“I don’t think I can,” she said. “I’ve got a commitment I need to keep.” Looking at Michelle, this was easy to say. But nearly every nerve in her body fought against her newly acquired grandmother instincts.
“Well, listen to the specs anyway, would you? The murders are married couples, one in their early fifties, the other in their early sixties. The most recent were the fifty-somethings. Their daughter discovered their bodies when she came home from college earlier today. The murders occurred within thirty miles of one another, one in Whip Springs and the other one just outside of Roanoke.”
“Couples? Any link between them other than they were married?”
“Not yet. But all four bodies were cut up pretty badly. The killer is using a knife. Making it slow and methodical. As far as I’m concerned, it points to another couple going down within two days or so.”
“Yeah, it sounds like a serial in the making,” Kate said.
She thought back to the case in 1996 that Duran had mentioned. In the end, a crazed woman who had been working as a nanny had taken the lives of three couples within the span of just two days. It turned out that she had worked for all three of the couples within a ten-year period. Kate had apprehended the woman when she was on the way to kill a fourth couple and then, according to her testimony, herself.
Was she really going to say no to this? After the intense flashback she’d had today, could she truly pass up another opportunity at stopping a killer?
“How long do I have to think about it?” she asked.
“I’ll give you an hour. No more than that. I need someone on this now. And I thought you and DeMarco could work well on it. One hour, Wise…sooner if you can.”
Before she could give an OK or a thanks, Duran ended the call. He was typically warm and friendly, but when he did not get his way he could be very irritable.
As quietly as she could, she went to the bed and sat down on the edge. She watched Michelle sleeping, the gentle rise and fall of her chest so slow and methodical. She could clearly remember Melissa being this small and had no idea where the time had gone. And that was where her problem sprung from: she felt that she had missed so much of her life as a mother and wife because of her job but she felt a strong duty to it nonetheless. Especially when she knew that she could be out there right now, doing her part to bring a killer to justice.
What kind of a person would she be if she turned the offer down, leaving Duran to choose another agent who might not have the same skillsets as she did?
But what kind of grandmother and mother was she being if she had to call Melissa, telling her to come pick up her daughter early and end her night out because the FBI had come calling again?
Kate stared at Michelle for about five minutes, even lying down next to her and placing her hand on the baby’s chest just to feel her breathe. And seeing that little flicker of life, of a life that had not yet learned about the kinds of evil that existed in the world, made the decision much easier for Kate.
Frowning for the first time that day, Kate picked up the phone and called Melissa.
Once, when Melissa was sixteen, she’d snuck a boy into her room late at night when Kate and Michael were already asleep. Kate had stirred awake at some noise (which she later found out was likely someone’s knee hitting the wall in Melissa’s bedroom) and went up to investigate. When she opened her daughter’s door and found her topless with a boy in her bed, she had thrown him off the bed and screamed at him to get out.
The fury in Melissa’s eyes that night was dwarfed by what Kate saw in her daughter’s stare as she buckled Michelle into the car seat at 9:30—just a little over an hour after Duran had called her about the case in Roanoke.
“This is messed up, Mom,” she said.
“Lissa, I’m so sorry. But what the hell was I supposed to do?”
“Well, from what I understand, people actually stay retired once they’ve retired. Maybe try that!”
“It’s not that easy,” Kate argued.
“Oh, I know, Mom,” Melissa said. “It never was with you.”
“That’s not fair…”
“And don’t think I’m just pissed because you cut my one night to relax short. I don’t care about that. I’m not that selfish. Unlike some people. I’m pissed because your job—which you were supposed to be done with over a year ago, mind you—continues to win over your family. Even after everything…after Dad…”
“Lissa, let’s not do this.”
Melissa picked up the car seat with a softness that was not present in her voice or her body’s strained posture.
“I agree,” Melissa spat. “Let’s not.”
And with that, she walked out of the front door, slamming it behind her.
Kate reached out for the doorknob but stopped. What was she going to do? Was she going to continue this argument outside, in the yard? Besides, she knew Melissa well. After a few days, she’d cool down and would actually listen to Kate’s side of the story. She might even accept her mother’s apology.
Kate felt like a traitor as she picked up her cell phone. After she’d called Duran, he informed her that he’d planned on her showing up for the case anyway. As it stood, he had someone from the Virginia State Police lined up to meet with her and DeMarco at 4:30 in the morning down in Whip Springs. As for DeMarco, she had left DC half an hour ago with an agency car. She’d be at Kate’s house sometime around midnight. Kate realized she could have easily kept Michelle until the originally planned on eleven o’clock and avoided the confrontation with Melissa. But she couldn’t dwell on that now.
The suddenness of it all had taken Kate slightly off guard. Even though the last case she had taken had seemed to come out of nowhere, it had at least had some sort of stable structure to it. But it had been quite a while since she had been assigned a case at such an hour. It was daunting but she was also very excited—excited enough to be able to momentarily push Melissa’s anger toward her to the back of her mind.
Still, as she packed a bag while waiting for DeMarco to arrive, a stinging thought pierced her. And it’s that right there—your ability to push everything to the side for the sake of the job—that caused so much trouble between the two of you in the first place.
But that thought too was easily pushed to the side.
CHAPTER THREE
One of the many things Kate had learned about DeMarco during their last case was that she was punctual. It was a trait she was reminded of when she heard a knock on her door at 12:10.
I don’t remember the last time I had a visitor this late, she thought. College, maybe?
She walked to the door, carrying her single packed bag with her. Yet when she answered the door, she saw that DeMarco had no intention of just rushing out to drive to the crime scene.
“At the risk of seeming rude, I really need to use your bathroom,” DeMarco said. “Chugging two Cokes to stay awake for the ride was a bad idea.”
Kate smiled and stepped aside to let DeMarco in. Given the speed and urgency Duran had instilled in her during their phone calls, DeMarco’s abruptness was the kind of unintentional comic relief she needed. It also made her feel comfortable to know that even after almost two months apart, she and DeMarco were picking back up on the same comfort level they had shared before parting ways after the last case.
DeMarco came out of the bathroom a few minutes later with an embarrassed smile on her face.
“And good morning to you,” Kate said. Maybe it was because of the caffeine intake, but DeMarco did not seem any worse for the wear,