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I’ve made this trip hundreds of times over dozens of months. But this time is different. This time, Gaia and I are finally returning home for good.
My epic journey is almost complete. Like Odysseus before me, I will live on through the stories told about my glorious battles with the forces of evil. By the time the viperous FBI and their lesser messengers, the NYPD, find the shrine I created and left behind, Gaia, Artemis, the lesser goddesses, and I will be transported to Mount Olympus.
I’d let nothing and no one interfere with that.
Which is why I feel so fortunate that I discovered the new serpent that Python sent down to thwart me. I put an end to his poisonous scheme. Despite his cleverness, Python has failed. His messenger has died, knowing he’d lost, and knowing that virtue had prevailed. Like Python himself, the serpent he’d sent had been evil. And evil had to be eliminated.
And so it was.
I must keep a constant watch over Gaia. I won’t tell her about Artemis—not yet. I’ll let that be a surprise. Today, I’ll awaken her only to acquaint her with her room, and to show her the panoramic view of the heavens that’s hers to savor—first by day, then by night.
It’s imperative that I infuse her with peace and joy so that her soul will soar with a sense of rightness when the moment comes for her to slip tranquilly from this world into eternity.
Once she’s settled in, everything will be in place.
And we’ll have only to wait for Artemis to join us.
FBI New York Field Office
26 Federal Plaza, New York City
7:45 A.M.
Derek got the call from Bob Erwin just as he was sitting down to go over his notes and drink his third cup of morning coffee.
He heard only the basics. They were enough. He felt as if he’d been flattened by a steamroller. Slowly, he lowered his cup to the desk, where his coffee sat, forgotten, turning from hot to lukewarm to cold, as Bob provided the details, filling him in on the when, where, and how—which clearly added up to the who.
Derek already knew the why.
“The Crime Scene Unit is already there collecting evidence,” Bob concluded. “They didn’t know the homicide was part of a federal investigation until they found my card on his desk, and called me. Sorry about that.”
“Not important. I don’t stand on ceremony. Just contact them and tell them I don’t want the M.E.’s office to move the body until I get there.”
“Already done. No one’s been inside the apartment except the responding officers, the EMTs, the detectives from the Ninth Precinct, and Crime Scene, who’ve now sealed the place off. They all know you’re the case agent in charge. No one else is going into the apartment until you get there.”
“Good.” Derek was whipping out a pen and pad. “What’s the address and the apartment number?” He scribbled it down. “I’m on my way.”
“Derek?” Bob inserted quickly. “How do you want to handle this with Sloane? Obviously, she hasn’t been notified. I thought you might want to be the one to—”
“I’ll tell her.” Derek rubbed a palm across his face, thinking about Sloane. Yes, she was tough. Tough and strong. Nonetheless, this was going to be one of those life-altering moments she’d never forget, the kind that would change her forever. Derek had been in that place, and he knew. He also knew it sucked.
“She’s home,” he told Bob. “Probably preparing for the meeting that’s now not going to happen. I don’t want to deliver news like this over the phone. I’ll drive straight there from the crime scene.”
“The meeting—right. I almost forgot. I’ll contact Bill and Larry to cancel. Besides, they need to know about this development anyway.”
“Yeah.” Derek was on his feet, ready to go. The Unsub was unraveling. Every minute that passed gave him more time to kill again. It also increased the risk that Sloane would find out what had happened from someone else.
That spawned another thought.
“What about the John Jay faculty?” Derek asked Bob. “Do they know?”
“Not yet. Only the grad student who called it in.”
“Keep it that way until I’ve talked to Sloane.”
“I’ll give you as much time as I can. Call me as soon as you’ve broken the news. And, Derek, tell Sloane I—”
“I will.” Derek placed the phone back in its cradle. As he grabbed his case file and his jacket, he asked himself the age-old questions about life and death that had no answers. Taking a gulp of cold coffee, he headed off.
