Once again outside on the front patio, Jane felt the cool breezewash away the humidity, September trying to hang onto summer despite the slow creep of autumn.
Jenn appeared and flashed her badge. The officers let her approach.
“You okay?” Jenn asked as she drew closer.
Jane nodded.
Jenn stood by her, not saying anything. She listened while the detective asked a few more questions he’d previously asked, to which Jane didn’t have any answers. She had no idea about Matthew’s neighbors or prior dating life, though she did believe he was currently single.
Jenn said nothing to that, though she could have chimed in, Jane supposed.
But the investigation needed to center on who had killed him, not on Jane for having a tentative relationship with the victim.
An officer stopped by the detective, holding a baggie with something inside it.
The detective asked, “Agent Cannon, was ASAC Scott into chess?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Well, we didn’t find a chess set inside, but we did find this curled in his fist.” He held out the baggie.
Inside it was a black chess piece covered in blood.
The rook.
Chapter 41
She didn’t rememberthe ride home, though Jane had been sound of mind enough to convince Jenn she’d be fine driving herself back.
Nothing felt real.
She’d been around death before, had even killed a man in the course of duty. But this …
Matthew was a real person to her. Someone she’d talked to, smiled and laughed with. Kissed. They’d been both colleagues and friends. And Jane didn’t have a lot of those.
The numbness that had surrounded her at the crime scene remained in place. Though Jane knew she should feel something, anything, part of her refused to give in to emotion.
She found strength in resilience. Now more than ever, she had to keep it together, to fight for the justice Matthew deserved.
The rook in his hand had been intentional. Obviously. But it felt too over the top.
Or was she supposed to think that?
Rook and Kaminski had been ahead of the game the entire time she’d been playing.
But to kill a senator’s son? The assistant special agent in charge ofthe Seattle FBI? Who did that and didn’t expect backlash? Or was that the endgame? An all-out assault on the government?
Her head ached, and she felt unclean, her pants coated in Matthew’s blood. A crust of deep red under her fingernails. Remnants of a life now gone.
She couldn’t stop staring at her hands. Time passed.
Someone knocked at the door.
They knocked harder.
She crossed to it and felt as if she moved through water.
A glance through the peephole showed her uncle.
