Once I get through all the unpleasant small talk, it’s time to face Creagan. I don’t know how he’s going to react to my request. Particularly after I let him know I’m not requesting the full backing of the Bureau, or for them to get involved in the investigation again. This is all I need from him. Nothing more.
I knock on the door tentatively.
“Come in,” his gruff voice comes. I enter to see him poring over files on his desk. After a second passes, he finally looks up at me.
“Griffin,” he says with a mild note of surprise as if he hadn’t actually seen who I was.
“Creagan, I need a favor.”
“Is this another one of your personal cases?”
I take a deep breath. “Sort of?”
He rubs his temples and sets his jaw. “Griffin, how many times do we have to have this conversation? I can’t use Bureau resources to look into your personal—"
“It’s about my mother’s murder,” I interrupt him.
That gives him pause. I tell him the version of the story I’d rehearsed, doing my best to stick with exactly what will help him grant my request but not an inch more.
“You’re sure about this?” he asks, stroking his chin.
“A hundred percent,” I nod. “I’m confident whatever is in that casket will lead directly to the killers.”
I’m not a hundred percent confident, but I don’t have to tell him that.
He looks at me for a long moment, mulling it over in his head, then sighs.
“I’ll put in the request first thing in the morning.”
I break into a grin. “Thank you so much, Creagan.”
“Don’t mention it. Now get out of here and do what you’ve gotta do before I change my mind.”
I head back out into the snow, feeling like I’m moving forward. But there’s a part of me that aches as I walk to the parking deck. Sam holds my hand tightly between us. He doesn’t want to go back to my house any more than I do. We know when we do, he’ll have to leave. There’s still work to be done in Sherwood, and requesting the exhumation is creating even more work for him. Creagan will present the petition to the court, but having evidence of the break-ins at my house in Sherwood will make it more impactful. I can only hope the process is smooth and quick. I can’t sit around and wait for approval.
We get to the house, and he leans across the car to rest his forehead against mine.
“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” he asks.
“I don’t really have a choice,” I tell him. “But I will. You do what needs to be done there, and I’ll keep in touch with you.”
“Please, do,” he says. “I’m going to worry about you every second.”
“I know you will. Thank you for that.”
He laughs softly. “So now you’re thanking me for worrying about you? That seems new.”
“I guess I’ve grown,” I tease.
Sam kisses me.
“Be safe,” he says.
“I will have my phone and my gun with me at all times,” I promise him.
“Keep your wits about you, too,” he says. “That’s usually the most important. I know you want this over. But when it is, I want you back home with me.”
I want to promise him I will be, but I stop myself. With no idea of what’s ahead of me or what I might be called on to do, I can’t promise that. All I can do is kiss him again.
“I do, too,” I whisper.
The lights aren’t on inside the house, so Sam insists on checking everything before he goes. He says it’s so I will feel safe being there alone, but I know it’s just as much for his peace of mind. I wave goodbye to him with a knot in my throat. Not because I’m afraid, but because the uncertainty ahead makes me want him with me.
But this is the life I’ve chosen. I walked away from Sam once to pursue my career. I did it so I would never feel torn between what I needed to do for my career and the lifestyle I had at home. Now that I’ve gone back on that and made the decision to share my life with Sam again, I have to accept the balance. There will be times when duty will call both of us away. It just means we have to give everything we can while we’re working, then make the most of every moment we can be together.
The house feels empty and quiet. When I turn on a light in my kitchen, I notice a piece of paper stuck to the front of the refrigerator with one of the random assortment of magnets Dad and I collected over the years. Seeing it puts me on edge. I grab hold of my phone as I approach it. My shoulders relax when I see Dean’s name scrawled across the bottom.
“Won’t be back tonight. See you tomorrow.”
I immediately open my phone and call Bellamy. She stayed at headquarters after I left to help Eric, but she should be done by now. If I catch her fast enough, I might be able to rope her into an impromptu sleepover. The call is on its fourth ring when I hear a key in the front door.
“I’m sorry, I can’t talk right now,” Bellamy says into the phone as she walks in carrying a massive bag of Thai food.
“Too bad, I was going to ask you to come over,” I say.
“Should have acted faster. I have a hot dinner date.”
We end the call, and I cross the room to hug her.
“Thank you,” I smile. “I don’t think it
