Velocity

“How was Aunt Faye?”

“Fine.”

Vail sat on the edge of his bed. “I hope you two spent some time together. It was awfully nice of her to come out here to stay with you. Did you make her feel welcome?”

“We went out to dinner. And we caught a few movies.”

“Good, good. Did you get to know her?”

He bobbed his head. “Yeah. We talked. She’s easy to talk to.”

Vail’s brow rose. “Good. That’s good to hear. I’m glad you two connected. She hasn’t seen you in, well, a good five years. I doubt you remember her.”

“We went to some state fair with her and she took me for ice cream. That’s pretty much all I remember. She said we used to go to her house for a barbecue on the Fourth, but I don’t remember any of that.” He leaned back in his chair. “So is Robby coming by? I just unlocked a new character and I wanted to show him how I did it. He’s gonna be so fucking jealous.”

“Watch your mouth, please.” She felt hypocritical—she was admittedly free with the expletives at times, but tolerating it from her son was a different matter. Of greater concern was what she should tell Jonathan about Robby. The truth was always best. But in this case, was it? Was lying to her son the lesser of two evils? “I don’t think Robby’s coming by, sweetie. Not for a while.” There we go. Spoon it out until he stops asking questions—and maybe he’ll satisfy his curiosity before she has to go into detail.

“You two broke up?”

Vail waved a hand. “No, nothing like that. We had a great time in Napa.” Of the time we had together. Before he vanished. She rose from the bed and swept a hand across his cheek.

“Hey,” he said. “What’s up with that cop who’s following me around? It’s annoying.”

“Just a precaution, sweetie. I don’t want my work spilling over into my personal life.” Now there’s a novel idea. “Shouldn’t be too much longer.” She pointed at his Xbox. “Get back to your game. I’m going to go unpack.” Jonathan slipped on his headphones and Vail walked out.

36

Care to tell me what really happened in California?”

Vail let go of Jonathan’s doorknob and turned to see Faye standing in the hallway, hands on her hips.

She was tired and mentally drained. Now was not the best time. Still, she owed Faye some explanation. And she needed to ask her for a favor.

Vail walked back toward the living room and they sat down next to each other on the couch. Not two months ago, she and Robby were making out on this sofa, headed toward a promising future, despite a brief interruption by the Dead Eyes killer.

“How was your visit with Jonathan?”

Faye’s face brightened and broadened into a grin. “I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I rather enjoyed it. We had some good talks. About his father. He had some unanswered questions.”

Vail sighed. She had talked with Jonathan about what happened between her and Deacon but held back some of the details. She wasn’t sure what the raw truth would do to a young teen and his place in the world. Then again, it was no secret to Jonathan that his father had turned into an abusive deadbeat. And Vail explained to her son that Deacon was a different person when she had met and married him. It was a good lesson as to the depths one can sink when a perfect storm of mental imbalance, medication indifference, and the spiral of depression conspire to bring down a person to the nadir of human suffering.

“How’d he take the answers?” Faye had a background in counseling, so Vail was not surprised that she had broached the topic with her nephew.

“Very maturely, I thought. He had a healthy perspective. I think he’ll be fine. So—your trip.”

“It started out wonderful and I stuck my nose where it shouldn’t have been. I got involved in a case. And because of that . . . ” She looked down at the coffee table. The short, squat bottle of V. Sattui Madeira she had shared with Robby was still there, a memory of their night together. A reminder of the start of a meaningful relationship. If she thought there was a chance it would hold Sebastian’s fingerprints, she would’ve driven it directly to the lab.

“And because of that,” Faye prompted.

“Because of that . . . Robby went missing a few days ago.” She brought her eyes up to Faye’s. Her aunt’s mouth was open.

“What do you mean, ‘went missing’?”

Vail got a couple glasses from the adjacent kitchen, poured some Madeira, and told Faye the whole story, beginning with their arrival in Napa. Soon the alcohol was flooding her bloodstream, making her head and arms feel like dumbbells.

“Do you think Detective Bledsoe’s friend will be able to help?”

It was a question Vail had asked herself on the drive home from Clyde’s. “I sure as hell hope so.” She set her glass down on the table. “Aunt Faye, I have a favor to ask. And a proposition.”

Faye leaned forward, apparently sensing the weight of Vail’s request.

“Because of the nature of the investigation into Robby’s . . . disposition, it may be necessary for me to come and go. Where, I don’t know. But it could also entail long hours away from home.” She put two fingers to the bridge of her nose. “Point is, I have no idea what’s coming around the bend.”

“You need me to stay,” Faye said. Her demeanor was flat, neither excited by the idea nor turned off by it.

“And that brings me to my proposition,” Vail said. “The room in the back. It’s got a separate entrance, its own bathroom. There’s even a plug for a mini fridge.”

“Move here, move in with you.”

“You’d be closer to me and Jonathan, and to Mom.” Vail’s mother, Emma, had Alzheimer’s, and Vail had moved Emma from her childhood home in Westbury, New York, to an assisted care facility in Virginia.

“First things first,” Faye said in a measured response. “Of course I’ll stay for as long as you need me to. As to a longer-term arrangement, let me think about it. I don’t have much keeping me in New York, but I just need to sit with the thought for a while. Okay?”

“Take as much time as you need.” Vail barely got out the words before a yawn overtook her and flooded her eyes with fluid. “I’ve gotta get to bed. I haven’t slept worth anything in days.”

“Don’t worry about anything here, Kari. You just work on finding out what happened to Robby. I’ll handle the rest.”

Vail said good night to Jonathan, walked into her bedroom, and collapsed onto the mattress.

37

Following their dinner at Bistro Jeanty, Robby ordered dessert to go, and when they arrived at their bed-and-breakfast room, he made her wait outside. When she protested, he smiled. “You said you trusted me.”

She tilted her head back and looked up into his eyes. “I do.”

Inside, a room full of candles. And a night of passionate lovemaking . . .

Vail awoke from her dream curled into a tight ball. Her shirt was soaked, her hair matted to her face. Only this was not a nightmare—it was a memory. A memory of their last night together. The next morning, when she gave him a kiss on her way out, would be the last she would see of him.

Vail sat up in bed, wiped away the tears, and steeled herself. It was time to go to work.

VAIL WALKED INTO the behavioral analysis unit and found it a flurry of activity. Despite Thomas Gifford’s claim that most of the profilers were out on leave, on assignment, or engrossed in vital projects, there was plenty going on.

Vail entered her office and sat down heavily. A stack of files on the corner of her desk was exactly as she had left it when she departed for California. A pile of messages was skewered on a pin to the right. She pulled them off,