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"Where is it?" Finn finally asked, trying not to sound too keen.
“Look, Finn,” Rob said, his voice now sounding concerned. “If you're not able, I can...”
“No,” Finn said, standing up. “I can do it. Besides, I wouldn't want you and Winters to grab all the good press. You need a handsome face for those front page headlines.”
Rob sighed. “Yes, very good. Just remember, I'm the handsome one in this operation.”
“Rob, I've told you before,” Finn said. “Leave the jokes to me.”
They both laughed. Finn felt good hearing his friend's voice again.
“So,” Finn said. “Where are we off to? London? A castle? Has some rich Lord eaten too much cake again and thinks his chef was trying to kill him? I keep telling you, it's the British food.”
"I'm sorry we don't all eat hamburgers and hot dogs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” Rob replied.
Finn then heard a muffled voice on the line, someone talking to Rob.
“I have to go... Pack a bag and get to Heathrow Airport," Rob replied urgently.
“Heathrow?” Finn said. “A plane?”
"Yes, it's one of those things with wings that got you here in the first place. Though this is a little more... Off the beaten path than you're used to. Amelia will be going with you, I can't make the journey, not yet. Get over to the airport as soon as you can., and be prepared: It's going to be a bumpy flight."
Finn sighed and hung up. The jokes with Rob quickly faded into the past.
He had always been able to separate his personal life from his professional duties. The murder cases he solved were like complex puzzles, and he didn't need a shrink to tell him that he sometimes used those puzzles as a substitute for fixing his own problems. Today, the boundaries between the two worlds seemed perilously thin. Having worked with the Home Office as a consulting detective, it had done him good to keep his mind off of his legal problems. But he was beginning to wonder if he was now using the cases as a crutch, a way to avoid facing up to what was really going on in his life with Demi and his career with the FBI.
His career back in the US was still on hold, the date of his court case still up in the air. The allegation was that Finn had caused hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of damage to a hotel building by ignoring a direct order from his superiors at the FBI to stand down until a hostage negotiator arrived. Finn knew there was no time for that and went in, rescuing the hostage, but much of the building becoming collateral damage in the firefight.
At least no one was hurt, he thought. But he did wonder if, like his relationship with Demi, he was accepting these cases from the British Home Office simply as a way to stop facing the pain ahead.
Finn's eyes shifted back to the message from Demi. He wondered about her claim of being blackmailed. Could it be true? The Demi he had fallen in love with had always been forthright, even blunt at times. Could she be trapped in a situation so dire that it would force her to betray him?
Doubts gnawed at his thoughts. He wanted to help her if she was in trouble, but he was so conflicted about whether it was a ruse or not. There was only one way to stop the thoughts swirling in his head, and the realization that he had put the confrontation off for too long dawned on him. With a new case to explore, there wouldn't be much time for that. In good conscience, he felt he couldn't leave her waiting forever. He had no idea how long this new case would take. The conversation had to move forward.
He needed to talk to her, to hear her voice, to gauge the sincerity—or deceit—in her words. With a sense of trepidation, Finn dialed her number. The phone rang twice before she picked up.
"Finn," she breathed out, relief palpable in her voice.
"Demi, we need to talk," he started, struggling to keep his voice steady. "Why couldn't you just phone or write a letter? Coming here has complicated things."
She sighed audibly, and for a moment, Finn pictured her—probably sitting alone in her hotel room near London, her eyes perhaps wet with unshed tears.
"I want to explain, Finn. I really do. But not over the phone. I've been staying here for weeks, trying to gather the courage to face you, to tell you everything. But you keep saying no. I'd half thought about coming to the cottage where you are staying."
"So why haven't you?" Finn's voice rose despite his efforts to remain calm. “Me saying no never stopped you before.”
"Because I was scared, okay? Scared you wouldn't believe me, scared that it would be the final nail in the coffin for us," Demi replied, her voice tinged with desperation. “I... I wanted to give you time to feel ready to talk. I didn't want to push you to breaking point.
"That’s a risk we'll have to take eventually, but... But not now," Finn retorted, "because right now, I can't separate the facts from the lies."
“I'm not one of your cases, Finn,” she said, her voice somber.
There was silence, a stretching quiet that filled the room like dark water rising up to their necks, paddling for dear life just to stay afloat and keep their connection alive.
Finally, Demi spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you, Finn. I want to fight for us, for our future. I'm not going anywhere until you hear me out. I'll stay in this crummy hotel all winter if I have to..."
Finn felt his resolve waver. There was an earnestness in her voice that he couldn't ignore. But could he afford to be swayed by emotion? With a heavy heart, he found himself saying, "I have to go, Demi. There's another case. Another murder. I can't deal with this right now. I wanted you to know before you read about it in the newspapers."
