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“Michaela and I have set our wedding date for New Year’s Eve,” Lambchop announced.
Congratulations filled the room.
Shepherd stood, signally the meeting was over. Goodbyes were exchanged with those in the video window, and the men began to file out of the room. Laura Lee approached Shepherd, where he now stood behind his desk.
“Sir, if I can have one more moment, please. I’d like to request permission to talk with Michelle Keslar and her mother and tell her the outcome of our investigation. She was willing to go on the record and I think she has the right to know it’s over, West is dead, and her willingness to talk to us made a difference. I’d also like to talk to the parents of Darla Rose as well. I promised them I would get back to them if we learned anything. Missus Rose is beating herself up that she didn’t pick up on her daughter being suicidal. She still blames herself. If she knows there is a chance her daughter didn’t kill herself, I think it will bring her some peace.”
“Yes, on the Keslar woman, talk with Lassiter first on the other,” Shepherd said. “And run what you plan to tell them by Garcia first.”
“Thank you, I will. I’d also like to tell them in person.”
“That isn’t necessary,” Shepherd said.
“I’d like to do that next week and be granted leave to see my family over Thanksgiving. They’re bound to have questions, and I’ll, of course, run what I’m allowed to tell them through Garcia.”
“You should not visit with either family alone,” Shepherd said.
“If you don’t need him to cover Ops, I’d like Brad Dupont to go with me,” she said courageously.
“Anything else?” Shepherd asked her.
“No, sir,” she said, thinking she’d overstepped. He seemed annoyed.
“All travel will be a personal expense to you. Talk with the Keslar woman by phone or in person, your choice. Report to me after your conversation with Lassiter regarding the other. Your leave begins Wednesday morning next week. Dupont’s as well. You’re both due back the following Monday at zero seven hundred. Understood?”
“Yes, sir, thank you.”
Zulu
The sun crept over the horizon, touching the highway in front of them with golden rays. The sky was clear. The remnants of night hung in the west, the darkness receding as the new day advanced. The silver metallic Acura Integra sped towards Indianapolis, the first of many cities they would travel through on this eleven-hour road trip, the first leg of their planned travel over the next five days.
Laura Lee reached her hand over and took hold of Brad’s, resting on the gear shift. When he’d suggested driving rather than flying, to accommodate the many stops they planned to make, she was skeptical. That was a lot of miles to put on his car, even though it would save a lot of money with not having to pay for airfare and then car rental.
Dupont, of course, had ulterior motives. He’d mapped the trip out. It was eleven hours from Chicago to Roanoke. They could spend the night in a hotel there after talking with Michelle Keslar and her mom. On Thanksgiving morning, they could drive the three hours to Richmond in plenty of time for the two of them to put the turkey into the oven.
Her mom had been ecstatic when she’d called to tell her she’d be there for Thanksgiving, was bringing her new boyfriend, and they’d have all the groceries delivered for the two of them to cook the dinner. They’d stay with her mom until Saturday when they would drive to Norfolk to visit with the Roses before heading south to Durham, North Carolina, where his mother lived. He wanted to introduce Laura Lee to his mother. That would give them Sunday for the twelve-hour drive back to Illinois. And by driving, there’d be a lot of room for any of her belongings that she wanted to move into his place.
“Let me know when you’re hungry and we can pull off and go through a drive through for breakfast,” he said.
“Not yet,” she answered. She lifted the thermos and held it up to him. “Do you want more coffee?”
“No, I’m good, thanks,” he said. He chuckled softly. “I never so much as drank a cup of coffee in this car, have always kept it pristine.”
“I feel honored,” she said. “We can stop for meals and not eat in the car, you know.”
“No, I don’t want to waste that time. It’s okay. All my babying of her meant nothing when I rammed that guy and crashed into the back end of that other car. His head cracked my windshield and there was blood all over it. So, seriously, do a few crumbs even matter?”
She squeezed his hand. “By looking at it, I can’t even tell it had been in an accident. They did a great job fixing it.”
The drive was uneventful, and they made it to Roanoke just before eighteen hundred hours. Laura Lee had called ahead, and they were expected when they pulled into Michelle Keslar’s driveway. Dupont called their arrival into Ops.
Yvette was on. “Ops, go, Circles.”
“We just arrived at the Keslar residence in Roanoke. We should be inside for about a half an hour and then we’ll stay near the interstate at a hotel for the night. I’ll message when we are done with this visit.”
“Roger that,” Yvette said. “You two have a safe drive up to Richmond and have a great Thanksgiving with her family.”
“Thanks Control,” he said. “You working tomorrow?”
