If She Knew

“Yes,” Duran agreed. “Needless to say, we’d really appreciate it if you kept it under wraps for now. And, of course, knock it out of the park.”

“I’ll try my best,” Kate said. She was beginning to understand that there was now a bit of pressure being applied here. Not that she minded, really. She usually operated better under pressure.

“Great,” Duran said. “For now, do you want to go over the details of this case as you understand them?”

Kate nodded and instantly fell back into her old role. It was as if she had never missed a day, much less a year. As she filled them in on what was going on in Richmond and how she had gotten involved, Agent Rose and Agent DeMarco held steady eye contact with her, perhaps studying her to see how they might work alongside her.

But she didn’t let that distract her. As she went over the details of the case, she felt as if she had stepped back in time.

And it was far superior to the present she had been living.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Three hours later, Kate and Logan were sitting at an outdoor table beneath a canopy at a small Italian restaurant. Logan was eating a meat-packed sub while Kate was eating a pasta salad and enjoying a glass of white wine. She did not drink often and almost never before five in the afternoon, but this was a special occasion. Even the mere idea of a reality where she might once again become active within the bureau was cause for celebration as far as she was concerned.

“So what kind of cases are you working on right now?” Kate asked.

“All things that would bore you, I’m sure,” he said. But she knew he’d tell her; he’d tell her because he loved the job just as much as she did.

“Trying to crack some scammers that have been tampering with ATMs for the most part. I’m sort of working in a partnership with a few other agents in what might be a small prostitution ring coming out of Georgetown, but that’s about it.”

“Yikes,” Kate said.

“Told you. Boring.”

“So a far cry from these cold cases Duran mentioned? What do you know about that anyway? How long has that little side project been cooking?”

“A while, I think. I was only brought in to the loop two weeks ago. Duran and some of the other behind-closed-door types were asking about some of the cases we had worked on that never got solved. Not looking for methodology or anything like that, just asking for details and old case files.”

“And they didn’t give you a reason?”

“No. And…wait, why do you sound suspicious? I thought you’d be jumping all over this opportunity.”

“Oh, I plan to. But it makes me wonder if there is one particular cold case they are more interested in. Something had to have spurred on this sudden interest in cold cases. I seriously doubt it’s just so Duran could find some way to bring me back.”

“I don’t know,” Logan said. “You’d be surprised. You’ve been missed around here. Some of the newer agents still talk about you like you’re some kind of mythological character.”

She ignored the compliment, still stuck on her train of thought. “Also, why would he call me in only to send me back, telling me he wanted me to take some more time before starting? It makes me wonder if whatever the real reason behind it is might not quite be fleshed out just yet.”

“Well, you know,” Logan said. “Based on the way you’re overthinking this whole thing, maybe he’s right. Relax, Kate. Like he said…there are tons of retired agents who would die for this chance. So yeah, go back home. Relax. Do absolutely nothing.”

“You know me well enough to know that’s not how I am,” she said. She took a sip from her wine, thinking that maybe he was right. Maybe she should just revel in the joy of coming back to work…sort of.

“Retirement didn’t change that, huh?” Logan asked.

“No. If anything, it made it worse. I can’t stand to sit still. I hate an idle brain. Cross word puzzles and knitting aren’t going to cut it for me. Maybe deep down Duran knew that I’m too young to be put out to pasture.”

Logan smiled and shook his head. “Yeah, but the grass in those pastures is pretty lush and green.”

“Yeah, and there’s cow shit everywhere.”

Logan sighed as he took the final bite of his lunch. “Okay,” he said. “Some of us need to get back to work.”

“Cheap shot,” she said, taking the last sip of her wine.

“So what are you going to do?” he asked. “Head back home?”

She honestly wasn’t quite sure yet. Part of her wanted to stay in DC just for the hell of it. Maybe she’d get some shopping done or go out to her favorite spot at the National Mall and just sit to reflect. It was certainly a gorgeous day for it.

But then again, she wanted to be back home, too. While she had struck out in terms of Brian Neilbolt, the fact remained that someone had killed Julie Meade. And it seemed that the police were at a loss so far.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I may hang around town for a bit but I’ll likely head back home before nightfall.”

“If you change your mind, give me a call. It was really nice seeing you, Kate.”

They paid their checks and left the table after a brief embrace. Even before Kate left, her mind seemed to have snagged on one particular thought, one that had come out of nowhere, it seemed.

Julie was killed in her home, while her husband was out of town. If there was a break-in of any kind, no one mentioned it to me. Not the police while I was being lectured, and not Debbie or Jim. If there had been a break-in, you’d think that would have been mentioned.

It made her wonder…did the killer enter the house because he was invited? Or did they perhaps, at the very least, know where a spare key was hidden?

Those questions settled it. Once she’d given her glass of wine enough time to run its course, she was going to drive back to Richmond. She’d promised Assistant Director Duran that she would not beat anyone else up.

But she’d said nothing about not investigating.

Of course, the funeral was first. She’d pay her respects and do her very best to be there for Deb tomorrow. And after that, she’d step back into her role—perhaps with a bit more excitement than she cared to admit.

CHAPTER EIGHT

The next afternoon, Kate was standing in the back row of mourners as the Meade family and their closest friends assembled at the cemetery. She stood with her little breakfast crew—Clarissa and Jane dressed in black and looking genuinely heartbroken—who had managed to love on Debbie earlier in the morning. Debbie seemed to be doing much better than she had on the day she had asked Kate to look into the murder. She wept openly and let out a single anguished moan of sorrow, but she was still present. Jim, on the other hand, looked like a very broken man. A man who would go home and think long and hard about how sometimes, life just wasn’t very fucking fair at all.

Kate couldn’t help but think of her own daughter. She knew she’d have to call Melissa when the funeral was over. She hadn’t known Julie Meade very well but based on conversations she’d had with Debbie, Kate assumed she had been around the same age as Melissa, give or take a few years.

She listened as the preacher went through the familiar Biblical passages. While her thoughts were very much with Debbie, they were also still slightly obsessing over how this could have happened. She had not come out and asked directly if there had been a break-in since she had gotten back from DC but she had kept her ears open. She had noticed that neither Jane nor Clarissa had ever mentioned a break-in, either. And that was odd because Clarissa somehow had a knack for knowing everything thanks to her nose for gossip.

She looked up at Debbie and Jim, noticing that there was a tall man standing by Jim. He was relatively young and dashing in a clean-cut sort of way. She lightly nudged Jane beside her and asked: “The tall guy next to Jim. Is that Julie’s husband?”

“Yeah. Tyler is his name. They hadn’t been married long. Less than a year, I think.”

It occurred to Kate that maybe her little breakfast clique really didn’t know one another very well after all. Sure, they knew all about their former jobs, favorite caffeinated beverages, and wishes and dreams for retirement. But they had never really gone much deeper. It had been sort of a mutual silent understanding. They had rarely talked about their families, keeping conversation surface level, fun, and entertaining.

There was nothing wrong with that, of course, but it left Kate knowing very little about the Meade family. All she knew was that Julie had been their only child…in the same way that Melissa was her only child. And while she and Melissa were not as intimately close as they had once been, it still hurt to even think about losing her.

Once the service was over and the crowd started to disperse in a tangle of hugs and awkward handshakes, Kate and her little coffee group follow suit. Kate, however, hung back where a few people had kind of hidden themselves away for a cigarette. While Kate was not smoking (she thought it a disgusting habit), she wanted to stay out of sight for a while. She scanned the crowd and found the tall figure of Tyler Hicks. He was speaking to an elderly couple, both of whom were openly weeping. Tyler, however, seemed to be doing his best to remain calm.

When the elderly couple left, Kate made her way toward him. Tyler was heading in the direction of a middle-aged woman and her two children, but Kate made a point to reach him first.

“Excuse me,” she said, angling herself in front of him. “You’re Tyler, right?”