“I’m assuming it really shook the town,” Tara said, and Reinhardt nodded.
“So much so that the family relocated,” he replied.
Tara sat silently, absorbing it all. Dan Asher had witnessed a tragedy just like the ones he created. He chose adolescent girls. He kidnapped them, burying their bodies. It wasn’t a coincidence; Tara was sure of it. She remembered the news coverage when her mother was murdered, reporters waiting outside her house, wanting to get a glimpse of the poor child that had lost her mother at the hands of her father. Her grandmother shielded her from it as much she could, but Tara knew why they were there.
But Dan Asher was older, much more aware when tragedy struck his family. And it was a missing person case—it would’ve stirred more attention. He had seen at a young age the effects of the media, and it suddenly made sense why he chose it as a career path. It was the same reason Tara chose to be an FBI agent—to be on the other side of a tragedy, to be in control.
Tara’s stomach churned at the thought, at the connection. But then another thought pushed forward, setting them apart. The career had never been enough for him. He craved more. He craved murder. And instead of using his career to prevent what he had witnessed, he craved creating the only story he knew best.
“Everything all right?” It was Warren’s voice, and Tara snapped out of her thoughts to see him and Reinhardt staring at her.
“Just a lot to absorb,” she replied.
Warren nodded. “Sounds like he had some deep psychological issues that motivated him.”
Tara agreed, more than Warren would ever understand.
Reinhardt slapped the folder closed on his desk and sighed again. “You two are pretty impressive together, I have to say.” He looked from Warren to Tara. Warren looked over at Tara and smiled as Reinhardt grew silent and stood up, leaning over his desk. He stared right into Tara’s eyes, and then Warren’s. “You two did an excellent job,” he added before a smile burst on his face and he reached out, shaking both their hands. Tara’s heart swelled. It was the exact ending to the case she had hoped for but had feared it would not come, that her instincts were wrong.
Reinhardt then looked behind them to the glass wall separating his office from the rest of the floor. “You guys are becoming famous around here,” he joked as he motioned for them to look behind them. Tara turned around to see each agent was out of their cubicle, standing in the aisle, clapping and whistling.
“Go on,” Reinhardt added with a flick of his wrist. They were done for the day, and it was his way of saying to enjoy it, to savor the moment.
Tara and Warren both stepped out of the office, and the floor burst into a roar and clapping. Some agents came up to them, patting them on their back, shaking their hands, congratulating them. It was a feeling like no other and a reaction Tara had not expected. A smile broke out on her face. When it finally simmered down, Tara turned to Warren. The same satisfaction that Tara felt reflected on his face as well.
“I wish we could get a drink to celebrate,” he said to her.
Warren had never asked to get a drink with Tara, and it felt like a newfound bond and respect had formed between them. But she also could sense that it was a segue to something more.
“You can’t?” Tara asked.
He shook his head, still with a smile. He lowered his mouth to her ear, as if telling her a secret. “I have a date,” he whispered. He pulled back, his smile even wider. It was contagious. Tara had never seen him so happy, and she smiled instantaneously.
“With who?” But at that very moment, Warren’s eyes wandered and his smile beamed even wider. Tara followed his gaze to see Dr. Harris opening the large glass doors of their division, and as the door swung open, she met Warren’s eyes. She waved at him before continuing down the hall. “Dr. Harris?” Tara whispered. She had remembered that Warren dated her before, but he refused to pursue it further. It was too painful for him.
He nodded as he turned fully to Tara. “And thank you,” he added. Tara had no clue what for, and she was about to ask him, but he stopped her. “For reminding me that my wife would want me to find happiness.” At his words, Tara recalled their conversation in the car on the way to the camera store, when she had mentioned that she dug into her past for her mother—for justice and because Tara knew she wouldn’t want her past to plague her. It was something that had clearly hit Warren hard.
Tara nodded. “Good for you, Warren.”
He smiled again at as he looked at his watch. “She’s going to be out of work soon, I better go home and take a shower after today’s events.” He then looked back up at Tara. “What are you going to do?”
The recollection of their conversation only reminded Tara that she had something to do of her own. “I think I’m going to New York,” she replied. It had occurred to her that if she were to find out who that woman visiting her father truly was, she was going to have to come face-to-face with her. She already knew what time the woman visited him, and Tara was ready to confront her.
“You sure you’re going to be all right?” he asked.
Tara wasn’t sure, but she knew that the only way she could be okay for
