Chapter 2
FBI Headquarters, Washington, D.C.
ROUTINE WAS IMPORTANT to Special Agent Kara Martin. Every morning she’d wake up, put on her running clothes, and jump on the treadmill for one hour. Her routine almost never changed, even on weekends. She’d then turn on her coffee maker, and while it percolated she’d shower, then quickly blow dry her long brown hair, then put it up into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. Her makeup consisted of mascara and light brown eyeliner, which matched her eyes. She never bothered with lipstick or face powder.
Her morning ritual started at five and ended at eight when she strolled into the FBI headquarters in Washington, D.C., except for on Fridays when she stopped at the bakery for her father’s favorite doughnut. She’d buy two, putting one in a bag for the security guard at the Federal Building. Then she’d take one bite of the other greasy, glazed fried cake, in her father’s memory. She’d hold on to the doughnut all day, taking small bites, usually finishing it by dinnertime.
Her father used to call it the ‘Treat O’Friday’ and it was just between her and dear old dad. It had been his day to go into work late, and he always spent the morning with Kara. It was their alone time. If heaven were an easy trip, she’d go there every Friday with a dozen doughnuts.
This Friday happened to be the second day of the New Year. Her boss had called her in to discuss being the FBI liaison in a case involving the death of a New York State Congressman’s daughter in her hometown of Rochester, New York. A place to which she swore she’d never return.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” Stanley, the guard at the metal detector said as she handed him the doughnut. “Oh, how I live for Fridays,” he said.
“Me, too.”
He never asked why she’d started bringing the doughnut, but she sensed he understood how important it was to her.
“How was your evening?”
“Exceptional.” Kara placed her weapon and badge in the tray. Entering the office wasn’t any different than going through security at the airport, except the security here was probably better. Definitely nicer. “Have you finished watching Breaking Bad yet?”
The guard shook his head. “I did manage two episodes last night. That show is addicting.”
Kara stepped through the machine and collected her belongings, including an overnight bag. “Best show ever written. After that, you’ve got to watch Bloodline.”
“You really need to get a life,” Stanley said.
“Work, great movies, and televisions shows. That’s my life.”
He shook his head. “Have a great day, Sunshine.”
“You, too,” she said.
She made her way through the Federal Building and into the Violent Crimes Unit. Her father’s murder had sealed her fate in becoming an FBI agent and working specifically with this unit. It had taken her awhile to achieve this goal, but only because she’d nearly screwed up her life when she couldn’t get past the pain of her existence.
She tossed her purse into her desk drawer and rolled her overnight bag to the corner of her office before refilling her travel mug with fresh coffee and heading for the conference room. Little information had been forwarded to her regarding this case. The fact that she had no idea how long she’d be in her hometown only added to the nerves of seeing Shane again. No matter how hard she had tried to put him out of her mind, he always managed to invade her thoughts and dreams.
As she entered the conference room she expected to see the entire team, but instead was greeted by her team leader, Special Agent in Charge Austin Cummings, and Special Agent Ben Foster.
After she took her seat, she checked her phone. No messages from Shane. She shouldn’t have reached out to him like that.
Foster slid her a file. “So, you know the lead detective,” he said as he tapped the folder in front of her. Foster was a year older than Kara and looked more like a hockey player than an FBI agent. He had two distinctive scars on his face: one across the top of his right eye, the other down the left side of his cheek to his mouth. He was also missing one tooth, which he’d said was removed when he got hit in a fight playing junior hockey up in Toronto. Kara was pleased she’d guessed he’d been a hockey player from the start. But the best part about Foster was his dry sense of humor and off-color remarks.
Technically, Foster was Kara’s partner. But the team generally traveled together. This time it appeared she and Ben would be flying solo.
“We went to high school together.”
“His captain has been informed that you’re coming,” Cummings said. He sat at the head of the table. He was approaching sixty. His hair was jet-black, obviously dyed, but it was thick, so it didn’t look too bad. He was a handsome man, with well-defined features and soft green eyes. He’d been the one to interview her years ago, right out of training. She was lucky to have been assigned to the unit of her choice.
She watched as her boss flipped through the contents of the folder. He shook his head, let out a long sigh, and ran his fingers across his cleanly-shaven chin. “This is a sensitive case. Congressman Cleary made a statement early this morning that puts the Rochester P.D. in a bad light. He doesn’t think the missing person’s case was handled properly, but we don’t want to upset the locals. This is their case. They have lead.”
“Not a problem.” Kara stared at Foster. He was notorious for ruffling the locals’ feathers in ways that fueled the rivalry between local police departments and federal agencies. “Right, Foster? No pushing the buttons of those we’re supposed to be supporting.”
“That’s asking a lot of this old dog,” Foster said. “And oftentimes they start it.”
“Well, don’t finish it,” Cummings said. “You two work with the locals, not against them, but play mediator with Clearly.”
“We can do that,” Foster said.
“I can do that.” Kara pointed to Foster. “Not so sure he can. Last time we worked a murder case he got into it with the local Chief of Police. It wasn’t pretty.”
“Really, I can behave.” Foster winked. “Pinky swear.”
Kara shook her head.
“Plane is gassed up and ready. Call in if you need anything.” Cummings exited the office.
It was at that moment that Kara’s cell phone buzzed, Shane’s number popping up on her screen. She answered immediately, mouthing to Foster who was on the phone. “Hello?” She slipped from the conference room and headed back to her office to gather her things. “Shane?”
“Hey, Kara.” Shane’s voice still had that husky timbre she remembered.
Memories of her childhood flooded her mind’s eye. Long walks on the beach at Durand Eastman Park. Laughter riding up the chairlift at Bristol Mountain in the dead of winter. Spending the night in his dorm room. His voice alone had been the source of everything she once held dear.
“How are you?” he asked.
“Good,” she said. She and Shane had been the ‘it’ couple in high school. Everyone thought they’d stay together forever. “I’m getting ready to head your way. Should touch down in a couple of hours.” She steadied her hand. She had a job to do. What she had with Shane ended fifteen years ago, and should have no bearing on the present.
“You have anything for us?” he asked.
“Not yet,” she said. “We’ve got algorithms trying to match possible connections to open and cold cases, as well as known perps, but the computer hasn’t generated anything concrete yet. Could take a few more hours. A lot of databases to cover.”
“Did you see the Congressman’s press conference?” Shane asked. “He called the press to his house at five. Made the 6AM news.”
“No, but I heard about it.”
“It’s been less than 24 hours and we’ve got jack shit as far as a lead.”
“Any chance there’s been a prelim autopsy report?”
“I’m told in the next 24 hours, but the M.E. is going to take his sweet time with this one, crossing every ‘t’, dotting every ‘i’. He put a rush on a lot of the lab work, but no one is going to want any mistakes, so even a rush is going to be double-checked.”
Kara saw Foster waving at her, so she snagged her overnight bag and her purse and headed out the door. “I’ve got to go. We’ll talk more when I get there.”
“It’s good to hear your voice again,” Shane said. “Been a long time.”
“It has.” Kara ended the call and took a deep breath. Long time or not, he still affected her on every level.