Dead and Gone

by Tina Glasneck

  Chris broke into a wide smile, feeling triumph where a second ago there’d been ruin. “Thank you, sir.”

  “I said your career, Horan.” Now it was Nowitski’s turn to smile, wide and vicious. “But not your job. I’ll not tolerate agents who disobey me. You’re done in New York. I’m going to have you transferred to the shittiest office I can find. If Alaska has no vacancies, I’ll work back from there. And I’ll take great pleasure in doing so. Now get out of my sight.”

  Chris’s turned his back on both of them and walked down the hall, away from the briefing room they’d used for the press conference and back to his desk. An already cold office, made worse by Manny’s absence and the frostiness of his colleagues, was now completely arctic. He knew what he had to do: pack up his things and get out of there. You didn’t get to stick around once you’d been bounced out.

  Chris swung back in his chair for a moment, taking in the blow. He’d worked in the New York field office his entire career. It was the premier posting in the Bureau – the largest office with the best cases. Going anywhere else was like a baseballer being sent from the Yankees to some scrub minor league team. Any hope he had of further progression was gone. The fact he even had a job was a miracle. The media attention had done him some good.

  With a sigh, he started to clear his desk, packing the few belongings he wanted to take with him into a box. As he rifled through old case files, he reflected on how much good he’d done here. He felt a brief pang of regret, but the more he thought about it the more he believed he’d done the right thing. He’d saved a woman’s life, come within inches of catching the killer, and come closer to identifying the man.

  He’d been ready to roll over in order to avoid criminal charges, but he’d taken his chances and still avoided that fate. It was the only thing he had left to hang onto. On his way out, nobody said goodbye. It was as if he had Ebola. It felt like his career was ending with the saddest whimper. It felt as if the downward spiral he’d fallen into when Tamara had died had finally planted him on his ass, right at rock bottom.

  He didn’t know if he could to pull himself up again, but he was about to find out.

  Act II

  25

  Ashley

  Ashley dropped down onto her haunches and hugged Lucy as tight as she thought the little girl could handle. She watched Tom approach from a few dozen yards away, knowing that in a few minutes he would take Lucy away again. For the first time in a long time, though, Ashley was okay with that.

  “Your dad is coming.” Ashley relaxed her grip on Lucy, backed away slightly and looked her in the eyes. “I hope you had a good time at breakfast.”

  “It was great.” Lucy beamed, her cheeks dimpling. “I really wanted pancakes with bacon, though. Can I have that next time?”

  Ashley laughed. “I’ll make sure they order more so they don’t run out. We’ll get you a double order, if you like.”

  “I’m not that big yet!” Lucy laughed at the thought, then turned to face her father. “Hi Daddy.”

  “Hi munchkin.” Tom hugged Lucy briefly and then turned to Ashley. “Was breakfast good?”

  The question was a loaded one and they both knew it. This was the first time Ashley had seen her daughter in months and he wanted to know that it hadn’t gone off the rails. For once, Ashley was able to say she’d kept to the plan. They’d had a nice breakfast and a play in the park.

  “It was perfect.” Ashley smiled. Spending so much time with Lucy had been the best thing to happen in a long time. “We had a great time.”

  “I’m glad.” Tom smiled at Ashley and then grabbed Lucy’s hand tight. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yep!” Lucy beamed, oblivious to the fragile truce between her parents.

  “Go get in the car and buckle up then.” Tom unlocked the vehicle, which was parked a few yards away. “I just want to speak with your mom for a second.”

  “Okay!” Lucy let go of his hand, turned and ran to the car without another word.

  Tom waited until she was in the car and out of earshot before he spoke. “Anything you need to tell me?”

  A lump caught in Ashley’s throat when she tried to answer the question. She swallowed hard and smiled. “It went perfect. It just feels too soon to be saying goodbye.”

  Tom nodded. “This was a trial run. We’ll see if we can sort out something more regular soon. I just need to be sure I can trust you, Ashley.”

  He had every right to doubt her. It hadn’t been easy for Ashley to admit she’d been out of control. She’d only been saved by the counseling and the leniency granted to her by the police. She was determined to make the most of this second chance. She needed to show Tom and Lucy and everyone else that she’d healed.

  “You can.” Ashley reached out and grabbed his hand. “I hate what I became, and I hate that I lost you and Lucy.”

  “Ashley, I—”

  She locked her eyes onto Tom. “Let me finish!”

  “Okay.” He pursed his lips, clearly concerned.

  Ashley closed her eyes. “I hated all of those things. I thought everyone else was to blame. But now I recognize that my actions were the problem. I shouldn’t have tried to take Lucy, I shouldn’t have tried to take my own life, and I should’ve focused on meeting my responsibilities.”

  Ashley paused, expecting Tom to say something. When he didn’t, she continued. “I think I saw Lucy as my salvation. I love her more than anything, but it was about more than wanting to be with my daughter. I wanted some stability when there was nothing but uncertainty and chaos.”

  “And now?”

  “Now?” Ashley shrugged. “You can trust me to do the right thing, Tom.”

  Tom gave her a hard look, sizing her up, then nodded and made his way to the car. They’d established some sort of understanding. It had taken several months for Ashley to build up enough trust for Tom to allow breakfast, so it would probably take a while to get more than that. Ashley didn’t care. Seeing Lucy was worth it.

  The trial, the decision by Obrist not to appeal, and the loss of her place in witness protection had nearly toppled her over the edge, especially when combined with the despair she felt at being apart from Lucy for so long. But after Manny had pulled her out of the cop station, Ashley had realized she needed to change, and things had started to improve.

  Slowly, she’d fumbled her way through making those changes, now things were starting to go right. She’d gone some way toward getting her shit together. She’d found a house to rent, she was working and she seemed to be safe. Yet all that paled against the small amount of access that Tom had granted her. It wasn’t much of a life, but it was good for her right now.

  “Bye!” Lucy shouted and waved as Tom drove off. “Bye Mommy!”

  Ashley held up her hand in farewell, waving until the car was out of sight. With a sigh, Ashley turned and headed for the clothing store where she worked. Her shift began soon and she’d squeezed every last second out of the visit from Lucy. The thought of going weeks without seeing her daughter again was hard. The job helped keep her mind off it all.

  Ashley reached the store, paused to compose herself, then entered. Her boss, Jana, waved from behind the counter and Ashley smiled at her. “Morning.”

  “Early!” Jana looked down at her watch, then back up at Ashley with a smile. “At this rate I’m going to have to give you a pay rise, Ashley.”

  “I had an appointment nearby that finished early, so I thought I’d come straight in. But I wouldn’t say no to a pay rise!” Ashley laughed. She kept the appointment details vague out of habit. She was used to living in secret and compartmentalizing her life. Trust was something else she’d lost.

  Jana nodded as Ashley made her way to the room at the back of the store. She closed the door, removed the t-shirt she was wearing and put on a blouse more appropriate for work. There was no way she could afford anything in the store, so Jana was kind enough to let Ashley borrow some older stock to wear during her shifts.

  As she c
hanged, she smiled, thinking about her breakfast with Lucy. Things weren’t perfect, but they were definitely looking up.

  26

  Duncan

  “I’ll take anything, really.” Duncan placed his resume on the counter. “I can do whatever you need.”

  The owner of the takeout chicken store looked at Duncan and then down at his resume. “I’m sorry, buddy. I like your initiative, but I just can’t take anyone on right now.”

  “Can I at least leave my resume?” Duncan hated how pathetic his voice sounded, but he was desperate. “In case something becomes available?”

  “You can if you like.” The owner looked back up at Duncan and shrugged. It was clear there’d be no job coming up anytime soon. “Now, I need to get back to work.”

  Duncan nodded, walked away from the counter and out of the store. Once he was out front, he gripped the few resumes left in his possession tightly, but tried to force down the anger that was welling up inside of him. At least this guy had been nice about the rejection. Plenty of store owners had just stared at him. The females in particular seemed to regard him as something they’d scraped off a shoe.

  Finding a job was proving tough, but it was necessary.

  Since travelling to Wallingford from New York, Duncan’s furious anger and desire to find Ashley again had not subsided at all. His failure to kill Chelsea Butler was as significant as a speck of dust when put alongside the chance to kill the woman who’d started it all. From the minute he’d arrived, he’d searched high and low for Ashley. But he didn’t know the surname she was using, he hadn’t managed to locate her and nobody in town he’d asked knew who she was.

  As the months had ticked by, reality had started to bite. Though he wanted to spend every waking moment searching for her, he had no money and needed to find work. Despite applying for jobs and handing out resumes in every store he could find, he’d had no luck. He was living in a trailer and had almost burned through his stash of cash. A lifelong nomad, he was used to change, but not to living so desperately.

  But one thing was working in his favor. In the months he’d been searching for Ashley and for work, he’d gone off the radar. Though there was a rough likeness of him in circulation, he’d grown a beard and nobody in Wallingford cared enough to recognize him. Beyond that, it appeared the cops in New York had no clue who he was. The news outlets had lost interest, so Duncan felt safer with each passing day. His mistake had cost him the right to take Chelsea’s life, his job, and the apartment he’d been living in, but the damage stopped there.

  The fact he’d taken a step closer to Ashley made it feel like a win.

  Now he just wanted to find her.

  With a sigh, he kept walking, looking for stores where he hadn’t yet applied for work. At first he’d been picky about the jobs he applied for, but his standards had been steadily forced downward. This street was mostly a waste of time, full of stores he’d already tried, but there was one he’d bypassed previously. There was no chance a ladies’ fashion store would employ him, but he had to try.

  “Hang in there! Keep your chin up and life can’t hurt you.”

  Duncan paused and looked around for the source of the voice. Then he spotted a homeless guy sitting in an alley that ran off the street. The man was wrapped up in a sleeping bag and had a wide-brimmed hat on, a ridiculous but effective way to avoid the weather. Duncan smiled at the man. “Thanks, pal.”

  The other man cracked a toothless smile. “We’ve all been there. I know the look of a man down on his luck. You’ll be okay.”

  Duncan felt his face starting to burn red. Having a bum try to perk him up felt like a new low. He fumbled through his pockets for some change and put it into the man’s empty coffee cup. It was only a few bucks, but the man’s toothless smile grew into a grin and he issued a stream of thanks. Duncan walked away, his fists clenched by his sides as a fury burned inside him. He was pathetic. It had taken a homeless guy to show Duncan how far he’d fallen.

  He had to find a job, then he could redouble his effort on his real work.

  Finding her.

  He reached the clothing boutique, determined to try. As he reached for the door, a member of staff caught his eye through the window. His face brightened, but hers darkened as she saw the paper he was carrying. The message was clear. His fury was white-hot now. He swallowed hard, pushed the door open and stepped inside. The woman greeted him with a fake smile.

  Duncan forced a smile of his own. “I’d like to apply for a job here, if you’ve got any available.”

  “Do you have any work history you can share with me?” The woman’s reaction was one Duncan knew well. “Any experience in ladies’ fashion?”

  Duncan sighed. He had no experience he could share. That was a consequence of changing your identity. “No, none.”

  “Then there’s not much I can offer you.” The woman gave a sympathetic smile. “I’ve got enough staff, and I need to be careful before I take more on.”

  “I understand.” Duncan felt his face go red again. He just wanted to get out of the store. All his drive and motivation from a minute ago had vanished.

  “I hope so.” The manager turned and gestured toward another staff member, who was checking the stock levels on the clothing racks. “I’ve a hard enough time giving Ashley shifts, and I’ve only just taken her on. It would be unfair to take someone else on, given the circumstances...”

  “I under—”

  A breath caught in Duncan’s throat and his eyes widened. He’d seen the glance of red hair when the manager had gestured at the staff member, but she’d just turned, and he’d caught sight of her face. He felt a tingle all over. She looked a little bit rough, but it was unmistakably her. He was frozen in place, watching her. She was the entire reason he’d come to Wallingford, his chance to turn a defeat into a victory.

  She was the one who’d started it all, the bitch who’d shown him the true nature of women. She was the woman who’d stolen his heart, ripped it out, and then vanished. Though he’d searched, he’d never found her. Until now. She looked different, older, but there was no doubt it was her. She still had the hair, the face, and the curves that had excited him so many years ago.

  His mind screamed at him.

  As if on cue, the woman glanced sideways, straight at him. Duncan waited for a spark, of fear or recognition, but she was oblivious. Though he’d aged and he’d grown a beard since arriving in Wallingford, she should still recognize him. Yet she merely smiled at him and got back to work. A flood of pain and anger coursed through him and he wanted desperately to strangle her. Duncan’s head hurt. All he could see was the red-haired woman.

  “Sir?”

  Duncan cried out as someone touched his shoulder from behind, snapping him back to the present. He turned, pushing the store manager’s hand away. She was still speaking as Duncan exited the shop. He broke into a run, his mind racing his body as it tried to process what he’d seen.

  Everything had just changed.

  27

  Chris

  “Thanks for visiting us here at the Omaha field office.” Chris held his arms wide while forcing a smile. “I hope you now know more about the work of the Bureau.”

  The smiles he received almost made it worthwhile. Almost. He made small talk with a few of the citizens of Omaha, Nebraska as they made their way out. They’d been glued to their seats during his session, and Chris had no doubt he’d entertained them. He’d shared some interesting cases from the history of the Omaha field office, his new professional home, then explained how the Bureau worked.

  The briefing was one of many Chris had conducted over the past few months. The aim was to explain the role of the local FBI division to citizens who applied to be a part of the sessions. Although he considered the work to be a sort of penance for his mistakes in New York, it was starting to get tiresome.

  After the attendees had left, Chris returned to his office and collapsed into the chair. Nowitski had been true to his word. Chris had been han
ded the equivalent of latrine duty in the hope that he’d quit. Though he’d arrived in Omaha with some hope of getting a fresh start, that hope had ebbed away. As the months passed, the number of briefings had grown, and real work had continued to evade him.

  “Hope the briefing went well.” His boss, Agent Tony Harvey, was leaning against the doorframe of his office with a manila folder in his hand. “Got a job for you.”

  “Not a problem, sir.” Chris forced a smile as he stood, crossed the room, and took the folder. “Thanks.”

  “Keep up the good work.” Harvey gave him a thin smile, making it clear he’d handed Chris another shit sandwich, then turned and walked out of the office.

  Chris closed the door and returned to his seat. He didn’t have to open the folder to know what was inside, another community briefing, and a half-hearted glance confirmed his hunch. At this rate, Chris felt like he’d be doing community briefings until the projector clicker was pried out of his cold dead hands. He tossed the folder on his desk and watched, numb, as the papers scattered.

  He stared at the ceiling and closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing as the wave of regrets hit him again. The damage he’d caused to Manny was the main one. Though Manny had survived the stabbing, his career had taken a hit as a result. Chris knew their friendship was ruined. Although he’d tried to make contact with Manny a few times, both to check on Manny and also to check the progress of the investigation, each time he’d been rebuffed.

  Chris also regretted failing to catch the serial killer. Though there’d been no further kills in New York City that fit the profile, that was the only small silver lining. Chris had disturbed the killer in action, and obviously spooked him enough to make him stop for a while, but he would strike again sooner or later. The chances of catching him were remote now. The Bureau wasn’t interested and Chris had lost any ability to investigate effectively.