“A bird in the hand is not worth two in the bush?”
“Not at this point. But I guess, well, I guess I don’t know. All I do know is that I want to be sure that—whether it’s just Repetto, or him and someone else, or many others— everyone involved is brought to justice and we don’t get too constrained when we look at the evidence.”
He smiled. “You’re a good policewoman, you know.”
She made a face at him. “Yeah, I am good at my job.”
“But this is about more than good police work.”
“I know.”
“Then let’s go to bed and get a good night’s sleep. We can harass Vivi about it all tomorrow,” he said, rising from couch and pulling her with him.
“Sleep?” she asked wrapping her arms around him, stopping him with a grin.
“Or maybe something not quite that,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Waiting for Marcus to call, Carly paced her office while Drew sat in a chair in front of her desk. She was glad she had gotten to know him better over the past several days because, had he actually been as calm as he appeared to be, she might have had to commit bodily injury. Knowing him as well as she did now, though, she could tell from the way his fingers curled over the arm of the chair and his blue eyes watched her that he was as anxious as she was.
“What do you think?” she stopped pacing to ask him. For the third time.
“I think your brother will do everything in his power to get that chip. And if he doesn’t get it, we will get a warrant. We’d just rather not have to because of the process,” he replied. Also for the third time.
“I’m being annoying, aren’t I?” she asked, then resumed her pacing.
“No, you’re not.”
She glanced at him and saw a flash of frustration in his eyes—not directed at her. No, more likely he wanted to pull her down onto his lap and hold her, offer her physical comfort with his steady presence. But he wouldn’t. He wasn’t the type to be so public with his affection—and even if he were, he respected her work and her position too much to behave so intimately in her domain of authority.
She started to thank him for being so patient when his phone rang, startling them both.
Drew glanced at the number. “It’s Brian,” he said as he hit the accept button. “Carmichael,” he answered. After a few seconds, his eyes flitted to hers then to her computer. Still listening to Brian, he motioned to her computer. “Do you mind if I . . .” he asked, gesturing to the machine.
She stepped back and waved him over. He moved around her desk and sat in her chair in front of the monitor. After scanning the screen for a moment, he seemed to find what he was looking for and clicked on an icon she’d seen, but hadn’t ever used—the video conference call application.
“Got it,” he said, then rattled out what appeared to the equivalent of a phone number for her account. Drew hung up and then, within seconds, Brian and Naomi appeared on the screen with Daniel in the background.
“You have news?” Drew asked without preamble, obviously more comfortable with video communication than she was, as she’d never used the application before.
“We do,” Brian confirmed. “But you may want to take a seat.” Drew immediately stood and offered Carly her chair then brought the other chair around to sit beside her.
“Okay,” Drew prompted.
“Okay,” Brian repeated. “Can you see this whiteboard behind me?” he asked, moving to the side. Behind Brian and Naomi, Daniel stood at a whiteboard with several photos taped to it and lines linking some of the images.
“Yes,” Carly said.
“Then here is what we were able to find. Daniel, do you want to take over?” Brian directed more than asked.
Daniel pointed a group of photos. “Here are the suspects for the killing in the San Juan Islands that used the same gun as the gun that killed your mother and uncle. This man here, William Kenny,” he said, his finger landing on a photo of a bald man covered in tattoos who looked to be in his late thirties, “is the cousin of this man here.” Daniel’s finger followed one of the drawn lines to another photo in a second grouping.
“And I assume those are the suspects in the LA shooting?” Carly asked.
“They are,” Daniel confirmed. “And once we found this connection, Naomi and Brian were able to track the movements of Douglas Trainor.” He continued to point to the cousin in LA. “It’s a sporadic trail, but within a few years of the events in LA, he did make a trip to the Seattle area.”
“And you think he transferred the gun at that point?” Carly asked.
“We think it’s a distinct possibility,” Naomi cut in.
“So that’s how the gun got from LA to Washington, but how did it get from DC to LA? “ Drew asked.
“Well, interestingly enough,” Naomi started. “We did some digging and found out that Douglas Trainor’s father, Isaac, who lives in DC, applied for a gun permit about six months after Sophia and Tony were killed and about six months before his son moved to LA.”
“And?” Drew prompted.
“We’re pretty sure he bought it from a pawn shop in his neighborhood,” Brian cut in.
“A pawn shop,” Carly repeated. It made sense, but the thought of the weapon that had been used to take so much from her and her brother being casually sold and moved about the country seemed unreal.
“Do we know why he bought a gun? Could it have been for his son?” Drew asked.
Naomi shook her head. “No, we don’t think so. At around the same time there had been a number of break-ins in the area. Isaac Trainor, from what we can tell, is a stand-up shopkeeper of a small news and sundries shop. We think he bought it for protection.”
“And his son likely took it from him when he moved to LA,” Drew finished.
Naomi and Brian both nodded.
“Okay,” Carly said on an exhale. “Can you get into the records of the pawn shop and see who brought it in to be pawned in the first place?”
Naomi made a face. “No. Other than the credit card system we used to trace the purchase, the shop seems to have no electronic records of anything. This is one that is going to require some boots on the ground.”
She looked at Drew, who seemed to be contemplating the information. “Drew,” she said, drawing his eyes to hers. “I can’t leave right now.” With Vic god-knew-where and Marcus in Florida, there was no way she could leave.
His face went distant, then his gaze met hers. “I’ll take care of it. Naomi, do you have anything else?” he asked, cutting off any protest or question Carly might have about his plans.
“That’s it from us. We’re waiting to hear from Marcus, as I’m sure you are too,” she answered.
“We’ll let you know when we hear from him,” Drew responded.
“And if you hear from him first—” Carly said.
“We’ll let you know,” Brian cut in.
They ended the call and she stared at the now empty screen. But Drew’s movement beside her brought her back.
“Drew?”
He tapped the desk with his fingertips once, twice, then a third time.
“Drew?” she repeated.
“Right,” he said pushing away. “I’ll be right back. Stay here. Don’t go anywhere.”
And then he was gone.
She frowned at his retreating form but realized there would be little good in calling him back. Mostly likely, he’d gone off to book himself a flight to DC. She let out a deep breath and sank into her chair. If she couldn’t go, at least she had Drew to go for her. It was the next best thing. Or so she kept telling herself.
An hour and a half later, when her frustration level had reached its maximum peak, Drew came waltzing back into the station with Vic, Lucas, and Ian. Carly had just handed some paperwork to Sharon to copy when the four men walked in and paused in front of her.
Her gaze fell on Vic, Lucas, and Ian individually before landing on Drew. “The four of you make for quite an impressive sight,”
she said. And it was true. Vic looked much better than he had the night before. His eyes still held a bit of a haunted look, but he appeared stronger and, if possible, more grounded. Beside him, Lucas’s tall frame all but dared someone to say something. And on the other side of Lucas stood Ian, looking as pragmatic and practical as always.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
To her surprise, Vic was the one who stepped forward to answer. “Drew filled us in on the situation. I’m sorry about your mother, about Deputy Silva, and for, well, everything you’re going through right now while also trying to hold down both your job and mine. Obviously, you’re better at it than I am. Oh—” He turned and caught Sharon’s attention with a gesture. “Sharon, you’ve met Lucas Rancuso before. He’s my partner, personally, but today he’s also here to help out.”
Carly couldn’t keep her eyebrows from shooting up. Even Lucas looked a bit startled. But both Ian and Drew appeared to be holding back smiles.
Sharon let her eyes travel over Lucas before they landed back on Vic. Carly could see him holding his breath—he might have made his announcement with a lot of bravado, but he was clearly anxious about his long-time receptionist’s reaction.
Sharon rolled her eyes and began reshuffling the papers Carly had handed her. “It’s about time you settled down, Chief.”
Vic blinked.
“Of course I knew,” Sharon said, answering his unasked question. “I know your family probably gave you a hard time, but, no offense, they always were an opinionated lot. And usually of the wrong opinion, if you ask me,” she muttered.
After a pregnant pause, Vic spoke again. “Okay, well, um, now that we have that out of the way,” he said with one of the first easy smiles Carly had seen on him in months. Turning toward her, he continued, “So, we figured out the best way to get you down to DC.”
“Me? Down to DC?” she asked.
“Did Marcus call?” Drew interjected before anyone could answer her question.
Carly hesitated and glanced quickly in Sharon’s direction, then with a gesture of her head toward her office, she led the four men into the room. Drew shut the door behind them.
“He did call. The owners agreed. It turns out they knew my mother and never believed any of the stories they’d read in the papers about the connections to terrorists.”
“So do they have the chip?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. The vet couldn’t make it out until this afternoon. But he’ll be there around two and they’ll do the procedure then. Marcus is booked on a flight back at five. He should be back to the lab by nine thirty.”
“Good. That’s good,” Drew said.
“Yes, that’s good,” she repeated. “Now what about DC?”
“We’re going to DC,” Drew said. “We have just enough time to swing by your house and pack a bag. We meet the plane in about an hour over by Great Barrington.”
“The airport’s in Albany,” she replied, already starting to gather the few things she’d brought to the office with her.
“Private plane,” he said, holding her coat out for her to slide into.
“Yours?” she asked, reaching for her purse.
Ian, Lucas, and Vic hadn’t moved much but all were watching the interaction between her and Drew with interest. She wondered how the three of them would fare together and what Drew had said to get Ian on board, but she figured she’d have time to ask him on the flight.
“The company’s—my family’s company’s—plane,” he stated, clarifying that his reference to the “company” did not mean the CIA. “I called as soon as I left the station earlier. It’s based in New York so the pilot flew it up. He should be landing any moment, then he’ll need to add fuel and run a pre-flight check. Then we’ll be off.”
She turned toward Vic, “And you—”
“We got this,” he said, holding up a hand. “I’ll be fine. I should have stepped up a long time ago. And if I need any reminding of that, Lucas and Ian will be here.”
She cast a skeptical look at the other two men and Ian gave her an encouraging smile.
“Carly?” Drew stood by the door with his hand on the doorknob.
She said a grateful goodbye to the three remaining men then stepped toward the door as Drew opened it.
Within minutes they were on their way to her house, where she quickly packed a bag and changed out of her uniform into jeans and a lightweight sweater. Shortly after that, they were headed to the private airport just over the Massachusetts border.
When they arrived, she was startled to see Caleb walking toward them carrying a black duffel bag.
“I left my car in the garage bay like you told me to. I’ll be back next week to pick it up,” he said to Drew, not breaking stride as he walked toward her. “Carly.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “Good to see you again. I’m just going to hitch a ride down to DC with you all. But don’t worry, I’ll sit with the captain in the cockpit and leave you two alone.” And then he was walking up the stairs to the plane where he disappeared inside.
She turned her attention to Drew. “I’d almost forgotten he was here.”
He grabbed her bag and motioned her toward the plane. “Don’t tell him, he’ll be crushed.”
So many thoughts zipped through her mind as she boarded the plane that she could hardly grab onto a single coherent one. Except for the thought that they were close. After all the years and all the secrets, they were going to bring her mother’s killer to justice, and maybe, just maybe, get some answers. That one thought seemed to occupy every breath she took, so it wasn’t until they were airborne that she started a conversation.
“How did you find Vic?” she asked. Seated in a wide, comfortable leather chair facing the front of the plane, she looked at Drew, seated in a similar chair across a table from her.
“I figured Vivi would know where Lucas was and Lucas would know where Vic was.”
“And Ian?”
“He was home when I talked to Vivi. He offered to come along in case we couldn’t find Vic and needed a local law enforcement officer to take over.”
“Wow, that was nice. Of them and of you.”
“I could have gone down to DC by myself, but given that Marcus is likely to be bringing back the smoking gun, I thought you might want to be in DC when Franks brings Repetto in.”
The idea of seeing Repetto face-to-face, of having him pay for what he did, had been something she’d wanted since they’d first put a name to the deed. But now, hearing Drew acknowledge that they really were that close—close enough to plan on arresting Repetto—made a wave of uneasy excitement ripple through her body.
“Thank you,” she said, turning her head away to look out the window. Suddenly, she blurted, “Why are you doing this?” Her question was born of her own insecurities—why her? Why was he doing everything he was doing for her? And what did it mean for them in the long term? But when he responded, she knew he’d heard her question differently.
“Why am I doing what, specifically?” he asked. His expression shuttered and though, to an outsider, his voice would sound nothing but calm and professional, Carly knew her question had hurt him. He had not heard her insecurities, but his own. He lived in a world where everyone questioned everything, and to him, she had just cast his feelings, his intentions toward her, into doubt.
“All of it,” she answered. “The task force, the plane, making arrangements for me to go to DC and the pawn shop . . .” She let her voice trail off and hoped he’d heard the real question this time. But even if he had, even if he’d recognized that her question had been more abstract than specific, she knew there were two answers he could give: why he’d done all those things or why he had done them for her.
He drummed his fingers on the armrest of his seat and switched his gaze out the window before he spoke. “Because we have an opportunity to get some answers and finally close this case. As for the trip to DC, we’re not going there just to follow up on the pawn shop—we also need to look into
the rented yacht, the hired hacker, and the people we think Repetto has already approached to take your uncle’s place. We need boots on the ground.”
Although it didn’t come as a surprise, the fact that he’d decided to answer with logic rather than emotion disappointed her. But since she had been the one who put the distance between them to begin with, even though it had been done inadvertently, she could also be the one to bridge it. So she did.
Unbuckling her seatbelt, she stood then moved around the table to his side. His gaze followed her in question. She paused a moment, then slid onto his lap facing him, straddling his thighs. His hands came to her waist, whether consciously or not she didn’t know, and his fingertips brushed the skin above the waistband of her jeans.
“You pulled away from me,” she said.
His blue eyes met hers.
“I know, it was my fault. I didn’t, well, I didn’t ask the question the way I should have. It’s just,” she paused and took a deep breath. “With everything going on, it’s a bit overwhelming. And, well, as much as I hate to admit it, I had a burst of insecurity. I’m not questioning your motives or your feelings for me, Drew. I didn’t mean for my question to come out that way. But my life isn’t clean. I know I’m headed for an emotional train wreck when this is all over.”
Again, she paused then pulled up all the courage she could. “I’m not much of a catch. I don’t know what I have to offer you. That’s what I meant—I meant to ask why you are doing this for me?” she said, laying her doubts on the line.
She expected him to pull her into his arms and hold her, but he didn’t. Instead, he raised his hands and bracketed her face with them. Leaning his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes for a moment then answered the question she’d asked.
“I’m doing this because I’m selfish, Carly. Being with you makes me want to explore again. You make me want to feel and you make me want to want. Until I met you, thinking about my life was something I avoided at all costs. My future felt more like a black hole teeming with uncertainties and unknowns—definitely not a place I wanted to venture into and not a place I’d drag someone else. But when I’m with you, those thoughts—those questions, those unknowns—aren’t so scary. I still don’t know any of the answers, and I have no idea what life will bring for us, but for the first time, I can actually catch a glimpse of what it might be like to navigate all the opportunities that are part of that uncertainty. Whatever it is we do, or whatever it is we make of this thing between us, isn’t going to be easy,” he stopped and exhaled before continuing.
An Inarticulate Sea Page 32