by Mel Gough
Corey put a hand on Carrie’s shoulder. His face was a mask, tears had left blotchy streaks. She clasped his fingers in hers and he gave her a grateful look.
“Baby, I’m so sorry,” Jay whispered. Pity stabbed Carrie’s heart like an arrow. The raw pain on the men’s faces was hard to bear. This was an intensely private moment, and on any other case, she would’ve excused herself now. Here, she didn’t feel out of place. This was where she wanted to be. She would’ve fought tooth and nail had someone tried to remove her. It made what she’d have to do next even harder.
Lou carded his free hand through Jay’s hair, then brushed away some of his tears. His gaze, still cloudy from the anesthetic, flitted to Corey, then Carrie. He gave them a lopsided smile. “I’ll be okay, promise.” He shifted, grimacing. “See? Doesn’t even hurt.”
Jay made a soft sound between a laugh and a sob. Corey said in a hoarse voice, “It’s never safe to turn my back on you, huh?”
Jay looked up, his red-rimmed eyes soft. He gave Corey a small grin. Then his eyes found Carrie, and the guilt awoke anew in her gut. She had to talk to him soon. He’d take her departure the hardest. It would destroy all the trust he’d gained for law enforcement.
They stayed for a few minutes. Lou tried his best to stay alert, but his eyes grew heavy and soon he couldn’t fight the painkillers that were pulling him under. The doctor, who hovered near the door taking notes, cleared his throat.
“He’ll sleep for a few hours now. We’ll keep his morphine topped up.” He gave Jay a searching glance. “You should go and get some rest. The next few days will be challenging.”
“I’m staying.” The firm jut of Jay’s jaw brokered no argument.
“At least let’s get coffee and some chow.” Corey looked worried as he studied Jay’s glowering, pale face.
After a long glance at Lou’s still form, Jay nodded and got up. Corey led the way out of the room. He held himself stiffly, as if in pain. Carrie wanted to hug him again. But first, she had to do something else.
She moved close to Jay as they stepped out into the corridor. “Can I talk to you?” Corey gave them a curious look, but after a glance from Carrie he nodded and went back to where Phil and the others were waiting.
Jay, eyebrows raised, motioned Carrie into a nearby window nook. “If this is about the hearing, don’t worry. I was pissed, but I get it. You had a job to do, and—”
“It’s not about that.” Carrie swallowed. “Well, it’s about that…job.” It was hard to breathe past the lump in her throat. “Jay, I…I’ve been recalled. I’m going back to Baltimore tonight.”
At first, Jay just stared at her. The exertion and lack of sleep over the last few days had carved deep lines into his face, and they deepened with every second as Carrie’s words sank in. At last, he said, “But you just found out who killed Barry. You need to catch him.”
“George and his team are more than capable.” Her heart ached. Those were exactly the words she hadn’t wanted to say. It sounded so dismissive, she wasn’t surprised when he recoiled from her. She hadn’t wanted to say any of it, didn’t want to see his face crumple in disbelief, then anger. But she didn’t know what else to do, so she added, “They don’t need me.”
Jay stared. “They don’t need you?” His voice grew louder. “We don’t deserve you and your precious expertise, you mean. Who gives a shit about some poncy rock stars who think the world revolves around them, right?” His eyes were hard and gray like dead coal. Had the same eyes really been full of kindness a few minutes ago?
“What? Of course that’s not it.” She reached out to touch him, but he took another step back. His gaze was so hard it hurt. She tried again. “Jay, I was told to leave. I didn’t choose—”
“Oh, really?” He sneered. “Why, all of a sudden, did the FBI decide you couldn’t continue with this case, huh?” His voice echoed off the bare walls. “Lou’s hurt. That…that man is still a danger…you promised.”
He was so angry, words failed him. His eyes narrowed. “Course you’re leaving. FBI don’t need to keep their promises, huh? You’ll have forgotten us before your plane even leaves the runway. You people never do what’s needed. You never believe… Go, then! Go back to your cozy office.”
He crowded her, towering over her. “Go!” he roared.
That did it at last. Carrie flinched, and stepped back.
It took all of her discipline not to turn and run. Balling her fists until her nails dug into her palms, she drew herself up. It made hardly a dent in their height difference, but it calmed her nonetheless. The perps she’d caught had all been taller than her, and she wasn’t easily intimidated.
He wasn’t a perp, though, and his anger hit a lot closer to home. Her heart wanted to jump out of her chest, but she held his gaze. “I’m sorry, Jay. I really am.”
She turned with as much dignity as she could manage and walked to the elevators. George, Corey, Phil and the Insects stared at her, but she ignored them. Corey took a tentative step toward her, but Carrie was already stepping into an elevator that had arrived at the right moment. Only when the doors closed did she unclench her hands. Tears burned hotly behind her eyelids.
Jay was right. She was a selfish, arrogant ass. Instead of doing her job, she was running away at the least bit of trouble.
But there was nothing else she could do. She had to choose her career; she’d worked too long and too hard to get here. If she disregarded this order, she’d had it. What else was there for her, if the Bureau kicked her out?
17
Cabs idled outside the hospital. Carrie got into the first one. She stared out of the window, the early evening rush hour whizzing past unnoticed.
The pain on Jay’s face wouldn’t let her go. She’d expected him to be angry, but that utter sense of betrayal that had been radiating off him had come as a shock. He was scared, of course. For Lou, for them all. Carrie understood, and she shared the fear. But there was more to it. He’d taken this personally. Was it just because of what had happened when Danny died? She wasn’t sure.
How could she walk away from them now? It was her duty, her calling, to protect the people placed in her care. She believed in the FBI, and that the Bureau made this country a safer place. But this agency was hard, and sometimes cold. They had to be. The safety of many was at stake, and the emotions of an agent could endanger an assignment.
This case had brought her into this situation for the first time. She wanted, she needed to be there for these men. Something had happened that made this case more personal than any she’d ever worked. It had touched her heart in a deep, buried place.
And it wasn’t just that she’d slept with two of them. She’d developed a connection with all of them, something that went beyond physical attraction. The way they’d built their lives, together, and the way they protected and looked out for each other without a second thought was something she’d never experienced in her relationships. And she had been on the way of becoming a part of that. Now it had been taken away.
No, worse, she was being forced to abandon three people who cared for her, and let them fend for themselves in the face of terrible danger. Her action had destroyed the tenuous ties before they could become something more. It broke her heart.
But she couldn’t defy Gibbs. He wasn’t a bad guy, and he was under pressure himself. Especially after what had happened with the drug case. Of course he’d blown up when that complaint had come in. That had to have been Henke, that asshole detective from San Antonio. I need to talk to George.
But what would be the point? Was this worth jeopardizing her career for? She’d been an agent for fifteen years, and she’d worked hard to get where she was. She’d once before risked her career, and sworn herself never to let her private relationship compromise her judgment again.
And a lot more was riding on it this time. She was no inexperienced greenhorn anymore. Nobody would take the fall for her, nobody would cut her any slack. She was responsible for her own conduct. She’
d been careful and deliberate for all these years, taking care never to be tempted into a misstep or gray zone again. Now her heart seemed set to destroy what she’d worked for.
“That’s nine sixty.” The driver’s voice cut through her ruminations. They’d pulled up outside the Four Seasons. Carrie thrust a twenty at him.
“Keep the change.” She didn’t bother asking for a receipt. Claiming back expenses for this assignment wasn’t a task she was looking forward to.
What now, then? She should pack, book a flight and return the rental car.
But first, she had to talk to George. She had to explain, and pass on any details she could remember from the conversation in Lou’s room that might be useful.
He answered on the first ring and didn’t give her time for a greeting. “Carrie! What the fuck happened? You lit it out of there like the building was on fire. None of the guys are speaking to me. And where the hell are you?”
She came to a stand by the elevators. “I’ve been recalled, George. I’m returning to Baltimore tonight.”
“What? How—”
“Don’t worry about the details. You gotta focus on Sam Greene. Any intel on his whereabouts?”
“None.” He sighed. “Carrie, you can’t leave. I need your help. I’m still drowning here. And you know the case better than anyone.”
“I’ll send you my notes.” If the roles were reversed, she’d be hopping mad, too. “You got this, George.” It sounded even more hollow spoken aloud.
“I can’t do this, Carrie. I don’t have enough people as it is. This is going to be a man hunt.”
“Get the Sherriff’s Department to help with the actual search.”
He snorted. “What do I tell them? We’re looking for a guy who’s a genius at blending in?” His tone became wheedling. “Carrie, this isn’t your average man on the run. I need your brain on this.”
Carrie gnashed her teeth. She hated defeatism. “He’s not as clever as he thinks. We figured out his identity sooner than he thought.”
“What makes you say that?” George sounded doubtful.
“The way he played this accident. He wanted Jay not to be there. And he stuck around the venue long enough to see the rig collapse. Corey saw him just before they went up on stage. That’s taking some pretty big risk if he’d known his discovery was imminent.” The elevator had reached her floor. “Have you got people searching his motel room yet? And the arena?”
“I’ll have the report any minute now. Do you want me to call you when it comes through?” He sounded calmer again.
She couldn’t let herself be dragged back in, but Carrie hesitated a moment anyway. “No, George.” Regret burned inside her. “It’s your case now.”
“Carrie—”
“I’ve got a plane to catch.” She couldn’t listen to this any longer. “I’ll send you my files. Goodbye, George.”
She hung up and dug in her pocket for the room key. Once inside, she leaned against the door. She wanted to believe that she would’ve preferred never to have heard about this case, but that was a big, fat lie. The thought of never seeing the guys again made her feel sick. It took all her willpower not to head straight back out and head for the hospital.
Carrie flicked open her laptop. She’d need to book a flight. While the machine booted up she dragged her bag from the closet and set it open onto the bed. Then she sank into the desk chair and stared into space.
Her gaze fell onto the tidily made bed. She’d not slept in this room at all. Maybe she’d suggest that to Gibbs when she got back. Save the Bureau some money by fraternizing with the unsubs. Carrie snorted. A bitter laugh wanted to erupt from her mouth, but she bit it back
Her phone buzzed. She didn’t recognize the number, but took the call anyway. What did it matter now? Even a sales call would do nicely to take her mind off things.
“Hello?”
“Special Agent McDonald?”
“The same. Who’s this?”
There was a short pause. “Nigel Greene.”
Carrie sat up straighter. “Mr. Greene. This is unexpected.”
“Call me Nigel, please?” He took a deep breath. “I wanted to hear if there has been a development.”
Carrie bit back her irritation. It was understandable. The families of those who did the deed were often the most devastated. And she had to treat him like a family member now, rather than as a former LEO. “I’m sorry, Mr. G—Nigel. At this point in the investigation I can’t answer any questions.” Which he knew better than most. But Carrie didn’t blame him. In his position, she’d try the same.
“I read about the band manager.” He wasn’t ready to give up. “It was him, wasn’t it?”
It couldn’t have been very hard to figure out. Greene would still know people in the right places, and he seemed proficient with computers. Hell, he might’ve even just watched the press conference on TV and put two and two together. In a city like Austin, there couldn’t be that many murders in a couple of nights not to make the right inference. Most would be gang-related or domestic. And Barry was the only one left once all other possibilities had been excluded.
She didn’t like it, but she had no choice. “Sir, I can’t—”
“I know.” Greene sighed. “I just had to try. Sam was always talking about starting a band. He was wild about it. In our teens, he got this used Silvertone and an ancient amplifier.” He scoffed. “We set up a studio in the attic. It was dusty and hot in there, but he loved it. I could barely get a tune out of the clarinet our parents wanted me to learn, and he was very upset when I refused to spend my summer job money on a drum kit.” He was silent again. “I’d forgotten all about that.”
Another childhood memory ruined. Carrie’s heart went out to the guy. And she was curious. “Did he ever try to take his music ambitions further?”
The next pause stretched, but Carrie was used to waiting for witnesses. At last, he said, “Special Agent, I haven’t seen my brother since I went off to college. He dropped out of school, and our father threw him out. Sam took to drugs like some kids take to team sports. It broke my mother’s heart. I don’t know what he wanted to do. He’d talked of all kinds of stuff—rock musician, artist, Hollywood. None of it realistic.” He added quietly, “My parents didn’t understand that kind of lifestyle, and they weren’t going to pay for it.”
Their childhood seemed to have been ordinary, even comfortable, though the father’s reaction had been extreme. The age-old question of what made a criminal came up often in Carrie’s line of work. Maybe all it would’ve taken to keep Sam on an even path was a little more support at home. But these things were never clear cut. And she didn’t know what Sam Greene had been like. He’d turned into a killer, and that didn’t happen overnight.
“I’m very sorry.”
“It’s all right. It was a long time ago.” He seemed to regain his composure. “I don’t know if this is relevant, but the place where the band manager’s body was found was Sam’s favorite park. Our dad was a bit of a bird nut. We went with him every weekend until we were about eleven.” He smiled when he continued, “Being still was hard for Sam, but he loved those outings. He loved being out in nature. I think he loved the birds singing even more than he loved making noise on his guitar.”
Carrie said nothing. She wanted to reassure Nigel, thank him for the information, anything. But she couldn’t speak. His brother was a killer, and Nigel’s pain at losing the good childhood memories as he’d pieced together the crime radiated through the phone.
At last she managed, “Thank you for letting me know. As soon as I can, I’ll share updates with you.” After a moment she added, “I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” He sounded tired.
They ended the call. Carrie dropped the phone in her lap. Sitting there in silence, the full weight of the facts hit her. The killer had a name. Sam Greene had killed Barry Cornell, who would never find out whether Thistle Hearts would manage to top the charts once more.
And the band
had lost a friend, the person who believed in them more passionately than anyone. All because of one deranged individual, who was still out to wreak havoc. And Nigel Greene had lost the memories of his brother, after already losing his career.
Carrie stood. She closed her laptop, grabbed the key card and headed for the door. She couldn’t walk away from this. She couldn’t bring back Barry, but she’d be damned if she didn’t do whatever she could to bring a killer to justice and give these people peace.
Sam Greene was dangerous. Whatever he’d already done, there was more to come. Carrie could feel it in her bones.
18
Lou kicked Jay out around dinnertime. “You look like you’re gonna puke or keel over.”
He felt like doing both. Jay left reluctantly, giving the guard at Lou’s door a long, hard stare.
Corey coaxed him into a cab. He looked beat himself, and Jay’s conscience squirmed. He was fucking up everyone else’s life. When they got to the hotel Corey asked, “You want me to stay the night?”
Jay shook his head. “I’m all right. I just need to get some sleep.”
“And you need to get some dinner.” Before Jay could demur, Corey said warningly, “If you don’t go to the restaurant with me for a bite to eat, I’ll tell Lou.” He had been right, of course. As soon as Jay got a few bites of steak into himself, he felt a lot better.
They didn’t linger. They were both wrapped up in their own thoughts. Skipping dessert, they said goodnight.
Up in the suite Jay called Lou, who sounded sleepy. “I’m okay, I swear. Just tired.” He yawned. “Get some rest now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“All right.” Jay was reluctant to let him go, but he forced himself to do the sensible thing. “You too, baby.”
After that, he was at a loss. He should turn in. His body was exhausted and he’d regret a late night next morning. But he couldn’t settle. The large suite was too still. He got a can of soda from the refrigerator and turned on the television. But after a couple of minutes, his attention began to wander.