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Sean kissed her again.
Kate cleared her throat from the hall. “Can I get you both in here? Noah has to head back to headquarters to brief the Assistant U.S. Attorney, and we’re all hungry.”
Lucy and Sean followed Kate to the kitchen, where everyone involved in the case was serving up a buffet that Dillon had brought in from Lucy’s favorite restaurant. Abigail, Noah, Hans—they were all there. Noah’s right hand had been burned and was wrapped in bandages.
Once everyone was seated, Dillon prayed a simple grace. They ate in silence, then Lucy asked Noah, “I need to know what happened out there at the farm. How many?”
She didn’t need to elaborate.
“They found the remains of twelve women,” Noah said. “Seven from just the last six months. The others were from before his incarceration.” He sipped water.
They ate in silence awhile longer, then Noah said, “The U.S. Attorney is going to negotiate a plea agreement with Mallory and Buckley.”
Lucy closed her eyes. Sean sought her hand under the table. “I expected that.”
“That’s what my meeting is about this afternoon. We’re keeping this all under wraps. I don’t have to tell you what would happen if the public got wind that two former FBI agents were vigilante killers.”
“Half the people would support them, the other half would vilify the Bureau,” Lucy said. “I understand.”
Kate said, “But Mallory won’t be getting out of prison, ever.”
Noah said, “They’re still working through the details, but they’re talking about giving Buckley fifteen-to-life and Mallory life without parole. Mallory has been forthcoming, but it took what happened with Miller to get Buckley to tell her lawyer she wanted to cut a deal.”
“What about why those parolees were targeted?” Kate asked.
Noah and Hans exchanged a glance. Hans said carefully, “Some questions are better left unanswered.”
They suspected, Lucy realized, but maybe couldn’t prove it. Or didn’t want to.
“Don’t over-think it,” Noah said. “There is no definitive proof, and neither Buckley or Mallory have added anything to their statements.”
“What happens to WCF?” Lucy asked. “We did good work—”
“They’re shutting it down. They have to,” Noah added. “But Hans is going to make sure the work you were doing—minus the parolee project—will continue.”
She turned to Hans. “You are?”
“I have friends at a similar organization based in Texas. Our field office down there has worked extensively with them, and they’re under the radar. As soon as we get the okay from the Justice Department, all WCF files will be sent to them.”
“Thank you,” Lucy said, though the information was bittersweet.
“There’s one more thing,” Noah said. “I asked Mallory where the box of Adam Scott’s souvenirs was. He wasn’t very forthcoming, but he gave us the key to the safe deposit box. There was one request he had, and I agreed to it, provided you agree.”
Dillon said, “He has no right to ask Lucy for anything.”
“He doesn’t, but—well, essentially, he asked if you would retrieve it and decide whether the families should have the items back.”
Her fork slipped from her fingers. “Why?”
Hans said, “He said he never wanted to hurt anyone, and if seeing the items would hurt the families, you would know.”
Lucy didn’t know how the survivors would react. Some would want the items returned, others wouldn’t.
Noah said, “The jewelry was recovered in the course of a federal investigation, and the rule of the Bureau is to return all personal items not necessary for trial to the victims’ families. But identifying which item belongs to which family could prove difficult.”
Lucy knew that wasn’t completely true. Most families would know what personal effects were missing when the body was found. But Noah was giving her an out.
Everyone was looking at her.
