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“Half the things people feel are irrational. It doesn’t make it easier to deal with. It actually makes it harder, because logic doesn’t come into it. That’s one of the downsides of being ‘merely’ human.”

Reel rubbed at one of her eyes. “He was an evil man. No conscience, Robie. His greatest thrill in life was to…was to hurt other people.”

“And he hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“And he killed your mother.”

A tear formed at the corner of Reel’s right eye. She flicked it away fiercely, even angrily, her hand moving like she was blocking a punishing blow about to be delivered against her.

She looked up at him, dry-eyed now. “He was the principal reason I do what I do.” She paused, seemed to consider her own statement, and added, “He’s the only reason I do what I do.”

“Normal people don’t grow up to do the sorts of jobs we do, Jessica,”

said Robie.

They listened to the rain a bit more before Robie said, “So what are you going to do? Just let it go?”

“Is that what you think I should do?” she said quickly, seizing on his words.

“The only thing I’m sure of is that you’re the only one who can answer that question.”

“And if it were you, what would you do?” she asked pointedly.

“But I’m not you,” he said evenly.

“You’re not helping much.”

“I’m listening. I can’t make up your mind for you. Not that you’d let anyone do that anyway.”

“With this I might.”

He drank his coffee and said nothing in response. He watched her as she closed her eyes and took several long breaths. When she opened them she said, “Why do you think he wants to see me?”

Robie sat back and put his cup on the coffee table that sat between them. “He’s dying. Redemption? Say goodbye? Tell you to go to hell? All of the above?” He leaned forward. “I think the more important question is, what would you say to him?”

She looked at him and Robie suddenly saw a fragility that he had never thought could possibly dwell inside her.

She said, “There is no forgiveness. I don’t care if he is a dead man.”

“I can see that. But it doesn’t answer the question.”

“And if I don’t have an answer?”

“Then you don’t have an answer.”

“Then I shouldn’t go?”

He said nothing to this, just continued to watch her.

She said, “I feel like I’m back in the shrink session.”

“I don’t have the qualifications. But whatever you decide to do, you’ll have regrets either way, you know that, right?”

“No, I don’t know that,” she said sharply. In a softer voice she said, “Why do you say that?”

“Maybe you’re not the only one who’s tried to come to grips with their past.”

Her lips parted slightly. “You?”

“Again, I don’t matter in this discussion. Just know that one answer over the other does not equal a solution. It’s only a decision. And decisions have ramifications either way.”

“You actually sound very qualified to be a shrink.”

Robie shrugged. “You want more coffee?”

She shook her head but he rose and got another cup for himself. When he settled back down across from her she said, “So does it come down to a decision of lesser regrets, then?”

“It might very well. But that’s only one set of factors.”

“What’s the most important one? In your opinion?” she quickly added.

“Like I said before. If you have something you want to say to him, then okay. If you have nothing in your heart that you want this man to hear before he croaks, then…”

“But not forgiveness,” said Reel. “I can never forgive him.”

“No, not forgiveness. And you don’t have to make a decision now.”

“They told me he could die anytime.”

Robie took a swallow of coffee. “Not really your problem, Jessica.”

“Can I ask you something, Robie?”

“Yes.”

“If I decide to see him.” She stopped. It seemed she was searching for either the words or possibly the courage to go on.

“Just say it, Jessica.”

“If I decide to go, will you go with me?” She added in a rush, “Look, I know it’s stupid. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself and—”

He reached over and gripped her hand. “Yes, I’ll go with you.”

Chapter

33

THE AIRPORT WAS SMALL AND the car rental options stood at one. Robie got the car while Reel retrieved the hard-sided bag containing their weapons.

She handed Robie his pistol while she slid into the seat next to him. He holstered the weapon and said, “What are the gun laws like in Alabama?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m being serious.”

“Basically, in Alabama if you have a pulse you can have a gun, as many of them as you want.”

She thunked the door closed and Robie started the car. “Thanks for the clarification,” he said curtly.

“You’re welcome.”

The ride to the prison would take an hour. Reel had called ahead and they were on the visitors’ list.

He gave her a sideways glance. “You ready for this?”

“No.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“When I was a little girl.”

“Then he’s changed a lot. I mean physically.”

“I’ve changed a lot more. And not just physically.”

“Decided what you’re going to say yet?”

“Maybe.”

“I won’t ask any more questions.”

She reached over and gripped his arm. “I really appreciate you coming with me, Robie. It…it means a lot to me.”

“Well, we’ve been through a lot together. If we don’t watch each other’s six, who will?”

She smiled at this comment and sat back against the seat. “I haven’t been back to this part of the country for a long time.”

“DiCarlo said you were a teenager when you went undercover and busted that neo-Nazi gang. Pretty remarkable. And the CIA found out about it when you were in WITSEC and recruited you.”

Reel was silent for a few moments. “My father believed in all that shit too. White supremacy. There’re many things to love in this country. The skinheads are not one of them.”

“So your father was a skinhead too?”

“I’m not sure he was that specific, actually. He basically hated everybody.”

“So the gang you busted all went to prison?”

“Not all of them. The head guy, Leon Dikes, had a good lawyer and only spent a few years in prison. When I was in foster care the ‘dad’ was related to someone in Dikes’s hate group.”

“A guy like that is eligible to be a foster parent?” said Robie.

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