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“They wanted to scare meorfind out what I knew, that’s why they only searched the office. They didn’t take anything—there was nothing here that they couldn’t have found through other means, so yeah—I think someone wanted to rattle my cage.”
“They clearly don’t know you.”
“I know you’re working on this, Charlie, but we need to talk to Peter Grey sooner rather than later. Whatever he told Tommy led him down this path, and we need that information.”
“If I don’t get answers in the morning, I’ll go straight to DC. It may be the only way we can get in to talk to him, but even then it’s a long shot.”
She agreed. “You’re going to tell the deputy director everything?”
“I already did. He doesn’t like that Tommy was working this off-book, but he didn’t ask questions that he didn’t want the answers to.”
“This has put you in a difficult position.”
He shook his head. “No. This is about doing what is right, and I’m with you one hundred percent—but I have to follow the rules.”
“I don’t expect you to break them. I’ll take the heat, Charlie—not you.”
“Don’t worry about me. Remember, you always told me I was the diplomat.” He smiled, sat down. “You need anything else? You want me to stay here tonight?”
“No. I’m fine. Really.”
She sat across from him, glad to get off her feet.
“How was dinner with Grant?”
“He canceled. After I was already in Chantilly.”
“Jerk,” he said, then added, “Sorry.”
“It was a jerk move,” Regan agreed. “I’m going to see him tomorrow. At his office, unannounced. I don’t know why he’s being difficult about this, why he’s avoiding me. Might he actually have an idea who killed Tommy? I don’t know!” She leaned back into the leather chair and closed her eyes. “I don’t knowwhatmy ex is thinking. Sometimes, I don’t think I ever did.”
They sat in companionable silence for a long minute. Regan considered that the two attacks against her—being followed and the break-in—were passive. No one confronted her; in fact, they intentionallyavoidedconfrontation.
She worked through a rough theory in her head, then said, “The killer took whatever was important when he killed Tommy. His phone, his laptop, the files. All this?” She waved her arm around to indicate everything that had happened toherin the last day, “is just making sure there’s nothing else that will come back on them. That’s my guess.”
“Them,” Charlie repeated. “There’s more than one person involved.”
A group of people, aconspiracy, making sure that the truth stayed buried.
“I’m going to find the truth, Charlie. It’s here, somewhere. I’ll find it and I’ll find Tommy’s killer. And learn what really happened the day Chase was murdered—and why.”
THURSDAY
Twenty-One
Nelson Lee sat on his deck, looking out at the Atlantic Ocean. The moon was rising, the ocean was calm, and he was filled with serenity as the night turned to morning. Sleep eluded him, but he didn’t need sleep when he was here, at home, refilling himself with a sense of peace.
He didn’t think about all the men and women he had killed, guilty or innocent.
He didn’t think about the wars he had fought.
He didn’t think about his past, the family that disowned him long before he started killing.
Nelson Lee didn’t think about much of anything, his mind blank, only some stray thoughts about what he would pick up at the farmer’s market this weekend in town. He would enjoy fresh strawberries, but last time they weren’t sweet enough. Apples were good almost all year, and he thought of baking an apple pie. A classic. Or if there was a decent variety of fruit, perhaps a tart. One of his past lovers had been a chef, and he’d learned quite a bit from her.
He didn’t miss Sherry. He had no regrets leaving when he did; he’d only been involved with her because of a job that had kept him in San Francisco for three months. But he did miss her cooking. Being a good student, he was now almost as good as she, though Sherry had a gift, an addedspark, that made her desserts especially heavenly.
His phone vibrated on the table next to him. He never expected a call, but he always had his phone with him. It was 12:22 a.m.
