Cold Snap (38 page)

He shook his head. “I can take your family in small doses. All at once, not anymore.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“You shouldn’t be.” He handed her an envelope.

“What’s this?”

“Preliminary lab results.”

“On Christmas?”

“I have a Jewish friend or two.” He smiled, and Lucy almost laughed.

“You’ve really gone above and beyond.” She opened the envelope. It was from a private—and expensive—lab. They’d run for all known neuromuscular blockers and found fatal levels of tubocurarine chloride in both Sarah Peterson and Wendy Parsons.

Andrew continued. “This is the evidence we need to prosecute Todd. She’s not going to walk. Will and Carina will be going through all of Parsons’, files, but it seems that your and Rogan’s suspicions were correct. She found what seemed to be a series of suspicious deaths and didn’t know what to do with the information. When Parsons found out Peterson was asking questions about his sister’s death, she gave him a list of names, the names he passed on to you. I don’t know why she did it, whether she thought he could investigate, but it seems he decided to prove it himself.”

“And you have evidence that Todd killed Peterson.”

“We have her confession, and the hospital is working closely with my office. I think we’ll get enough.”

“Good.” Even though they had stopped a serial killer, no one had won. Charlie was dead, Wendy was dead, Marilyn Todd would spend the rest of her life in prison. Lucy was filled with a dark sense of melancholy.

“Thank you. For everything.” She took his hand. “Andrew, I’m sorry my family ostracized you after Justin was killed. I know now how much you suffered.”

“We all did. So did you. I don’t care that you were only seven; I don’t think anyone realized that you were in pain.” He tilted his head. “Has Nelia spoken to you yet?”

“Is it that noticeable?”

He nodded.

“At the hospital, when we were both at Dad’s room at the same time. She really couldn’t avoid it, but it’s a start. Here—there’s so many people around, she can avoid me. I’m okay with it. It is what it is, and I’m not going to plead with her to forgive me for something I didn’t do. I know grief makes her hate me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, Lucy.”

“Guilt? Because she thought I should have been the one to die?”

“Don’t say that. Lucy—I don’t have to explain loss to you. We sometimes react in ways even we don’t understand. It took me years to recover from Justin’s death, but I also had my career. I’m a workaholic. If I didn’t have this, I wouldn’t have survived. I tried to help Nelia, but we didn’t have a marriage at that point. But she’s okay now, we’ve talked, she has Tom, and I’m putting bad guys in jail, and you know what? That gives me purpose.”

Andrew hugged her, then kissed the top of her head. “Don’t be a stranger, Agent Kincaid.”

He left. Sean stepped out onto the porch. “Everything good?”

“Now it is.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gabrielle Santana pass Andrew on the walkway. She hadn’t seen her drive over, so she must have walked from her mom’s house. “Gabrielle?” she asked, surprised.

“Wow. Lucy. I haven’t see you since … well, since you got taller than me.” She eyed Sean, and Lucy made introductions.

“I go by Elle now. Is Patrick here?”

“Follow me.”

*   *   *

Patrick sat on the back porch and stared out at the Christmas sunset. It didn’t matter where he lived, where he ended up raising a family—if he had one—this would always be home.

Lucy stepped out and sat on the edge of Patrick’s chair and put her arm around his shoulders. “It’s beautiful.”

“Mom said you’re staying for a week.”

“I’m not going to make it home for a while. I thought it would be a good time to reconnect with Carina, especially after yesterday.”

“And Nelia?”

“I’ll try.”

Patrick took Lucy’s hand. “Some things are broken and you can’t fix them.”

“She talked to me for the first time yesterday at the hospital.”

Patrick frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Nelia hasn’t talked directly to me since Justin was killed.”

“That can’t be true.”

“For eighteen years, it was true.”

Patrick hadn’t realized that. But he’d been a high school senior when his nephew was murdered, and he’d then gone off to college. Nelia had divorced her husband and moved away after a few years of no justice, but Patrick couldn’t imagine that she’d never talked to Lucy. Except … Patrick couldn’t picture a time they had.

“I understand,” Lucy continued. “She sees me, she thinks about Justin. We were inseparable until … well, it’s painful for her.”

They sat there for a few minutes, then Patrick said, “I’m really going to miss you, Luce.”

“I’m going to miss you. I was spoiled living so close to you for the past year. Sean’s going to miss you, too. You two made a great team.”

“We’re bringing on two people to replace him.”

“I know. He loves it.” She laughed.

“I’ll bet he does. So, he’s really not coming back?”

“No, he’s not. His brother needs to accept it.”

Patrick sighed. “He has. He’s just not happy about it.”

“Sean’s coming out with Gabrielle. They got waylaid by Mom in the kitchen. I snuck out.” She put a hand on her stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

Patrick almost missed the first part of Lucy’s sentence. He must have misheard. “Elle is
here
?”

“Yes.” She raised an eyebrow. “Want to tell me something?”

He was still wrapping his mind around the fact that Elle was here in San Diego, at his house. To see him? Or her family? He wanted to see her. He’d hated how they left things in San Francisco. He didn’t know what was going to happen between them, but when he thought he wouldn’t ever see her again, at least not unless he jumped through hoops to make sure they were in San Diego at the same time, he felt tense and sad. Elle was … amazing in so many ways. It was like she’d woken him up after a long sleep.

“There’s nothing to tell,” he said after a far too long hesitation.

She rolled her eyes.

“Being a psychologist doesn’t make you psychic,” Patrick said.

“I don’t have to be psychic to read your expression. Jack caught me up on what happened in San Francisco.”

“Jack has a big mouth.”

Lucy laughed. “I don’t think anyone has ever accused Jack of talking too much.”

Sean came out onto the deck and took her hand. “Let’s take a walk before your mom stuffs more food in me. She says I’m too skinny.” He glanced at Patrick. “Why isn’t she stuffing you with food?”

“Every time she walks into the kitchen I pretend I’m eating something.”

“Sneaky. Your friend”—he smirked like a teenager—“is on her way out.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

Patrick watched Lucy and Sean walk around the house to the front. If anyone had asked him last year about Sean dating his sister, he’d have laughed or decked him. He hadn’t thought Sean would be good for Lucy. But they’d both proved him wrong, and Patrick hoped that someday Sean would be his brother-in-law as well as his best friend.

Elle stepped out on the deck. She had a plate of food. She put it down on the picnic table.

“I didn’t think you were coming.”

“I told Lucy I would be right out, as soon as I could break away—”

“I meant, to San Diego.”

“I wasn’t,” she said. She looked exhausted as well as nervous. “Patrick—I’m a bitch. I know it. I have nothing to offer you. I’m opinionated, independent, and I have a temper. I get overinvolved in everything I do, I work long hours for little pay, and I take risks I shouldn’t take. I know that. I can’t promise you I’ll change—I tried to change for Dwight because I loved him, but it made us both miserable. But I can’t stop thinking about you. You surprised me. You’re not like anyone else I know. I lost hope that there were any heroes left in the world, and then you walked into my life and showed me I was wrong. I don’t want to let you go—but I don’t know what to do. I’m in San Francisco and you’re in Washington, D.C., but just the thought of never seeing you again makes me want to cry—and I don’t cry.”

Patrick would have laughed if his own heart wasn’t melting. Elle Santana was not an easy woman, but by God, she was a passionate one, and everything she did she did for others. Her passion and love for life and people was intoxicating.

“First, I don’t want you to change. Trying to fit a mold that another person casts for you never turns out.”

Her face fell. What had she been through that she thought she was imperfect?

“We’re all flawed,” Patrick said. “We all have demons we chase, and demons we run from. But you know what I love about you? You stand up for what is right. You say what you think. You care passionately about everything you do. Four days ago, I had a job and a family. I love both. But I had no life. I’ve dated a few women; no one ever inspired me. But you? God, Elle, you’re an inspiration the minute you walk into the room.” He got up and took her hands. “It’s not going to be easy, living on two coasts, but I travel a lot—”

She tossed her arms around his neck and kissed him. He held her tight, but she was a bundle of energy. If they’d been alone, there was no doubt in Patrick’s mind that they’d have been naked inside of a minute.

He really wished they were alone.

“I have ten days off,” she said between kisses.

“Where do you want to go?”

She stepped back. “What?”

“Let’s go someplace. Otherwise, we’ll be here with family. And questions. And no privacy—”

“Anywhere. I don’t care.”

Patrick smiled. “Ten days? Really?”

“Really.”

He took her hand and led her into the house. The Kincaids and Santanas filled the place. His dad was still in the hospital, but he would be home tomorrow. He loved his family more than anything, but for the first time he decided he was going to do something for himself.

“Mom,” he said, “I have to go.” He kissed her cheek.

The noise level was abruptly reduced by half.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Elle and I have a plane to catch.”

Mrs. Santana rushed to his mother’s side. “What? Elle, are you still in trouble?”

“No, Ma.” But she gave Patrick a quizzical look.

“No trouble at all, Mrs. Santana. We’re just going to Hawaii for a little R & R. Elle earned it.” He kissed her. Might as well show everyone in the room at once that Elle, the black sheep of the Santana family, was now taken.

Rosa Kincaid managed to control the huge smile that threatened. She didn’t want Patrick to know she was pleased. She’d be more pleased if they were married, but that would come.

Millie took Rosa’s hand and pulled her to the kitchen as Patrick said good-bye to his brothers and sisters. It was so, so good to finally have all her children at home, even if it was only for a day. She needed this, now more than ever. Her husband would be coming home soon; she would make sure he ate properly—no more of those steaks he insisted on cooking every Sunday night. And her children—they were doing well. She was so proud of them. Not least of all Carina, who was giving her a grandchild. A grandchild would bring the life and love back into the house.

“You were right,” Millie said, sounding surprised.

“I know my children,” Rosa said. “And Patrick, he needed someone to pull him out of his shell. He will never be bored with your daughter.”

“I hope he can handle her. She’s so … wild.”

“Oh, Millicent, you think about this all wrong. She’s not wild, she’s strong. She doesn’t need to be handled, she needs to be loved. And Patrick has more love in him than he realizes.”

“Do you want a wager? I suspect they’ll be married in one year.”

Rosa’s eyes sparkled. “I suspect they’ll be married before they return from Hawaii.”

Read on for a Lucy Kincaid story

For the first time in print

RECKLESS

By Allison Brennan

CHAPTER 1

Lucy Kincaid stood on the edge of a low cliff and looked out at the breathtakingly clear lake a hundred feet below. Waking up at dawn and the two-mile hike had paid off.

“Wow.” It was all she could say.

Her boyfriend, Sean Rogan, grinned. “I told you this would be worth the journey.”

“I really needed this time off.”

He kissed her lightly. “I’m glad you could take a break.”

Lucy hadn’t realized how much she’d been looking forward to this weekend, the last in September. The late-night studying and early-morning physical training had taken their toll. They’d had two major tests, one of which Lucy had barely passed, earning the minimum 85 percent required. That had been in Warrants. She didn’t want to cut her upcoming tests that close.

But for the next thirty-six hours, she would put aside her studies and focus on herself, something she rarely did. If it hadn’t been for Sean, she’d never have learned to have fun again.

Yellow poplars and a variety of shrubs grew along the edge of a seasonal creek, now dry, which meandered through the tree-studded valley. To the south, the land was rich with maple and birch. The emerging autumn had just begun to turn the leaves from green to gold and red. Though the day was warm, a slight bite in the crisp air promised a chilly night.