Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

“You could have told me to drop it,” Gervase muttered as he was lifted onto the stretcher that would carry him to the waiting helicopter.

“I could have blown your head off too,” Kennedy said. “I didn’t.”

“You should have.”

“I probably should have,” Kennedy agreed. Always there with the warm and fuzzy.

Or maybe he was doing Gervase the courtesy of being honest with him. Since he had not obliged him by helping him commit suicide.

While they had waited for the state trooper and the med chopper, Gervase had talked. He said it was to keep his mind off the pain of his gunshot wound. Jason believed he had been longing to get the story off his chest since the homicide had happened.

Except it wasn’t homicide. Manslaughter at most. And if Gervase had just owned up to it at the start—

“I should have taken early retirement,” Gervase said as Kennedy shoved his own jacket against the wound in Gervase’s shoulder.

“You should have taken something,” Kennedy said.

Gervase winced as Kennedy applied pressure to the wound. “I didn’t have the patience to deal with the bullshit anymore.”

“What happened that night?” Jason asked.

“It was an accident. I went out there to tell the Madigan kid to turn the goddamned music down or else. She told me to fuck off. Right to my face. Like I was her peer, like I was her servant. She told me her parents paid my salary. Paid the salary of all my officers. Spoiled, mouthy little bitch. I slapped her. Which I shouldn’t have. I know that. I knew it as it was happening. Big mistake. And then it got worse. She fell and hit her head on a rock.”

Gervase stared at them in disbelief. “Just like that. Boom. Lights out. I couldn’t believe it. She was dead.”

“Why the hell did you try to conceal it?” Kennedy asked.

Gervase’s eyes were still dark with horror. “My God. What was I supposed to do? You’ve seen her parents in action. I wouldn’t just have lost my job. They’d have taken me for everything I own. And I don’t own that much, not after a lifetime of public service. They would have destroyed my family. And it wouldn’t have stopped there. I’d have gone to jail. They’d have seen to that. A cop in jail. You know what happens to cops in jail? But they wouldn’t have cared. They could afford the best lawyers. I’d have lost everything because of a mouthy little brat.”

“Because you struck and killed her,” Kennedy said.

Awareness seemed to come back to Gervase’s face. He looked away. “Yeah,” he said thickly.

Jason said, “Why the hell did you drag Kennedy into this? Why involve the Bureau? You’d probably have got away with making it look like a sex crime or something if you hadn’t tried to make it look like the Huntsman was back.”

Gervase gave a strange laugh. “I know! I think I lost my mind there for a while. I’d seen you on the news the night before.” He was staring at Kennedy. “And I thought what a lucky sonofabitch you were. Everybody else does your grunt work, and you get to be the big hero who saves the day.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kennedy said.

“A governor called you out right there on TV, and you still walked away with your job. Anybody else would have been fired. Hell, you were getting credit for solving that case too!”

Jason repeated, “Why did you bring him in?”

“Because I couldn’t see how not to. I knew how to stage Rebecca’s body, make it look like maybe the Huntsman had a copycat, but then if we really did have a copycat, we’d bring in Kennedy. So how could I not bring him in? What would be my excuse?”

Maybe it was true. Jason thought there was more to the story. Resentment? Jealousy? Hatred? On the surface Gervase seemed like a decent, well-balanced guy. As sane as they came. But to harbor such bitter feelings for so many years? Was this because of how good Kennedy was at his job? Or because he didn’t bother to pretend he wasn’t that good?

Maybe Kennedy felt the same thing, because he rose and walked away from the little ring of light created by their flashlights.

“How did it happen that nobody saw you with Rebecca?” Jason asked, watching Kennedy’s straight, motionless silhouette.

“She was on her way into the house when I pulled up. She walked out to meet me. It took…no more than a couple of minutes.”

“You goddamned fool.” Kennedy’s voice was a growl from the darkness. “You should have reported it immediately.”

“That’s easy to say. You weren’t there. You’ll never be there because you don’t have anything to lose. This is your life.”

Kennedy didn’t answer.

Jason said, “What about the mermaid charm found with Rebecca? Where did that one come from?”

Gervase groaned. “I found it years ago where Ginny’s body was discovered. I go out there sometimes, into the woods where we found each of the girls. And one day I spotted it lying there in the grass. Right where we’d searched a dozen times. I carried it on my own keychain ever since because I never wanted to forget.”

The low and distant thwack-thwack-thwack of an approaching helicopter reached their ears then. Jason had spotted lights skimming the black tree tops, heading their way.

Chief Gervase’s light, pain-filled eyes followed Kennedy. “You don’t know what those murders did to us. We’re haunted to this day. Those ghosts will follow us until Kingsfield crumbles away like this town. It was just another case for you. Another big career triumph. Not for me. I knew those girls. Every one of them. I had to face their parents. I don’t ever get to forget. To walk away.”

Kennedy turned. His eyes glittered in the glare of the high beams. “You’re not walking away from this, that’s for sure.”

 

 

It was much later before Jason had a chance to speak to Kennedy on his own. Chief Gervase had been whisked away to Boston for surgery, and Rexford was crawling with state troopers while most of the deeply shocked and grieving members of Kingsfield PD looked on.

“You can head back to the motel now. In fact, you should head out for L.A. tomorrow,” Kennedy told Jason. “Assuming you can get the okay from SAC Manning. I’ll finish wrapping things up here.”

“You want me to leave?” Jason could have blushed after the startled words left his mouth. He just meant…well, actually he did kind of mean it the way it sounded.

Is that it?

Of course that was it. There wasn’t enough of a case left to require two special agents, especially when one of them was on loan from another and greatly understaffed unit. And as for the rest of it…

I follow the catch-and-release rule. By exigency and by inclination.

“You’re in a big hurry to get back to L.A. Correct?” Kennedy’s appraisal was as cool and direct as the day they’d met.

“Right. Yes.”

Kennedy nodded and turned away.

“I would have fired,” Jason said to his back.

Kennedy turned to face him, regarding Jason steadily, bleakly.

“Thank you for what you did earlier, but it wasn’t necessary.”

Kennedy said, “West, the only reason you’re not dead is because he didn’t want to kill you.” He sounded as tired as Gervase had at the end.

“That’s not—” Jason stopped. “I would have fired. I was squeezing the trigger.”

“You didn’t fire. You didn’t shoot. He let off five rounds. You didn’t return fire once.”

“I thought I could talk him down. I was talking him down.”

Kennedy closed his eyes as though in pain.

“You can think what you want. I didn’t freeze. I would have fired if I hadn’t had another choice.”

Kennedy started to answer, then stopped. He said finally, “You’re too smart not to understand the potential consequences—for everyone—of being wrong about this. That’s all I’m going to say.”

Their gazes remained locked. Jason nodded.

Kennedy didn’t believe him, but Jason was telling the truth. He had been about to fire. For him, the nadir had been during those minutes when he had been frozen with fear in that cellar doorway. He had hit rock bottom, but he had come back from it. In fact, there was a kind of comfort in knowing no bullet could ever hurt like the pain he had faced in that basement.

“What about Kyser?” he asked.

Kennedy frowned. “What about him? He’s not part of this case. If he wants to behave like a freak, that’s his business.”

Right. It wasn’t against the law to be a very weird guy.

“Okay. Well, I guess that’s it.”

Kennedy nodded and once more turned his back to walk away.

What the hell. You only lived once.

“How often do you get to L.A.?” Jason called.

Kennedy stopped. Turned. He looked at Jason. Impassive and cool. Shook his head. “No.”

For the record. All purpose and all encompassing. In answer to any question you could ever ask…

No.

Not even a polite and face-saving sorry to say, not that often.

Nope. Just a flat and businesslike no.

Police line. Do not cross.

“Right. Well, nice working with you.” It was kind of amazing Jason got the words out so calmly, given the way his throat closed like a vise on that final you.

This time it was Jason who turned away.

 

* * * * *

 

By the time he made it back to the motel, Jason was angry.

Also sick with disappointment and hurt.

Which made no sense whatsoever.

He had understood the terms of engagement.

He himself was not looking for a relationship, let alone a long-distance relationship with someone as difficult and unpredictable as Sam Kennedy.

His emotional reaction to Kennedy’s curt goodbye was…embarrassing, frankly.

Thank God he had managed to hide it. Probably not well enough. And he could have kicked himself for that hopeful, tentative How often do you get to L.A.?

Jason swore and threw the last of his clothes in his suitcase.

What he was feeling was probably something akin to leaving summer camp. You bonded with people through adversity, and sometimes it was hard to say goodbye. That was all.

And that was normal. This had been a tough case for him. He’d had to work through a few things. So it was natural to confuse his feelings about the situation with his feelings for Kennedy.

His brief conversation with SAC Manning did not improve his mood.

Manning was erm bitterly disappointed at the way things had worked out in Kingsfield. He could not come up with a reason for insisting Jason stay on, but it was clear it killed him to give up without a fight.

“Agent West, do you feel that perhaps, erm, something Kennedy did during that previous investigation might have ultimately, erm, triggered—”

“No, sir. I really don’t.”

Jason had stuck to that line, and eventually Manning had to accept defeat.

“Your cooperation and diligence have been, erm, duly noted, Agent West.”

“Thank you, sir.”

 

 

He was in bed, not sleeping, when he heard Kennedy’s footsteps on the landing. Jason glanced at the clock. Two thirty in the morning. It would be light soon. He would be leaving for the airport soon.

Heart thumping, he listened to that firm tread approach…and then pass his door.

No pause. No hesitation.

He scrunched the pillow over his hot face. What had he thought? That Kennedy was going to change his mind when he remembered all those great times they’d spent together?

Jesus. Christ. Get over it.

He closed his eyes. A second later his eyes popped open again—like his eyelids were broken.

He was too tired to sleep. That was the truth. He was wired. He ought to just head out now.

Yes, actually, that was a good idea.

Why was he wasting time lying here when he could be on his way back to Boston? That would save him from the awkward possibility of running into Kennedy in the morning.

He sat up, snapped on the light, and then sat on the edge of his bed, wondering at the wave of depression he felt at the idea of never seeing Senior Special Agent Sam Kennedy again.

Really, Jason? Coz you couldn’t stand the guy five days ago. And now you’re getting choked up because you’ll never again have to put up with that perfumy aftershave and his insistence on always driving everywhere?

There came a soft knock at the door.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Jason rose, hauled on his jeans, and went to the door. He peered out the keyhole.

Kennedy was frowning at the landing.

Jason slid the safety chain, turned the deadbolt, opened the door.

Kennedy transferred the frown to Jason.

“I saw your light was on.”

Jason frowned back. “I’ve got an early flight.”

“Right. Look.” Kennedy drew a breath. “I’m not good at goodbyes. But I enjoyed working with you too, Agent West.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s all.”

Jason nodded curtly.

Kennedy turned away.

Jason very, very gently closed the door. He leaned his forehead against its glossy enameled surface.

He listened for Kennedy’s retreating footsteps.

Nothing.

More nothing.

He raised his head.

Was Kennedy still standing outside his door?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Jason wrenched open the door. “Back so soon?” he asked tersely.

Kennedy’s blue eyes seemed to be the only color in the night. His hair looked platinum, his face white in the thin light radiating from the overhang. “Listen,” he said. “You don’t want to be involved with me.”

“You’re right.”

“If you think I’m an asshole now…”

“You don’t have to convince me.”

“I’m too old for you, for one thing.”

Jason folded his arms. “And getting older by the minute.”

“I’m always on the road. Always traveling. I like it that way.”

“Sure. Sounds ideal.”

Kennedy drew a deep breath. “I made the decision a long time ago that this job did not allow for anything other than…this job.”

Jason was silent. “Wow,” he said finally.

Kennedy’s throat jumped as he swallowed. “And even if I could find the balance of work and relationship—and I don’t think that’s in me—this isn’t the kind of job you want to bring home to someone you care about. I would not want to open this door to someone I cared about. Especially not someone like you.”

“Especially not someone like me,” Jason repeated. “I see.”

“No, you don’t. But I do. And that’s why I think this would be a horrible idea.”

“Kennedy, when you retire from the Bureau, you should go into sales. You’re a natural.”

Kennedy finished quietly, “Because I care about you, Jason. More than I thought I could.”

Jason rubbed his eyes. Pinched the bridge of his nose. He opened his eyes. “Okay. Let me get this straight. You like me too much to ever see me again. Is that pretty much it?”

Kennedy stared at him. There was so much pain in his face. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. Features set and pale, mouth too firm, eyes dark with naked emotion. Where had all that come from? Four hours ago he had been Mr. Freeze.

“Jesus Christ,” Jason said. “I was just asking for a fucking date. But since you’re putting it out there, I didn’t expect this either. And I can’t say it particularly fits in with my plans. I’m not whatever it is you’ve convinced yourself I am. I’m not a civilian, for one thing. I don’t care that you’re an asshole—although you are—and I don’t care how old you are, or that you travel a lot, or that the job comes first. And I don’t even want to know what the rest of it is, though obviously there’s something I should probably know about. I would like to…” He was astonished when his voice cut out.

Kennedy stared at him, watching his struggle.

Jason finished steadily, “I would like to try.” He amended, “I would at least like to try one date.”

Kennedy let out a long breath, like a swimmer who just didn’t have the strength to keep fighting current. The moment seemed to float there, and then he reached out, hand locking in Jason’s hair, pulling him in for a kiss.

Just before their lips met Kennedy said softly, “When and where?”