She had done what needed to be done. She knew deep down that no one would’ve listened to her, and if she spent the time trying to get them to, she may have been too late.
Tara peered into the ambulance. An EMT sat against the wall, while Warren held a phone to his ear. His head lifted slightly as Tara approached, and he said his goodbyes to the person on the other line.
“Is it all right if I ride with you?” Tara asked as she stepped inside the vehicle.
Both Warren and the EMT nodded, but didn’t speak as Tara sat down beside them.
“How are you feeling?” Tara asked as she met Warren’s eyes.
“I’ve been better, but I’ll survive.” He placed his phone down beside him as another EMT closed the doors of the ambulance. “I spoke to Sheriff Brady,” Warren added as the vehicle rumbled to a start. “I think this all rocked her confidence a bit. She couldn’t believe what happened.”
Tara agreed that she could see why it would, given that Brady was so sure they had already found the killer.
Warren took a deep breath. “And I’m sorry, Mills. I should’ve listened to you,” he finally said.
The EMT stared at the wall in front of him, as if feeling like he were intruding on a private moment.
“I’m sorry too,” Tara replied.
Warren shook his head. “Don’t apologize. You shouldn’t have gone off on your own but I really didn’t give you much of a choice.”
His words surprised Tara. She was sure he was going to reprimand her for what she did—for going off on her own—but it was clear now that he wasn’t planning on doing so.
“It was a valuable lesson to me,” he continued as he lay on the stretcher, staring at the ceiling above him.
Tara had never quite seen him so reflective. The events had clearly shaken him too. “You’re good at this, Mills. And I didn’t take your words seriously because you haven’t been in this job long, but that was foolish of me.”
Tara reassured him that it was okay, that she understood, but her words only breezed past him, as if they weren’t even heard.
“As your partner, I owe it to you to always hear you out.”
Tara nodded. “As do I,” she replied, feeling a sudden newfound respect from him.
The ambulance fell into silence as it bumped along the dirt road. But then Tara’s phone suddenly rang and Warren glanced over at her. Her palms began to sweat as she saw who it was.
“It’s Reinhardt,” she told Warren, whose eyes widened slightly at the mention of his name.
It was the first time Reinhardt was calling Tara directly. During this whole case, Warren had always been the point of contact, and she wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad that the tables had suddenly turned. She quickly picked up the call.
“Are you with Warren?” he asked abruptly after Tara said hello.
She affirmed that, yes, she was indeed with him.
“Everyone’s okay?” he asked.
“Yes, everyone seems to be doing fine,” Tara replied.
“Good, and you?”
It was the first time Tara fully thought about how she was. She was okay, but deep down, the events of today really had taken a toll on her. She was exhausted—mentally and physically—and the thought that she avoided death by fractions was a thought that she hadn’t quite fully grasped.
“I’ll be okay,” she finally said.
“Good, because I want to see you both when you’re back in D.C., right away.”
Tara didn’t dare ask why, and she didn’t know if it was to congratulate her or fire her for her rashness, but she agreed. And after hanging up, she contemplated each scenario in her mind as the ambulance turned on its sirens and made its way down the road.
Chapter Thirty Four
Tara reached for the handle, opened the door, and stepped out of the taxi, into the streets of Washington, D.C. It felt good to be home, to see the city again, and to be far away from the woods. As she walked around the taxi to meet Warren on the other side, she made note of her surroundings—roads, sidewalks, people—and her mind relaxed. She was now far away from the forest, from the Appalachian Trail, and it was the final confirmation she needed to feel that the case was completely finished, that she could move forward.
She was always someone who loved the outdoors—who found nature centering—but for the first time, as she looked around at bicycles whizzing by, pedestrians walking briskly in a hurry, it felt more like home than it ever had. All she wanted now was to see John, to be in her apartment, unwinding from this exhausting ordeal. But she knew she had one more thing left to do—they had to go see Reinhardt.
Tara followed behind Warren and forced a smile as they walked toward the entrance of the FBI headquarters. On the plane, Warren had tried to reassure her that there was no way she would lose her job, but she had seen a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, which made her feel increasingly uneasy.
As much as Tara wanted to believe it, there was a part of her that knew Reinhardt wouldn’t take kindly to the rash decisions she made. After all, she defied him. She made a decision that could’ve gotten her killed, that could’ve gotten Warren killed, and she knew that even though it solved the case, it was unlikely that Reinhardt would be okay with all that led up to it.
Tara and Warren reached the elevator and stepped inside. The doors closed and Tara felt her palms sweat as she watched the elevator rise above each floor. One. Two. Three. Each time, the elevator made a ding noise as it moved past the floor. They were getting closer and they stood in silence until Warren looked over.
“Relax, Mills,” he said as he patted her on
