him?”
I didn’t have an answer to that, but I needed to move her away from that train of thought. “We need to get you somewhere safe. You still have friends at the agency?”
“Not really. Besides, I’m not sure I want to go there. Not right now.”
“Why not?”
“This was a professional tag team,” she said. “They were there for a reason. And that’s got me racking my brain and second-guessing everything, ’cause I can’t for the life of me think of what the hell anyone could want from me. I mean, ever since I left the agency, my life couldn’t be any more ordinary. Which can only mean that it has something to do with my past life. And if it does, then I’m not sure who I can trust at the agency. I worked undercover. Not many people knew what I did. Which means that if someone’s after me because of my days on the job, then they’ve got a feed from the inside. That’s partly why I called you.”
The other part was obvious. And anyway, I was glad she did.
“All right. What about San Diego PD?”
“I can’t call them up. Not like this. If they found Tom dead in our front hall, how’s it going to look? Spouses and girlfriends make great suspects, right? Hell, the gun I took off one of them’s probably the one they shot him with, and now it’s got my prints all over it.”
“You not calling it in makes it look worse.”
“I know. But if I do a walk-in, it’s gonna get messy. You know how these things play out. They’re gonna assume the worst and they’re gonna want to hold me while they figure things out. And I don’t want to do that and have Alex palmed off to some CPS deadbeat,” referring to the state’s Child Protection Services agencies. “He’s four, Sean.”
“Do you have family nearby?”
“No, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to be away from him, not for a second,” she fired back forcefully. “Not while those
“If they’re after you, he might be safer away from you.”
“No way. I’m not letting him out of my fucking sight,” she shot back.
“Okay,” I said as something warm stirred up inside me, a flash of memory of her indomitable force of will, sparked by the colorful expressions she liked to throw around. I checked my watch. It was a little after half past twelve. “I need you to lay low for a few hours, until I get there.”
“Sean, I didn’t—”
“I’m coming, Meesh,” I cut in. I was already climbing into the car and firing it up. “I’ll grab the first flight out. Should be with you in seven, eight hours tops.”
She went quiet for a moment, then said, “Wow.”
“What?”
“No, I . . . Thanks. I guess deep down I was hoping you’d say that.”
“Just sit tight, okay?” I was already out of my parking spot and weaving past slower cars. “Where can you stay till then?”
“I’ll find a hotel, near the airport. I’ll wait for you there.”
“Sounds good. You got cash?”
“There’s an ATM here.”
“Use it and put your cards away.” I thought about what she’d said. A professional tag team. “Pull your phone’s battery, too. And ditch the car. Take a cab or a bus.”
“Okay,” she replied. “I’ll call you from the hotel to let you know where I am.”
“All right, I’ll probably be on the plane by then, so leave me a voicemail,” I said, flying past a slow-moving car while trying to make sure I had all the bases covered. “Hang in there, Meesh. We’ll sort this out.”
“Sure,” she replied, sounding far from convinced.
I hesitated, then said, “Hey, Meesh.”
“What?”
“You should have told me.”
I had to say it.
It’s what I felt, and, dammit, she should have.
The line went silent for a long second, then she said, “Yeah,” her tone pained and remorseful. “Well . . . better late than never, huh?”
My heart felt like it was in a vise. “Is he okay? Alex?”
“He’s great. You’ll see.”
I felt a little tear inside. “Hit that ATM and pull your battery,” I reminded her. “I’ll see you in a little while.”
I clicked off and hit the speed dial for Nick Aparo, my partner at the Bureau. I needed to let him know what was going on and get him to help me figure out how I was going to get to San Diego as fast as possible.
Staring ahead as the call connected, I felt drained, reeling from the bombshell Michelle had lobbed at me. Drained, and torn by conflicting emotions—I’d been desperate to have a kid, so desperate that it had almost split me and Tess up, but at the same time, I knew this news would hit Tess hard. Real hard.
4
I had just enough time for a quick swoop on the house I shared with Tess and Kim, where I threw a few things into a backpack and holstered up before hopping on the I-95 and riding it all the way down to Newark.
My fastest option, as per my call to my partner, was an early afternoon United flight that connected via Denver. I’d lose an hour on the ground there, but there was no way around that. Not unless I was prepared to try to bullshit my way into getting a Bureau jet to fly me out there and, assuming that worked, end up facing an OPR investigation that would most likely get me fired. I’d been down that route before. I’d narrowly avoided a run-in with the open-minded sweethearts from the Bureau’s Office of Professional Responsibility a few years ago, after I’d followed Tess onto a flight to Istanbul without clearing it with my boss first. Problem was, I couldn’t be open about why I needed a jet this time, not without spilling the beans on what was going on with Michelle. Aparo and I had argued about the merits of gaining an hour versus the extra risks Michelle could face if her whereabouts were more widely known, and I had grudgingly agreed with him that an hour’s delay in getting to her was worth risking if it meant she got to stay dark till I got there.
Traffic was sparse, and as I drove on, my mind was skittering all over the place. Michelle’s revelation was no less than a life-changer. There would be a whole host of ripples I’d need to deal with. Of those, none would be more delicate to navigate than the one that had hogged my thoughts the whole way down—the same one, in fact, that was now rousing my BlackBerry as I took the off-ramp toward the terminal.
For a moment, I debated whether or not to pick up, but I knew I couldn’t duck the call.
“Hey.”
“Hey, handsome,” Tess’s voice boomed. “How’s the bachelor weekend going? The Shermans haven’t had to call the cops out, have they?”
Her voice was like a balm to my battered senses. “They threatened to, but we’re cool.”
“How’d you manage that?”
“I invited them over and offered them one of our bongs. The thing is, now I can’t get rid of them. Those kids can party.”
I heard her chuckle as she probably pictured the seventy-something-year-old couple next door in full frat- house mode—not an attractive sight, trust me—and I grabbed the moment.
“Hey, I can’t talk right now. I’m about to jump on a plane.”
“Oh, baby,” she teased, “you can’t wait till next weekend, huh?”
I managed a small chortle. “Not exactly.”
Tess dropped the playful tone. “Yeah, I kind of figured. What’s going on? Where are you flying?”
