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Thirty-Six

One moment here. The next gone. To think that just two days ago Jenna Kelter had been alive, and today, her husband would be receiving word of her murder.

Zach and Paige were waiting at a red light. There were cars in front of them, cars behind them. At this rate, they’d be lucky to reach Abigail Cole’s place by dinnertime. The dash clock already read one in the afternoon.

He looked over at Paige. “When we wrap up this case, I won’t miss Miami traffic.”

“It is crazy.” Paige smiled at him, but her mind seemed to be somewhere else.

“You okay?” The fact he was asking her that question when she’d asked him the same thing yesterday just proved how life could change. Nothing was predictable or guaranteed. Why should they ever fall into the trap of believing the killers they hunted were?

“I’ll be all right,” she told him, though she lacked conviction.

The light turned green.

“This is me you’re talking to,” Zach said as he drove through the intersection. “I know something’s bothering you.”

“Honestly?” She turned toward him. “This job gets easier in some ways, but not in others. Maybe part of this is your fault. Your talk about leaving the BAU has me thinking about my future.” She sounded somewhat melancholy.

“You’re going to leave—”

“Never,” she shot out. “I wouldn’t know who I am without this job.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“I see something that horrific and…” Her gaze snared his as if seeking understanding.

He nodded. “I get exactly what you’re saying without you saying it. I was thinking the same earlier.”

“Right? My stomach didn’t even clench at the sight of it.” Contrasting her serious confession, her face brightened, and she laughed. “Did you catch the look on Brandon’s face?”

“How could I have missed it?” He snickered, and realized that he and Paige weren’t laughing as much at Brandon as they were envying his wide-eyed innocence.

That thought morphed, the innocence suddenly representing his unborn child. Every day, he’d be witness to their curiosity and growing passion as they explored the world around them. But if he stayed with the BAU, how much of that would he miss? Wouldn’t it be better for his child, for Sheri, for him, if he had a job that allowed him to be around more often?

Zach pulled into the lot for Cole’s apartment building. It was located in Overtown, just north of the downtown core.

They parked and then rang up to the seventh floor where Cole’s unit was. She buzzed them inside.

A couple of minutes later, Zach had his hand raised to knock on her apartment door when it opened and cold air rushed out into the hall. A thirtysomething woman stood there in flannel pajamas and fuzzy slippers. She smelled of cigarette smoke and whiskey. Her hair was greasy and plastered to her skull, her eyes red rimmed. She looked much better in her DMV photo, but this was unmistakably Abigail Cole.

“Who are you?” she asked gruffly as if they were intruding. Which he guessed they sort of were.

Zach held up his badge. “We’re agents with the FBI, and we’d like to talk with you about Justin Cole.”

The woman pointed a finger at Zach and swayed. “He’s dead.”

“We realize that, ma’am,” he said.

“Did you really just call me ma’am when you’re older than I am?” She screwed up her brow.

Zach wasn’t going to argue semantics. Besides, he never understood why women took issue with being called ma’am in the first place. He gestured to her apartment. “May we come in?”

Abigail hesitated but eventually stepped back, sweeping out an extended arm as an invite. Once the three of them were inside, Abigail locked the dead bolt and slid the chain across. “It’s not the best building, but it’s what I can afford. Follow me.” Abigail sashayed toward a living room where she plopped down onto a couch. “And never mind that old clunker.” She turned her head toward a window where an air conditioner rumbled, kicking out cold air and dripping water onto a towel on the carpet beneath it. “It’s noisy but it works.”

That was a matter of opinion. The water should have been routed outside…

“Sit wherever you’d like,” Abigail told them, but the options were limited. They could join her on the couch or…

A nearby kitchen table had four chairs around it. Zach grabbed one for himself and one for Paige and set them across from the couch.

“My name’s Zach Miles, and this is Paige Dawson,” he said.

Abigail’s face was blank, and she reached for a glass next to her that held two fingers’ worth of amber liquid. She took a large mouthful that had her cheeks bulging before she swallowed. She swiped a hand across her mouth. “Why do you want to talk about Justin?” Her eyes were dead when they met Zach’s. If it was possible grief had broken the woman.

“We’re sorry for your loss, Mrs. Cole,” Paige offered, seeming to have picked up on the same thing Zach had.

Abigail blinked slowly. “Do you know how many times I’ve been told that over the last seven years? More than I can count. And you know what? It never makes it easier.” Her mouth twitched as if she was about to burst into tears, but she held herself together.

Zach nodded sympathetically. “We can only imagine how difficult—”

“Can you?” Abigail barked. “You know that I lost his baby, too? Just from the stress of losing Justin. My body…” Abigail’s chin quivered. “I’ve relived that day so many times in the last seven years. And each time I wake up hoping that it was all a bad dream, but then I realize it wasn’t. This is my life now. No husband and no baby.”

The heavy weight of her grief was its own entity in the room. It stabbed Zach in the heart, the resulting pain blinding and suffocating. He could never put Sheri through this. Sure, Justin had died in some random accident, only testifying to the fact life could end at any time, but being a field agent was like tempting fate.

Paige glanced at him and took over. She pulled out her phone. “We’d like to know if you’ve ever seen any of these men?”

Zach was there in body—his ears hearing Paige and Abigail talking, and Abigail’s swearing she’d never seen any of the men in the photo array—but his imagination had already taken over. He envisioned Sheri suffering years after his death, her life flipped upside down because of him, her drinking heavily in the afternoon in a crappy apartment… Their child who knows where, doing who knows what.

“We understand you used to be an active member of St. John’s Catholic Church on Northeast Second Street and Northeast First Avenue.” Paige’s voice made it to his ears as if she were speaking from a great distance.

“Yes.” Abigail took another draw on her drink. “What about it?”

“One of the men that Paige showed you was seen at your church,” Zach said, forcing himself back to the moment, back to reality.

Paige held up her screen and the photo of the unsub.

Abigail shook her head. “I’ve never seen him. I told you that.”

“Around the time of Justin’s funeral, did you receive any monetary donations?” Zach asked.

Abigail indicated her surroundings.

Zach and Paige said nothing.

Abigail rolled her eyes. “Yes, okay, I did.”

Zach could have questioned her hesitancy to respond or asked why she had said it that way, but instead, he remained quiet and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

Abigail slid her gaze to him. “My cousin, Agatha…”

Zach nodded to encourage her to continue, but when she didn’t do so of her own accord, he asked, “She gave you money?”

“She gave some to me, but Agatha doesn’t have much money sitting a— Oh, is that why you’re here? Something to do with the money? Am I in trouble for something?”

Paige held up a hand. “Not at all. How much money were you given?”

“I tell you, it helped a lot in the beginning. Justin didn’t have life insurance,” she started, dancing around what Zach wanted to know; he was just waiting for her to say thirty thousand. “You’d think twenty thousand would go far, but it doesn’t,” she said.

“That’s still a lot of money,” Paige pointed out.

It wasn’t the number he’d wanted to hear, but as Paige had said, it was a large sum. What was more interesting was the fact that Abigail didn’t believe her cousin had that kind of money. So where did she get it? “Did you ever ask your cousin where she got all that money?” Zach asked.

“She told me not to worry about it. To see it as a gift from God, but I will never forgive Him for what He took away from me.” Tears fell down her cheeks while rage stormed in her eyes. Not only had she lost her husband and unborn baby, but she’d lost her faith in God.

“Have you ever considered grief counseling?” he asked gently.

“No thanks,” Abigail spat. “Agatha tried to get me to go to some support group for grieving family members.” Abigail was shaking her head adamantly. “That’s not for me.”

“There are other people out there who are trained to help others work through their grief,” Paige said.

“Yeah, and they all cost money. I don’t have any left.” Abigail drained the rest of her drink. “Mark would have been seven this year. If I hadn’t wanted that dumb ice cream, then none of this would have happened. Both of them would still be here.”

Zach figured Mark was the baby she’d lost. As he listened to Abigail, he observed her tense body language. She viewed healing as a threat to her memories, to the life she’d had. Despite all the time that had passed since the accident, she wasn’t ready to heal and move on yet. She’d become comfortable in her pain, likely seeing the walls she’d erected as a cozy cocoon that protected her from opening up and getting hurt again.

“My mom says I should get out and meet someone. She reminds me that I’m still young, but then adds that I won’t be forever.” Abigail’s eyes clouded over. “It’s like she expects me to just replace Justin and Mark, pretend they never existed. At least that lady driver ended up getting hers. Not that it brings my husband and baby back.” Her eyes cleared, and she locked her gaze on Zach, then Paige. “Why are you really here asking questions, showing me pictures?”

“Have you heard about the missing woman?” Zach asked.

Abigail’s eyes widened. “Jenna Kelter, the mayor’s niece? Of course I have. It said on the news that she’d just got released from serving a prison sentence for DUI vehicular homicide.” Abigail lifted her glass to her mouth but then noticed it was empty and set it back down. “Is someone out there targeting people convicted of drinking and driving?”

It hadn’t taken much for Abigail to take that leap. Impressive. “The investigation is still open,” Zach said.

“Well, you don’t have to say anything. I know that’s what brings you here.” Abigail tapped a hand over her heart. “Wait a minute, you don’t think I’m involved with this do you? Or that Agatha is?” Her eyes darted back and forth between them.

Zach squinted. “Why would we think your cousin would be involved in any way?”

“She went crazy when she heard about Marie Sullivan’s murder.”

“Crazy how?” Paige asked.

Abigail frowned. “Just really shaken up. In shock but giddy, saying she got what she deserved.”

Zach wasn’t sure what to make of it. They had their eyes on a male unsub and hadn’t completely dismissed a partnership. If there was a partner, though, they’d thought it was the delivery guy. But what if it was Agatha, a woman? She’d had quite the reaction to Sullivan’s murder from what Abigail had said—and not in a good way. Plus, Agatha hadn’t been forthcoming with Abigail about where she had gotten the money…

“How did the news make you feel?” Paige asked.

Abigail looked at her. “I didn’t have any feelings about it really.”

“So your cousin said Marie Sullivan got what she deserved?” Paige brought up.

“Yes, but so did I.” Abigail sniffed again. Her eyes beaded with fresh tears. “I’m the one who sent him out for ice cream.” Her chin quivered, and she stood. “I’m sorry, but you have to leave.”

Zach and Paige had just cleared the door when it was slammed shut, and Zach heard the bolt lock and the chain slide into place.

“Don’t come back!” Abigail wailed through the door.

Paige exhaled deeply. “Why do I feel like shit now?”

“Because we’re not completely callous after all.” Zach gave her a tight smile, taking some comfort in that conclusion himself.

They loaded onto the elevator and headed back to the lobby. “I think the cousin is worth a visit,” Paige said. “Should I update Jack?”

“They do always say to follow the money.” He just hoped to hell it would get them somewhere they wanted to go.