day, every mission, had an objective.
Sitting in bucolic Windsor, that statement felt dramatic, but when it came to his job, the sentiment held a lot of truth. And for the first time in forever, he began to wonder what that kind of perspective did to him. Knowing people’s lives rested on his shoulders with nearly every decision he made, what did that do to him—to his body and to his mind? Did it make him a better agent? A better person? Or had it stunted him?
With a deep sigh, Drew closed down his computer and his rambling thoughts and turned his attention to Carly and her situation. Fixing her life was much easier to think about than fixing his own.
• • •
Thirty minutes later, he pulled up to Carly’s house. After knocking on her door, he took a step back and eyed his surroundings. His gaze fell on the main house and he wondered when, or if, the owners would be up for the weekend. His eyes traced the elaborate roofline of the three-story Victorian. Taking in the details of the small, round stained glass window in the house’s turret, he realized he’d been standing there for several minutes.
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