The 7th Victim

to see it from her point of view. Vail hadn’t yet given her an explanation.

“If this is about being removed from the task force, I’m afraid that’s something you’ll have to take up with the police department. Contrary to what you may’ve heard, I have no influence over the machinations of the Fairfax County PD.”

“With all due respect, I don’t believe that for one moment. However, that’s not why I’m here.” Linwood started to object, but Vail held up a hand. “I want to tell you a story about two women born—”

“I don’t have time for bedtime stories, Agent Vail. I’ve got—”

“You’ll want to hear this one, Senator.” Vail had leaned forward, her eyebrows hunched downward. “It’s a story about two sisters born in Brooklyn. One of them, nine years older, always seemed to be the one who made the correct decisions in life. The younger one went out of her way to be different and often got into trouble.”

Linwood rose from the couch. “I don’t see what this has to do with anything—”

“I’ll get to the point,” Vail said, then began speaking faster. “The younger sister—we’ll call her Nellie—got herself pregnant. This angered her parents, a good Catholic family who didn’t believe in premarital sex. They disowned her. Depressed and unprepared for dealing with a newborn, Nellie showed up at her older sister’s house. She asked her sister to watch the baby for a couple of hours while she went to a movie. Nellie never returned, and the baby was raised by the aunt and uncle.”

Vail detected tears in Linwood’s eyes. The senator sunk down in the couch and Vail continued: “Nellie, out on her own, got a couple of low-paying jobs before realizing she needed to straighten herself up. She met someone, an up-and-coming heir to a booming family business that supplied shipping containers to international transportation companies. Having just graduated from Harvard with his MBA, the man met Nellie and fell in love. Now here’s the interesting part,” Vail said, leaning forward. “Her knight in shining armor helped her get a new social security number, new name, new background, new identity. Nellie ceased to exist.” Vail reached into her shoulder-slung portfolio case and removed a hunk of papers. She dropped them on the couch beside Linwood. “It’s all in there.”

Linwood’s eyes fell to the stack of documents, atop which was a copy of the picture of Emma and Nellie Irwin. Linwood gently removed the photo and looked at it for a long moment. She then noticed the computer- enhanced image, and raised an eyebrow. Her gaze drifted away, coming to rest on the turn-of-the-century wood floor. Finally, she spoke. “Nellie needed to start a new life. When she met Richard, it was like a dream come true. His father had the connections to make her past go away. And to give her a new future. It was much easier to do in those days.” After a moment, her eyes found Vail’s. “You’ll never prove any of it. I don’t care what’s in those papers. You go to the media, I’ll deny it all.”

Vail’s chin shot backward. “The media? Who cares about the media?”

“Why else would you dig into my past? To force me into helping you get back on the task force? To discredit me in my campaign—”

“This has nothing to do with your campaign, and it’s got nothing to do with the task force.” She paused, hoping Linwood would catch on. But she didn’t. Finally, Vail forged ahead. “Senator, I’m that newborn you left at Emma’s house thirty-eight years ago.”

A tear meandered down Linwood’s cheek, then dropped to her lap.

“I’m your daughter.”

Linwood rose again, turned her back to Vail, appeared to swipe at her tears. Still trying to appear composed and in control. Trying to digest this information with as much dignity as she could garner and still absorb the shock of the revelation. “What do you want from me?” she finally asked.

What do I want from her? Vail thought for a second. She had been so focused on putting together the pieces of the puzzle that she hadn’t allowed her mind enough time to analyze her feelings. She had a task, one that piqued her curiosity, one that helped ease the gnawing concern over Jonathan’s condition. But now she needed an answer. The first thought left her lips before she could consider it. “I want to know who my biological parents are. Or were.” She rubbed her eyes. “I just found out I wasn’t Emma’s child. I went to visit her yesterday. She’s got Alzheimer’s and thought I was you.”

Linwood was silent.

“You might want to go see her. Make amends—”

“Thank you, Agent Vail, for your concern.”

“At least call me Karen.”

Linwood bowed her head, rested a hand against the wall, steadying herself. Symbolic support for what she was about to say. But as the seconds passed, Linwood did not talk. Did not move.

“Tell me about my father.”

Linwood’s head lifted and she stared at the ceiling. “I think it’s best you leave now.”

Vail should have anticipated such a response. If Linwood had, in fact, worked to bury her past—and Vail now had confirmation of that—then that would be the last topic Linwood would want to discuss.

“You abandoned your child. How could you do that?”

“There’s more to it than you know, or should ever know.” The senator was quiet a long moment, then her shoulders rolled forward. As if realizing she needed to explain further, she said, “It was the best thing for both of us at the time. I had my own survival to worry about. Believe me, it was a good thing Emma was there.”

Though Vail had seen druggie teenagers with babies—women who didn’t know what responsibility was, or what it meant to be a mother—she had a hard time seeing the regal Eleanor Linwood in the same light. But Vail had not come there to understand why her mother had abandoned her. Or perhaps she had. Perhaps it was something she should ask about, if nothing else to understand. But either Linwood was a closed individual, or the thought of having abandoned her daughter was too painful to relive, even harder to discuss. For the moment, Vail would focus on finding her father. It might be easier for a man to talk about the past he had left behind.

“Senator, I need to know about my father. You have that information. I can find it out by other means, but the attention I’d draw would probably be something you’d want to avoid.”

“It was another lifetime. One I’d rather forget.”

“Am I that much of a disappointment to you?”

Linwood spun to face her. Her eyes were swollen and red. “This has nothing to do with you.” Her gaze was fixed on Vail, as if there was more she wanted to say. But she hesitated, then finally shook her head.

“I’m sorry to have brought this anguish to the surface. I would’ve thought you’d be glad to see me. But obviously you’re not. Fine, I’ll deal with that. Give me the info I want and I’ll be out of your life.”

Linwood looked away. “Even if I tell you who your father is, nothing good will come of it.”

“You don’t know that.”

Her eyes narrowed. “In fact, I do.”

“Maybe he’s not the same person he was forty years ago.”

“Someone like that doesn’t change.”

“Senator, your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell him who you are or where you live.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

Vail began to feel the same frustration she’d felt hundreds of times in the past, sitting in an interview room opposite a skel she knew was guilty, but who refused to give it up. There was one case where a kidnapper would not divulge the location of his victim. Vail never could elicit the information, and they never found the woman. She felt that frustration now, swelling in her throat, threatening to choke her.

Vail took a cleansing breath and slipped into interrogation mode, using techniques she taught at the Academy. “You’re worried he’ll find you, that my poking around will somehow compromise your secret. Or even make him resurface, bring him back into your life. I can understand that. But I won’t let it happen. You have my word.”

“It would destroy my political career. I’m gearing up for reelection. My opponent would take me to task in the media if he found out about my association with your father. And if it ever got out I’d changed my identity—”

“No one would be able to piece it together. I’ll make sure of that.”

Linwood swallowed hard. “Agent Vail . . . Karen. . . .” She sat back down on the edge of the sofa. “It was a long time ago. I was young and stupid and didn’t know any better. As soon as I realized the kind of person he was, I left him. It took me longer than it should’ve, but I was scared.”

Vail thought of herself, and her marriage to Deacon. She, too, should’ve seen the warning signs months