So Alone, page 3
“But Boss, he’s made this personal,” Faith said. “He threatenedme. He threatened people close to me. He’s going to come after me, and he’s going to finish what Trammell started if we don’t finish it first!”
“This isn’t up for discussion, Bold,” the Boss said firmly. “This is the right decision and the decision I should have made years ago. I'm sorry, Faith. Not because I'm making this decision now but because I didn't stay true to this decision before. You are the wrong choice for the job. You're a great agent, but you’re too close to this case and the one before it, and now you’re seeing the Copycat Killer in every murder you encounter.”
“I’m not just imagining things,” Faith said, pleading. “Some of the things in that note… he knows things about me that people who don’t know me personally wouldn’t know. He knows people in my life. He’s killed one of my friends, and he’s going to keep killing them. He threatened Michael in that note, and he threatened David.”
“Who’s David?” the Boss asked.
“Boyfriend,” Michael replied.
The Boss sighed. “Put him in protective custody, if you think you can get authorization, Faith.”
“Boss, that’s only thirty days without evidence of a credible threat,” she said.
“Which you don’t have,” the Boss pointed out.
“I do, but it’s not something that anyone else would recognize,” she said. “It’s like I said, there are things in that note that only I would know.”“ The Boss shared a look with Michael, and Faith felt her frustration threaten to overwhelm her.“Boss, he’s going to target my loved ones no matter what I do,” Faith insisted. “It’s like you said, he’s obsessing over me. Having me lay low won’t help.”
“Faith,” the Boss said, still softly but very seriously. “You are off the case. Discussion over.”
Faith didn’t reply. She sighed and hung her head, irritated but not surprised to find tears in her eyes.
“Go on home,” the Boss said gently. “Both of you. I’ll make arrangements for Gordon. It’s my duty as his superior. I’ll see you two on Monday.”
Faith spun on her heel and left without another word. Turk followed her, gazing anxiously up at her as she headed toward the exit. Desrouleaux—Gordon’s former partner—and Chavez—the youngest agent at the field office and Desrouleaux’s new partner/protégé—approached, presumably to commiserate with her, but they stopped when they saw her expression and allowed her to leave.
It was happening again. It was happening all over again. Just when she thought she was safe and that she could leave Trammell and the trauma he’d put her through in the past, the new Donkey Killer had rewarded her lapse in attention by murdering her friend and mentor and one of the finest men she’d ever known.
And he’d threatened Michael, Ellie and David. Her loved ones were in danger, and it was all her fault. She should never have pulled away from the case. She should never have let it go. Dr. West had suggested it was best for her mental health that she drop the case, but Dr. West was wrong. This was her responsibility and she had forfeited it and now Gordon was dead, and her friends were next.
And the Boss didn’t believe her. Now, he was taking the case from her and giving it to strangers who had no idea what this man was capable of.
“Faith!”
Faith paused with her hand on the handle of her door and waited for Michael to catch up. Turk barked happily when Michael arrived, hoping that he could help cheer Faith up. Michael paused to ruffle Turk’s fur reassuringly, then looked up at Faith. “Faith, you know I love you—” he began.
She turned away and opened the car door. With surprising quickness, Michael stood and slammed it shut. “Faith, don’t be stupid.”
“I need a moment, Michael,” she said tersely, hating the tears that continued to fall. “Can I have a goddamned moment? Please?”
“Promise me you won’t be stupid,” he said, keeping his hand on the door. “Promise me you won’t go off on a wild goose chase and get yourself hurt or killed like last time.”
Faith’s eyes snapped to his, but her angry retort died on her lips when she saw the worry in his eyes. Michael had rescued her from the first Donkey Killer when she was moments from death. Back then, she had left on her own, too impatient with procedure to wait for the manhunt to begin properly. Her reward for her impatience was months-long paralysis and an ongoing struggle with depression and PTSD that had nearly cost her career and her relationships. Michael had pulled her from the brink of disaster the first time, but he didn’t want to watch her tempt fate again.
She sighed and released the door handle. “All right,” she said softly. “I won’t do anything stupid. I promise.”
Michael nodded and took his hand off of the door. “If you need anything, call me,” he said. “I’m sorry, Faith.”
She wiped tears from her eyes in short, angry swipes. “He was your friend too, Michael. We’re both sorry.”
“Yeah,” Michael said. “Yeah, we are.”
His face tensed, and he looked past her shoulder into the distance for a moment. He looked back at her and forced a smile. “We’ll be okay.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, “but Gordon won’t.”
His smile faded. “No. No, he won’t.”
They stood in silence for a long moment. In another life, Faith would have thrown herself into his arms, and he would have held her and together they would have wept and mourned and healed.
But that was another life, and in this life, the best they could do was stand in silence a moment and wrestle privately with their demons.
It was Michael who broke the impasse, nodding and laying a hand on Faith’s shoulder. “I’ll see you Monday,” he said.
He squeezed briefly, and for a split second, Faith wanted nothing more than to forget everything and collapse into his arms and weep. Then he pulled his hand away, and the walls came up again.
“See you Monday,” she said, forcing herself to meet his eyes.
He smiled sadly and left. Faith watched him walk away until Turk whined and rubbed his head on her legs. She reached down and ruffled his fur behind his ears, then opened the door and let him inside.
Her mind was a blank as she drove home. She drove mechanically, and when she arrived home, she filled Turk’s water and food bowls mechanically. He left the bowls untouched and followed her, his eyes never leaving her as she microwaved a tv dinner—did they still call them tv dinners?—and sat on her couch.
She turned the tv on to a news channel. A tropical storm in California—the first in over eighty years—had flooded cities and covered highways in mud. A species of dolphin was past the point of no return and would go extinct within ten years. A war overseas was leaving cities in rubble and civilians dead and displaced by the millions.
The world went on.
Turk nudged her legs, and she looked down to see eyes full of a love and trust more pure than that of which any human was capable. She dropped to her knees in front of the couch and wrapped her arms tightly around him. She sobbed once, a hoarse, choking cry, then wept, tears soaking his coat as he stood strong and pressed his head to hers.
CHAPTER TWO
David came to her the moment she got out of the car. She threw her arms around him and burst into tears. She wondered how long she would weep like this.
“I’m so sorry,” he said gently as he rocked her back and forth in his arms. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Faith closed her eyes and breathed in his scent—leather and cinnamon. She squeezed her arms more tightly around him and breathed deeply and slowly. Her tears subsided, but she held him a moment longer before releasing him.
He smiled compassionately at her and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes. “You okay?” he asked.
Faith thought it odd and wonderful how the most foolish questions were the most welcome when asked by someone you loved. She smiled and kissed him softly. “Not even close,” she replied honestly.
He nodded in understanding and kissed her forehead. “Yeah, I don’t blame you,” he said. “Do you want to come inside?”
“I would absolutely love to,” she said.
Turk barked, sensing now as the moment when it was all right for him to join the conversation. David smiled broadly at him and held his arms out for a hug. Turk obliged, leaping into the doctor’s arms and licking his face exuberantly, tail wagging like a puppy’s.
David laughed and endured the onslaught of affection for a moment before setting the big dog on the ground and leading both of them inside. A few minutes later, the three of them sat in the kitchen, Turk happily working through a bowl full of the fancy dog food that David kept on hand, the two humans working through a plate of eggs, sausage links and fried potatoes served with a cup of some fancy heirloom coffee that David had picked up from Morning Glory—the local coffee shop where Faith had first met him.
She thought wryly that David and Michael would get along swimmingly, if for no other reason than their love of fancy coffee. She chuckled, and David looked quizzically at her. She shook her head. "Just thinking of another friend of mine who likes fancy coffee."
“Hey, I can buy some cans of the cheap stuff for you if you’d prefer,” David teased.
“This is fine,” Faith said, sipping her brew. “Thank you.”
There was a momentary pause where both steeled themselves for the uncomfortable conversation ahead. Then David asked, “So when’s the memorial service?”
“Next week,” Faith said. “He’s being released from the coroner today and cremated tomorrow. They’re waiting a few days more for the memorial so his family from Ireland can attend.”
“They’re not doing a wake?”
“I think they are,” Faith said, “after the memorial.”
“You should go,” David said, “I’ll bet they’d love to hear your stories about him.”
Faith tensed slightly. She appreciated the thought behind a joyful celebration of a person’s life, but she couldn't believe that drinking and laughing and joking would eliminate the pain and void of death, even for a moment. Not for her, at least.
“Maybe,” she said. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about, though.”
“What is it?” he asked.
She sipped her coffee and sighed. She didn’t relish the argument she knew she was about to have, but she knew she had to endure it.
“The killer—the one who killed Gordon—he threatened you.”
David blinked. “Me? Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’m not supposed to tell you about this, since it’s evidence, but the killer left a note for me with Gordon’s body.”
“A note for you?”
“Yes. He told me that it was my fault for getting Gordon killed, and that if I didn’t back off, he would come after you and Michael next.”
“He said those words exactly?”
“Well, not exactly,” Faith admitted, “but it was clear from the subtext of the message that’s what he meant.”
David’s expression shifted. It was slight, too slight for most people to notice, but Faith was trained to notice things like that, and she could tell by the subtle tic at the left corner of his mouth and the tightening around his eyes that he didn’t believe her.
“I’m not being paranoid,” she said, “this is real, David.”
“I didn’t say you were being paranoid,” he replied carefully. “I didn’t say anything, in fact.”
“David, please believe me,” Faith pressed. “You’re in danger. You need to get somewhere safe.”
“What do you mean, somewhere safe?”
“I don’t know,” she said, “Somewhere out of the Philadelphia area. Probably out of state.”
“You want me to go out of state?” David sighed, and Faith’s trained eye told her he had rejected the threat out of hand. “Faith, I can’t do that. I have patients.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Patients who need you. Patients who don’t want to see you killed by a crazed murderer.”
“Faith…” David hesitated. He tapped his fingers on the table, and finally said, “Faith, I understand that you’re hurting a lot right now, and I understand that you’re scared. You’ve lost a friend, and—”
“David, this isn’t paranoia!” Faith interrupted, raising her voice in frustration. “For God’s sake, he left that note for me, David! He threatened my friends and loved ones. That’s you, David.”
“He left a note,” David corrected. “A note that didn’t mention my name. That’s not enough for me to run off and leave my life behind.”
God, she hated the gentleness in his voice, like he was talking to a child throwing a tantrum.
“He mentioned my name, David,” she said. “He mentioned Bold. He said Gordon died like a Prince—that’s Michael’s last name—and he said that no veterinary doctor on earth could have saved Gordon. That’s you.”
“He said veterinary doctor specifically?”
“Yes! He said that ultimately, no veterinary doctor could save this bull—”
“This bull,” David interrupted. “Not Gordon.”
“Well, obviously, he was referring to Gordon!” Faith snapped. “Who the hell else would it be?”
“Okay,” David said, once more in that infuriatingly calm voice as he lifted a hand to calm her. “Okay. I can see how the note was worrisome, but that doesn’t mean that my life is in immediate danger.”
“He has to be,” Faith insisted. “There are too many things in there that can’t be explained by any other reason than that he knows me.”
“Well, you’ve put a lot of people behind bars,” David said. “If anything, I think you should be more concerned with yourself. Can you get protection if he comes after you?”
“He’s not coming after me,” Faith insisted. “Not now, anyway. He doesn’t want to kill me, he wants to break me. He’s going to kill the people I care about one by one until I have nothing left. Hell, he might not even kill me after that. He might just disappear and sit on a beach somewhere in Bali laughing about the crazed FBI agent who’s stuck spending the rest of her life in a futile hunt for the man who ruined her life.”
“Faith,” David said in that goddamned calm tone. “Listen to yourself. People in your profession die every day. They get murdered every day. I don’t mean to be brutal, but it seems to me like someone is just out for revenge against the FBI.”
“Then why name you?” Faith challenged. “Why threaten you?”
“They didn’t threaten me,” he retorted. “They told me I couldn’t stop them from killing Gordon, which makes no sense at all since I didn’t even know the man. It’s just tripe, Faith. They’re trying to scare you to throw you off the scent.”
“David, please,” Faith insisted. “Just take some time off.”
David sighed and tapped his fingers a moment. Finally, he said, “Faith, I absolutely sympathize with your feelings right now, and I will do anything and everything I can to make this easier for you, but I can’t just leave for… how long would I need to be gone anyway?”
“Until we catch him.”
He sighed again. “Faith, the answer’s no. I love you, but the answer’s no.”
Faith looked away from David, trying to keep tears from forming in her eyes. God, why did no one listen to her? Why did everyone assume she was just paranoid? She’d been right so many times! When were people going to stop treating her like a damned mental patient?
The uncomfortable recollection came to her that she’d been wrong a few times as well when it came to the Copycat Killer. That thought did nothing to ease her fear or her anger. The tears she fought so hard to stifle finally came.
“David, please,” she said, wiping her eyes angrily. “I love you. You’re the most important person in the world to me. I know you think I’m crazy, but—”
“Hey, hey,” he interrupted. “I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“Just listen!” she snapped. “I know you think I’m overreacting to this letter, but this is my job, David. It’s my job to investigate murders and figure out what the people who commit those murders are thinking. As a professional, I am telling you that he wrote that note for me and that he threatened you. This is no less paranoid than if you examined an animal and found cancer. I’m trained to analyze evidence the way you’re trained to analyze medical conditions. Please believe me and get somewhere safe before it’s too late.”
He looked at her, and she could see in his eyes that he still didn’t believe her. She pleaded silently for him to at least listen to her, to at least follow her advice.
Finally, he sighed. “All right. Look. I… I usually take two weeks off to visit my family for my birthday. I suppose I could take the two weeks early this year. My family lives in Nevada. Is that far enough?”
She ignored the jibe in his question and sighed with relief. “Yes. Thank you, David.”
He forced a smile, and it hurt her that he had to force it, but it hurt less than him remaining in danger would have hurt. He made the hurt even easier when he said, “I’ll leave tomorrow morning. You can spend the night so you can make sure I’m safe. Will that work?”
“Yes,” she said, going to him and wrapping him in her arms. He held her close, and she breathed him in again.
Two weeks wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, but she would make it work. She had caught other criminals faster than that, and she knew this killer, knew him as she knew no other killer. She would find him and stop him whether the Boss wanted her to or not.
***
Dr. West smiled kindly at Faith and his compassion seemed perfectly genuine when he asked her, “How are you feeling?”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Not good,” she said honestly.
"I don't blame you," he said, "I hear about Gordon. It's incredibly difficult to lose a friend, and to lose him the way you did is even more difficult. I'm so sorry."
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