He cursed and corrected, keeping his patrol car on the road by the skin of his teeth.
Jim looked in the rearview just as a long, tall woman climbed from the driver’s seat and watched him drive away.
The Talley girl. No doubt she’d seen him now.
It was going to be over soon. Then maybe Helen would stop haunting him with every breath he took.
42
Miranda had worked with Carrie Lorcan before. The woman was good at her job, about Miranda’s age, and quiet. She reminded Miranda a good deal of her younger sister, Meyra. Carrie was on the autism spectrum, as was Meyra.
She’d always worked well with Carrie when their paths had crossed.
Carrie had been assigned this case—normally, she remained in St. Louis supervising her team of computer tech investigators, of which Jac was an assistant supervisor—to help get the woman she’d brought with her up to speed before turning the trainee over to Jac for a month or so. That tech—Dr. Appell—was now with Jac, learning how to integrate with a local law-enforcement agency while the opportunity was there. Joel Masterson’s chief deputy Zach Lowell was a tech junkie, same as Jac, and he’d volunteered to help with the process.
Miranda just thought Zach had a bit of a crush on Jac, even though Max was around glaring whenever this Deputy Lowell got too close.
“Do you think we’re getting closer?” Carrie asked quietly. She didn’t say much when they were in larger groups. Miranda understood that. Some people just did better one on one.
“I do. The whole thing reads as a crime of the moment. No doubt a family argument gone wrong. I don’t think anything was premeditated. It’s just a matter of identifying who was where.”
“Good.”
“Anxious to get home?”
“Yes. Malcolm is teething. It can give him an ear infection sometimes. And Maddie has been clingy lately. I don’t want Sebastian to get overwhelmed.”
Miranda laughed quietly. “I don’t think there’s a Lorcan brother alive who can get overwhelmed. Those three can handle just about anything.”
Miranda had worked with all three of the Lorcan brothers at one point or another. They were bureau legends, even more now. Three identical men, all three assigned to PAVAD, and they were very, very good at their jobs.
So were their wives, who Miranda considered among her friends.
“So how is Dr. Knight holding up?” Carrie asked suddenly. It surprised Miranda. Carrie normally didn’t ask questions like that.
“Ok, I think. Why?” Miranda shot a look at the other redhead as she pulled up to the stop sign where the highway they were on merged with the one they’d need to take.
A slightly guilty look passed through Carrie’s hazel eyes. “I’ve been asked to do a spot check on him. See how he’s doing with this team.”
“By?” Miranda had her suspicions.
“Director Dennis. He really wants Knight to take over this new division. He’s supposedly really good at ferreting out information about the past. Director Dennis is just afraid that the history between Dr. Knight and PAVAD, especially that with the Brockmans, will be a problem.”
Miranda thought for a moment. “I think he’s having some struggles. I think he’s having headaches, for one thing. He mentioned it in passing before. I know bright lights can trigger them. As for his relationship with the Brockmans—I’m not about to touch that with a ten-foot pole. But…he knows his stuff. I think he’s doing ok, Care. I really do—”
“Look out!” Carrie yelled.
Miranda looked back at the road, just as a WSP patrol car swerved over the yellow line.
She jerked the wheel to the right, sending the borrowed truck onto the shoulder. Two feet from the guardrail and the sheer drop next to it. Wreck Curve Road was the worst, most dangerous road in the county. There were said to be ghosts there, too.
The patrol car sped off into the distance, just leaving them there. He hadn’t even slowed down.
Miranda pulled in a deep breath and killed the engine. “You ok, Carrie?”
The other woman gripped the handle of the door tightly, but Carrie seemed ok. “I’ve been ran off the road before, but never by a patrol car.”
Miranda’s mind ran over what had happened in the few seconds before the truck had gone onto the shoulder. “Yeah. He was in our lane.”
“Distracted.”
“Did you get any identifying details?”
“Checked the plate number when he went by. Got half. Got half.” Carrie rattled it off quickly, then took a few deep breaths.
“We’ll check in with Clint after a while. His house is just a mile or so down that road there. He might know what squad car would be out around here this time of day. Because there was no reason that should have happened. I’m going to get out, check the truck.”
“I’ll go with you.”
They checked as quickly as they could. Miranda had been afraid they’d popped one of the tires—it had made a nasty sound when she’d jerked it over the pavement. But they’d gotten lucky. “I think we’re good.”
Carrie’s hand wrapped around Miranda’s arm, and she pointed. Miranda heard it before seeing it.
A baby was crying from somewhere nearby. Loudly.
A woman came around the curve, stumbling and crying—holding a wailing infant in her arms, tucked close to her chest. Little arms and legs flailed everywhere from a baby Miranda had no trouble recognizing.
It was the blood that Miranda would never forget.
43
Miranda stared at the redheaded woman who’d been Dusty’s best friend from about the first day they’d entered kindergarten together. And that was definitely Clint’s baby in her arms. “Maggie! What happened?”
“I…” There was blood on Maggie. Her blue eyes were wide, and Miranda had no difficulty recognizing shock setting in. “He…shot the house.”
“Who shot the house?” Carrie Lorcan asked, stepping closer, her hand wrapped tightly around her phone. She’d been just about to call Jac and report the incident to the rest of the team, as per PAVAD protocol. “Is your baby ok?”
“That’s Clint Gunderson’s daughter,” Miranda told the other agent quickly. Miranda’s weapon was
