Blackwaters: A Kate Reid Novel (The Kate Reid Series Book 4) (24 page)

“I see. Do you believe that you and Agent Reid were cooperative after that?”

“Absolutely, sir, without a doubt, I called for the coroner and I informed the sheriff what had happened. We did everything by the book, no question.”

Campbell folded his hands on his desk. “Thank you, Deputy Burgess. I know there’s still some sharing of information that needs to occur to finalize the case, so I’ll let you and Agent Reid get back to work. Again, thank you for your assistance. Agent Reid has spoken very highly of you and now I can see why. I’ll be sure to let Sheriff Conroy know that he’ll have his man back before dawn.” Campbell rose to again shake hands. “Thank you for your time.”

Upon closing the door to Campbell’s office, Burgess began, “He seems a little intense.”

“He is. He’s a good boss, but intense describes him perfectly. All right, let’s get what we need so you can go home.”

The two hours that passed, passed quickly before Kate realized that Nick had returned. He now stood at her desk where she and Burgess were finishing up with the paperwork.

“How’s it going over here?” Nick asked.

“Good.” Kate turned to him. “I think we’re about finished here. We haven’t received any word regarding the identities of the remaining victims. Do you know if we’ll get that information or will it go to Lyons?”

“We should get it. Campbell had a talk with Lyons’ boss and he’s backing down. Both of the offices are keen to ensure outward appearances indicate nothing but cooperation between us.” Nick looked to Burgess. “I’m sure you’d like to get back home. Have they booked you a flight yet?”

“I haven’t checked, actually. I’m in no rush. If I can still be of use, I’m happy to stay here longer. Maybe leave tomorrow?” An inquisitive look was directed to Kate.

“That won’t be necessary.” Nick quickly intervened, offering his hand in thanks. “You’ve got your own situation brewing at home that I’m sure Sheriff Conroy will need your help with. The media will keep you all on your toes for a while. I can’t thank you enough for all your help. Really. Agent Reid couldn’t have followed through on her lead if you hadn’t been there to help.”

“Thank you, Agent Scarborough, I appreciate that.” Burgess took to his feet. “So, who should I see about that flight home?”

“I’ll make the call for you,” Kate replied. “If Agent Scarborough can give us just a few minutes to wrap this up, we’ll get you on the next plane out of here.”

“Of course.” Nick bowed his head and left the two alone.

“I’m sure the Bureau doesn’t want to foot the bill for a hotel stay,” Kate began. “Don’t take offense. They’re pretty cheap.”

“None taken. I’m just glad to have been of service.” He sat back down. “Well, I guess I’m not going to get a chance to say this before being unceremoniously shipped off, so I might as well say it.” He inhaled a deep breath. “I’d like to see you again sometime, Kate. Outside of work.” As if he needed to clarify.

His sincerity was quite clear as she studied his face. “Look, I’m sorry, Mike. I’ve got more baggage than most men could handle.”

“I’m not most men.”

“Please. If you knew, you’d think twice, I assure you. And I’m just not ready for anything like that right now.”

“Do you think you might be in the near future?” A coy, single brow raised. “I know the distance thing might be a problem, but I’d just like to get to know you better—and see where it goes. Look, it doesn’t have to be anything serious. Just, you know, whenever you have a spare weekend or you’re in my neck of the woods—that kind of thing.”

He was an attractive man; she’d felt that twinge as soon as she saw him and, for a moment, she did consider his request. “Maybe dinner. I don’t know. Sometime in the future, I guess. When we’re not busy finding serial killers.”

“That’s all I ask.” Burgess smiled wide and bright. “Okay, let’s get this finished up so I can get out of your hair.”

TWENTY-FOUR

T
he television screens
in the bar periodically rotated pictures of Zachariah Durham, but none of them could hear what the news anchors were saying. It didn’t really matter anyway. The press would beat the story to death, giving the killer all the attention he could have ever wanted. Durham was dead, but they continued to glorify him in such a way that it reminded Kate of Edward Shallot. His death seemed to spur on the media. All kinds of psychologists and so-called experts talking about how Shallot’s childhood would have been traumatic.

Maybe it was and Durham’s childhood certainly was, but where was the attention for the victims? Who would talk about the things they did in their lives, or could have done if they’d been given a chance to live? What about their families? Kate learned long ago that ratings were all that mattered and so the talking heads continued to explore the perverted and twisted life of Zachariah Durham.

Meanwhile, she tossed back the rest of her beer, returning her attention to Nick and Dwight. “Anyone ready for another?” She’d had enough already, but hey, she’d killed a very bad man. Didn’t she deserve to get drunk if she wanted?

“I am.” Nick raised his index finger at the cocktail waitress passing by and swirled it around, indicating they were ready for another round of drinks.

“Did you get your appointment with the counselor?” Dwight asked Kate.

She nodded. “I’m supposed to see him tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good. It’s just standard protocol, Kate. It’ll be fine.”

“I know.” She turned her sights on Nick. “What’s going on with Georgia? I saw her in your office a while ago.”

“She came in to apologize for what Lyons did. I guess she was pretty upset about the way he was trying to shift blame onto our team—making us appear incompetent. She also told me that she was going to request a different assignment—a different field office.”

The drinks arrived and Nick picked up his glass and raised it to his lips. “I knew better than to get involved with her. From the very first minute, I realized it was a mistake. But you know, I thought we were good together—for a while.” He poured the drink down and firmly placed the glass on the wood top table.

“It’s probably best if she does leave, Nick,” Dwight said. “I wouldn’t discount her talents for a second, but it’ll be best for both of you.”

“I didn’t ask her to leave. That’s on her. I could’ve handled it just fine. But I guess she can’t.” Nick looked at Kate. “Sure seemed like that Deputy Burgess had a thing for you, though.”

“What makes you say that?” She knew, of course, but didn’t think anyone else had overheard their conversations.

“I saw the way he looked at you. Reminded me of…” Nick turned away briefly, focusing on the one football game they were showing on the screens. He’d regretted beginning that sentence. “Nothing,” he said in a whisper.

It was obvious what he was about to say and Kate was glad he’d stopped himself.

“We should get preliminary autopsy reports from the Jacksonville coroner tomorrow,” Dwight said. “Hopefully, it will give us enough information to identify the remaining victims. I assume they’ll be girls from the area, so, Kate, you may need to get in touch with Burgess to make sure he gets a copy of the reports as well.”

“Of course.”

“I’m sorry all of this had to happen this week, Kate.” Nick seemed ready to return to the conversation. “It couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t fully hit me just yet.” Kate pressed her fingers against the necklace she still wore every day, although it remained beneath her clothing so as not to be a constant reminder to her friends sitting with her now. “I don’t think I want it to either. I’d just like it to be over, you know?” She cast her gaze down, shielding from view her welling eyes. “It never goes away, though. Not even for a second.”

“It will, Kate. Trust that it will get better,” Dwight began. “To be honest, you haven’t given yourself much time to deal with it. I mean, you moved here, you went through the Academy, which is hard enough, let alone dealing with a personal loss. I think that was your intention, but there has to come a time when you will have to deal with it all and that time might be now.”

She looked up at him, eyes still reddened, but not spilling with tears. “I have been dealing with it, Dwight. I just don’t let you guys see it.” She filled her lungs with air to bring calm. “And I’ll deal with this too, but maybe you’re right about Deputy Burgess. Would it be a bad thing for me to have someone to talk to and go out with every once in a while? I’m not talking anything serious, but I’ve only got you two in my life. Don’t get me wrong. I love having you both around. You’re my best friends, but Nick, you had Georgia and Dwight, well, I know your divorce has held you back for a while.”

“Don’t use me as an example. My relationship just flamed out.” Nick swallowed the melted remnants of his drink.

“You know what I mean,” Kate replied.

“If that’s what you need, Kate, then you should see him every now and again,” Dwight said. “He seems to be a good man. And you’re right, you should have more friends besides the two of us schleps.” Dwight elbowed Nick and laughed.

Kate glanced at the televisions again before returning her attention to the two of them. “None of this matters much anyway. Not when there are people out there like Durham.” She took a final swig of her bottle of beer.

“There’s always going to be another Zachariah Durham, Kate,” Nick replied.

“You’re right about that.” Dwight pulled out his wallet. “I’d better get out of here. I’ve got the kiddos this weekend and need to put some food in the fridge before tomorrow night.”

Nick slid out of the booth, allowing Dwight to edge his way through. “This case isn’t over yet. The sooner we can identify the other three victims, the sooner we can put this to bed and let those families have the closure they need.” He dropped a ten on the table. “I’ll be in early. Guess I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Dwight,” Kate replied.

“Night, buddy.” Nick watched Dwight disappear and began, “You took a lot of risks to get Durham, you know.”

“Yeah, I did.” She studied his face for a moment, waiting for some reprimand, but none came. “Would you have done anything different?”

He pressed his lips together, forming a wry smile. “No. No, I wouldn’t have done a damn thing differently. But it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to take a few days. Let things settle in. And I don’t just mean with handling the Durham situation.”

“I know.”

“I’m worried about you, Kate.”

She nodded. “I know that too, but you don’t need to be. I chose this. And, I don’t expect I’ll just forget about what I did. I suppose it’ll haunt me for a long while. Durham was a son of a bitch and we stopped him.”

“
You
stopped him, Kate. We had your back, but you pulled the trigger and that’s no easy thing to come to terms with, but I know you will—eventually, we all do.” Nick raised a hand to get the waitress’ attention. “You ready to get out of here? I don’t need any more to drink.”

Kate was relieved to hear him say that. Maybe she didn’t have to worry about him any longer. “I’m ready. Got a busy day ahead of us.” She pulled some cash out of her purse.

“Put your money back. I got this. It’s the least I can do considering you risked your life and all for the Bureau.” Nick grinned.

“Thanks, I appreciate that.” Kate returned a smile after placing the money back in her bag. She retrieved her phone to check for messages while Nick paid the bill. A missed call from Deputy Burgess caught her eye. Kate raised the phone to her ear to listen to the message. She noticed Nick’s glance for just a moment while it played, but darted her eyes away, feeling the slightest bit awkward by the exchange.

Nick placed the tip on the table and slid out of the booth. Kate soon followed. “Anything important?”

“No. It was just Deputy Burgess checking in to see if I needed anything from him. He’s back home and says things are pretty crazy at the station.”

“I bet. Let’s get out of here.” He stood aside while Kate made her way in front of him. He followed closely behind to the bar’s exit. Pushing the door open for her, Nick squinted from the bright lamppost only feet from the entrance. The streets were almost empty. It was late fall in D.C. and the weather was verging on cold. The Indian summer having finally abated. “You okay to drive home?”

“I’m good. I’ve been nursing the one drink for the past two hours.” She pressed the remote to unlock her car door, but it didn’t work. She tried again, still nothing. But the third time was a charm and it flashed its lights and clicked open. “I’ve got to get a new car.” Kate chuckled. “I’ll see you tomorrow and don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl.” She reached around his broad chest and held him tightly for a moment. Her head pressed against his right shoulder and she could feel him tense his muscles as if he objected to her embrace. She pulled back, mildly concerned by his reaction. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just had a chill jump up my spine.” He gripped her with one arm. It was a distant response. “Goodnight, Kate. Try to get some sleep.”

» » »

The porch light in front of her door had burned out, but fortunately, Kate kept a small flashlight in her purse. Shining the light onto the lock, she inserted her house key and opened the door. In the darkness, she found the hall light and flipped the switch, closing the door behind her and turning the deadbolt.

The first thing Kate always did once she was home was head to her bedroom and stow her weapon. A change of attire immediately followed and tonight it would be cut-off sweat pants and one of her FBI training t-shirts. The time was approaching midnight, but she didn’t feel tired. The rush of adrenaline must have still been coursing through her veins. Although, she’d hoped the beer might have taken the edge off—it hadn’t.

Kate curled up on her couch and turned on the late night talk show she enjoyed watching if she was home on time, which wasn’t often. She turned to the picture on her side table. The one of Marshall and her at her parents’ home. The one she still kissed before going to bed. Kate held it in her hands, studying it closely. She already knew every inch of the photo. Every wrinkle in Marshall’s smile. The moment sprang to life in her mind again. The memory bringing warmth to her heart.

He had been with her in that moment yesterday. She knew he had. She wasn’t ready to join him and he wasn’t going to let her. But perhaps the time had come to let go. A year had passed. A painful, difficult year, but she made it through. He’d helped her understand what her past meant. The challenges, the losses. Marshall would always be with her, but Kate believed she was ready to move on. It had been a long time coming—years, actually. She’d already decided to bury the memory of her abductor. Marshall helped her to bury the memory of her dearest friend and now she would have to put his memory in the same place where Sam lived.

Kate placed the picture back on the table. “I know you’ll always watch over me.” She looked at her phone on the couch and, with firm resolve, pressed the contact button and waited. It was late, but he would answer. “Hey, Mike. It’s not too late to call, is it?”

“Not at all. I was just thinking about you.”

» » »

Nick placed his suit jacket over the dining room chair and walked straight into the kitchen. A cabinet above the refrigerator was where he kept the booze. With an old-fashioned in his hand, he poured himself a double over the two ice cubes he’d dropped inside. Carrying the bottle in one hand and his glass in the other, Nick headed to his living room and dropped to the couch. The bottle of Maker’s Mark, an expensive whiskey that Georgia bought for him a few weeks ago after learning he was going back to work, was placed on his coffee table. Nick tossed the drink back without hesitation.

A single lamp on the table next to him glowed softly. Nick hunched over and grabbed the bottle, pouring himself another. This time, he rose to his feet and carried the drink to the sliding glass door that led to the balcony outside. He watched the boat he’d purchased bob gently in the water as the waves rolled into the bay. “God damn boat.” He threw back his second drink.

Nick began to think about his last conversation—argument—with Georgia at the sheriff’s office. He hadn’t wanted her to leave. Not then and not now. Her request for a transfer stung almost as badly as her betrayal. But it was the words she said in that final argument.

All this time and he’d had no idea she felt those things. It didn’t make any sense. He thought they were doing all right—getting along well. The job took its toll, sure, but they both knew that going in. Nick pushed his hand through his hair, trying to get around the idea that she was gone. And for that asshole, Lyons. They weren’t exactly friends, but they’d worked together. It was a pretty shitty thing for her to do. Then the guy tries to point the finger to who screwed up and let Durham go on to kill three more people. Would have been four if it hadn’t been for Kate. Nick was her supervisor and Lyons wanted the blame to fall on his shoulders, just to dig the knife in a little deeper.