Kiss Me, Kill Me (5 page)

Sean slowly rose from the table, his hands splayed firmly on the oak top to keep them from fisting up.

“Those are different situations,” he said through clenched teeth. “And Lucy is not to blame for either of them.”

Patrick blinked, as if he hadn’t known what he’d said. “I meant the fire.”

“You said the island.”

“You know what I meant!”

Unfortunately, Sean knew exactly what Patrick was thinking, and it took all his willpower to control his temper. It was bad enough that Patrick’s tone suggested that what had happened five weeks ago when Lucy’s stalker pounced was somehow her fault. But the reference to the island where Adam Scott had held her captive nearly seven years ago was unforgivable.

“Let it out, Patrick. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

“Don’t go all Dillon on me,” Patrick said, referring to his brother the shrink. “I’m just saying that Lucy gets too involved. She gets in way over her head, and she’s not ready for this kind of pressure. Can’t you just give her some time to heal? Or is this a way to make her dependent on you?”

“You are way off.”

“Just—why her?”

Sean realized Patrick was now talking about his relationship with Lucy, and that the conversation was taking another direction, diverting Sean’s attention from Lucy’s past. Patrick had clearly been harboring these hostile feelings a long time.

“I care about Lucy,” Sean said.

“Like you cared about Ashley? Jessica? Rachel? Emily—both of them? And then there was Shelley—”

Sean listened to Patrick list his ex-girlfriends before cutting him off. “It’s not the same thing, and you damn well know it.”

Patrick shook his head. “In the three years I’ve known you, you’ve had more than two dozen girlfriends, the longest lasting a record-breaking ten weeks.”

“You’ve been keeping track of my relationships?”

“Not until you started sleeping with my sister!”

“You’re crazy.”

“You’re a playboy.”

“I may have been, but—”

“So you and Lucy have been together for five weeks? You’re halfway to breaking her heart.”

“I’m not going to break her heart—”

“Like hell you aren’t.”

Sean wrestled with his temper, and Patrick pushed.

“Do you think it’s healthy for Lucy to help in a case like this? Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?”

Sean came extremely close to decking him. Patrick knew it and stepped forward, almost daring him.

Sean had a sudden thought. He wondered if Lucy’s distance from him since Patrick had been back in D.C. was Patrick’s doing. “What have you been saying to Lucy?” he asked.

“Nothing yet. But I’m watching you, Rogan.”

“Don’t.”

Had they ever been friends? How could he think he’d gotten to know Patrick so well only to realize that he didn’t know him at all? If Lucy heard his diatribe about Sean’s ex-girlfriends, she might be upset. Patrick’s approval meant more to her than that of any other member of her family. But if Lucy heard Patrick’s comment about the island, she’d be completely devastated.

“I’m going to talk to Kirsten’s other friends,” Patrick said, signaling that this conversation about Lucy was over. “You finish with her computer. We’ll leave at four.”

“Agreed.” Sean wanted to settle it, but they were at an impasse. If Patrick forced Lucy to choose between her family and Sean, Sean feared that Lucy would pick her family. And even if she did choose Sean, she would be miserable. He couldn’t do that to her.

He had to convince Patrick that Lucy was truly the only woman for him. Otherwise … no, he had to convince him. There was no alternative.

FIVE

While Sean drove in silence back to D.C., in the passenger seat Patrick received a call on his cell from Kate that Lucy wasn’t feeling well. Her birthday dinner was postponed until the weekend.

Sean dropped Patrick off at the town house that housed both the RCK East offices and their separate residences, then drove to the Kincaids. Kate answered the door. “I told Patrick that Lucy isn’t feeling well.”

“I know. I just wanted to see her.”

Kate let him in. “Make it quick. Lucy doesn’t get sick often, but when she does she usually overdoes it and makes it worse.”

Sean crossed his heart and held up his hand. “Promise.”

That elicited a smile from Lucy’s sister-in-law. Sean went upstairs and down the long hall to Lucy’s room, set back from the rest of the house. He knocked on the door. “It’s Sean. Can I come in?”

There was no answer. Sean wondered if she was sleeping. He didn’t want to disturb her, but he needed to see her. Partly because he missed her, and partly because he wanted to make sure she was okay with what had happened today with Kirsten Benton and the sex tape. If he had known she’d uncover something like that, he would never have let her help—or would he? Patrick’s gut reaction was to shelter Lucy, but Sean knew she’d faced far worse not only with what had happened nearly seven years ago, but during her tenure at WCF.

Still, the
Party Girl
site was offensive, and Lucy was particularly sensitive to the sexual exploitation of young women. He hoped she hadn’t canceled her party because she was upset about what she’d seen.

He knocked again. “Luce?”

“I’m not feeling well,” came her muffled reply.

He tried the door. It was locked. He couldn’t remember her ever locking her door. “Lucy, let me in—I won’t stay long.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Sean frowned. She didn’t sound like herself. He hesitated a brief moment before pulling out his lockpick kit. Ten seconds later, he was inside.

Lucy sat on the far side of the dark room in her oversized chair, the only illumination coming from the streetlight outside.

“I can’t believe you picked my lock.”

He closed the door behind him. “I was worried about you.”

“I’m fine. You can go.”

Lucy’s face was pale and splotchy, her black hair hung in tangled waves down her back, and she was sitting with her chin on her knees. She was anything but fine.

He crossed the room, then stopped. Her body language was unlike any he’d seen from her. She was truly angry with him.

“You don’t know any boundaries, do you?” she snapped.

“Are you upset about the video you found? I’m sorry, Lucy, I didn’t know that was there. I should have; I should have thought twice about asking for your help—”

She stared at him and shook her head. “No, I’m not upset about the video.”

“Please tell me what’s wrong. I didn’t do anything, did I?” Maybe he’d hurt her and didn’t know it. “Talk to me, please.”

She let out a long sigh and closed her eyes. At first he didn’t understand what she was doing with her hand, but then he realized she was pointing at her desk.

He went over and saw a notebook full of detailed information in her small, clear block printing. He looked at the pictures of her family, some framed and some loose on the desk. There was a series of four black-and-white pictures of her and Sean from a booth at the mall when he’d taken her window-shopping so he could figure out what she wanted for her birthday without directly asking her. That had been a fun afternoon, and the smile on her face was proof.

And then there was a letter, facedown.

He picked it up. It was from the FBI. He didn’t need to read it to know that it contained bad news.

“Lucy—”

“Now you know,” she said, cutting him off, “and you can leave.”

“No—”

“Sean, can’t you just leave me alone? For tonight? You don’t understand. I have nothing left. I need to figure out a bunch of stuff, and I need to do it by myself.”

“You’re in no condition to make decisions tonight.” He walked over to her and knelt in front of her, putting his hands on her shoulders. She was so tense and rigid, her eyes red from her anguish. “I don’t know what was going on with that panel, but they’re a bunch of incompetent jerks who don’t know what the hell they’re doing.”

She didn’t say anything, but her body began shaking.

He kissed her on the top of her head, holding her face against his chest, wishing he could draw all her pain into him. He didn’t know what to say or do to fix it. And that hurt nearly as much—that he couldn’t solve this.

“We’ll work this out,” he said.

“This isn’t your problem,” she whispered.

“Your problems are mine.” What did he need to do to prove to her that he was committed to her, through thick and thin, the good and the bad?

“No, Sean.”

He ignored her comment. He wasn’t going to get into an argument, not when Lucy felt so miserable. “We have a lot of work to do over the next couple days; maybe by the weekend you’ll have a different perspective.”

She pushed him away. He tried not to take it personally, but it was hard. “I can’t help you anymore,” she said.

“Of course you can—”

“Don’t you get it? I’m done. I’m not going to be an FBI agent. I’m not going to be a cop. I’m not going to be working in cybercrime. It’s over.”

“I never thought you were a quitter.”

“Leave me alone.” She turned away.

He stood. “Does your family know?”

She shook her head. “I’ll tell them, but not now.”

“I won’t say anything.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled without emotion.

He walked toward the door, then stopped in front of her desk. “I need your help on this case. You’re smart, you understand these teenagers, and you understand these websites. I could have found all this, but it would have taken me a lot more time because I don’t know exactly what to look for. You saved us hours of work, bringing us many steps closer to finding Kirsten.”

“And what if I get something wrong?” Lucy countered. “What if I miss something completely?” She shook her head. “I don’t want that kind of pressure. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s a lie, and you damn well know it. Go ahead and feel sorry for yourself tonight.” Sean wanted to say something reassuring, but he realized that the last thing Lucy needed right now was someone telling her everything was going to be all right. Self-pity and Lucy didn’t go together, and she’d see it herself soon enough. “I’ll be here at eight o’clock in the morning and I expect you to come to Woodbridge with me. I need your help or I wouldn’t have asked in the first place.”

He reached into his pocket and took out the present he’d picked out that night, after they’d taken the pictures in the booth. He had wanted to see Lucy’s face when she opened it, but maybe now it was better that she opened it alone.

He put it on top of her notes and left.

Lucy stared at the door. She wanted to be angry at Sean, she
tried
to make herself angry at him, but she wasn’t. She was too emotionally drained. The only thing she felt was suffocating waves of despair and failure.

She slowly rose, her limbs stiff from sitting in the chair for hours, and walked to her desk. She picked up the watch-sized box that Sean had left. It was tied with a blue ribbon.

It figured that he would do something like this. She hadn’t wanted to open presents today. She hadn’t wanted to face anyone and pretend everything was just fine. But she couldn’t resist opening it, not knowing what to expect. With Sean, it could be anything.

She untied the ribbon and took off the lid. Inside was a necklace. The pendant was a single daisy made of six amethyst gems, a small diamond in the center. The jewels were set in gold.

She’d never seen anything like it. It was seven stones in a simple design, but the delicacy and complexity of how they were held together was exquisite.

Inside the box was a small card declaring that the necklace was from a local antiques shop she’d been in many times, though she rarely bought anything for herself. A couple of weeks ago they’d gone shopping at the mall, and while walking to a nearby restaurant they’d passed the store. She hadn’t seen the daisy, but she had commented to him how she enjoyed browsing and bought most of her Christmas presents there.

Sean had not only remembered, but he’d picked out a piece that she loved, that symbolized his declaration when they first met that he would give her only colorful daisies because they made her smile.

Putting on the necklace, Lucy wept.

   Lucy was understandably upset over the idiotic panel’s decision, but Sean was downright furious about it and remained so for hours. He continued to work, following up on requests for phone records and ISP information in the Kirsten Benton case. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Lucy’s denied application.

The FBI had proven to him, yet again, that they had their collective heads up their collective asses. Not so much the investigating agents—he had a grudging respect for them after working a few cases with them in the field—but the mindless bureaucrats who ran the agency. Sean knew there was no other applicant out there better qualified or more dedicated than Lucy.

Sean almost called FBI agent Noah Armstrong, who’d recently befriended the Kincaids when he and Kate worked on a case together, but he stopped himself. He and Noah didn’t see eye to eye on most things, and Sean didn’t want to ask him for any favors. Instead, he went higher up and called Assistant Director Hans Vigo, whom Sean greatly admired.

“Hans Vigo,” the agent answered his cell phone.

“It’s Sean Rogan.” He glanced at the clock and winced. It was after eleven. “I hope it’s not too late to call.”

“I was awake.”

Sean sat down at his desk. “The FBI denied Lucy’s application.”

When Hans didn’t respond, Sean asked, “Did you know?”

“No, but I thought she might have an uphill battle.”

“Uphill? It’s
done
. She’s out.”

“She can appeal.”

“Appeal? How?”

“She gets one shot to request a different panel. But Lucy knows that.”

Why hadn’t she said anything to Sean about appealing? “She’s really torn up about this. I don’t think she’s considered her options.”

“Did she tell you anything about the interview? If she felt that someone was unduly biased, or if there were questions that seemed odd to her?”

“No—she thought it went well. She was jazzed afterward. Can you find out who was on the panel? Find out what their problem with her is?”

“I don’t know that you, or Lucy, would like the answers.”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing you don’t already know. Lucy isn’t a typical recruit. The Bureau looks closely at anyone they think may have a hidden agenda.”

“They can’t blame her for what happened with WCF! Dammit—”

“They can look at anything and everything. WCF is only one factor. There is also the fact that she killed two people.”

Sean’s blood ran cold. “Was she supposed to die instead?”

“Look at the bigger picture, Sean. They probably assessed that she was too high profile. That’s my guess, not because I know anything specific. I don’t even know who’s on the hiring panel right now, but it’s not secret and I’ll find out.”

Sean latched on to Hans’s first statement. “What do you mean Lucy’s too ‘high profile.’ Is it because she was raped? That is just fucked.”

“Sean, that’s not what I meant,” Hans said, his voice calm but firm. “However, it might play a part of the big picture. Not that she was attacked, but everything that happened after that. Any one thing probably wouldn’t have alarmed the panel, but she’s been involved in several police and FBI investigations from the outside, and she has high-ranking connections.”

“That should help her!”

“Sometimes it does. And sometimes connections can hurt a candidate’s chances.”

That Sean understood. His brother Liam was always a wild card, and had caused their brother Duke and RCK plenty of headaches. And Sean wasn’t a Boy Scout, either. He knew he’d cost RCK business in the past, nearly as much as he had gained them.

But Lucy was different, and becoming an FBI agent meant more to her than anything else. Sean didn’t want to accept defeat, but listening to Hans it sounded like there were no options.

“Then she’s screwed? Why didn’t you tell her before she spent the last seven years of her life planning for a career in the FBI?”

“Sean, I understand that you’re upset, and I can just imagine how Lucy is feeling about now. But neither of you are naïve. Lucy would be a controversial hire; that’s the simple truth.”

“Are you going to help or not?”

“Sean, there is no one I know more deserving of a commission from the Bureau than Lucy.” Hans sounded irritated. “I personally like and admire her greatly, and know she’d make a top agent. Moreover, we need more people like her. But the FBI is a large government agency, and individuals who stand out
before
they are recruited are red flags. Give me the weekend to find out what I can about the panel. I need to be discreet, because if someone suspects that I’m trying to manipulate the process then Lucy will have even more problems when she appeals. I’ll call you next week.”

Sean took a deep breath. “I really appreciate this, Hans.”

“If it doesn’t work out, a talented woman like Lucy still has many options available to her. Naturally, I’ll help her in any way I can.”

“Thanks, Hans. We both know that, but Lucy wouldn’t ask.”

“She doesn’t have to.”