As Lucy drove home, she decided to find herself another surgeon—one not as determined to slice and dice and discard vital parts of her anatomy. When she turned onto her street in Pittsburgh’s West Homestead neighborhood, she rolled her shoulders, yawned to break the tension crackling along her jaw, and tried a smile.
Megan was visiting Nick’s parents for the last two weeks of her summer school vacation, which meant no fuss over Lucy’s birthday. A quiet dinner, followed by an early night enjoying the peace and quiet of a house absent a teenager: exactly what Lucy needed.
Then she saw a wheelchair-accessible van that looked exactly like Wash’s, her tech analyst from Beacon Falls. Weird. She passed the van and spotted black balloons flying from her mailbox.
The black banner across the garage door almost sent her driving around the block. Lordy, lordy, look who’s forty.
Oh, damn. Lucy stopped the Subaru just short of her driveway. Her phone rang; Nick. “What the hell?”
“Don’t blame me. I know how much you hate birthday parties. And surprises.”
And most especially surprise birthday parties. “Then who?”
“Megan. She arranged everything before she left—said you and I deserved a fun night out with grownup friends.”
Lucy sighed, her fingers stroking the black paracord bracelet Megan had made for her last Christmas—and regifted her another on Mother’s Day after Lucy lost the first one. Both she and Nick were introverts; she’d never understand how they’d conceived and raised such an extroverted daughter with her love of big, dramatic gestures.
Nick continued, “She didn’t even tell me until she called today to make sure I’d be home before you. Half the neighborhood is here with their grills in our backyard. Plus your old team from the FBI, everyone from Beacon Falls—even Oshiro and June got a babysitter and made it.”
Lucy turned into her driveway and somehow found the energy for a smile. “Maybe we should surprise her—they have a fairly decent high school down near your parents, right?”
“Are you kidding? A teenage girl living on a horse farm, no parental supervision, constantly being spoiled by her doting grandparents? She’d love it. We’d never hear from her again—at least not until she sent us the bill for college and/or her wedding.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Guess we broke her, we get to keep her.” The thought of the planning that had gone into this and how Megan had kept it secret widened her smile. “She really did all this on her own?”
“Yep. Kid’s some kind of logistic genius. Even more of a genius convincing all the adults in on it to go along with their part of the plan.”
Lucy opened the car door and swung her bad leg out first. There was no reason for it to hurt more than usual—other than the fact that the surgeon wanted to cut it off. But she couldn’t think of that now. Now she needed to act surprised and excited to see a few dozen people tramping through her house and garden. “Okay, tell them I’m coming in.”
“Love you, Lucy-loo.” He hung up.
As Lucy trudged up her front walk, moving more slowly than usual to give Nick time to arrange the party-goers, she glanced at her phone and realized she’d missed several calls while she’d had it turned off at the doctor’s. All from Bill Beachey, an old friend. She and Nick had first met him over a decade ago when he’d attended one of Lucy’s classes at the National Police Academy in Quantico. Turned out Bill was a Civil War buff like Nick, who had grown up outside Manassas, so he and his wife, Deena, had returned to visit when they were on vacation the following year. They’d seen each other a half-dozen times since, visiting various battlegrounds together. Last year Bill had retired from the Denver force to return to his hometown in Idaho and then became the county sheriff a few months ago. The work was a lot easier, he’d joked when he called a few months ago to explain why they needed to cancel this year’s trip—he and Nick had mapped out an itinerary of lesser known West Virginia battlegrounds—but Magruder County was broke, and with only two deputies to cover for him, Bill didn’t feel he could take vacation so soon after coming on board.
Megan must have invited Bill and Deena to the party and he was following up, sending their regrets, Lucy thought. Before she could listen to his messages, the front door sprang open, accompanied by a chorus of “Surprise!” and she was swept into a maelstrom of music, laughter, black balloons and streamers, hugs, and well-wishes.
She dropped her phone onto its charger and didn’t think about it again. Instead she surprised herself by relaxing and having fun, forgetting about her leg, her job, and her hatred of birthday parties. Even the dog, whose constant presence usually haunted her, was banished. Megan was right. She’d needed this—a night of fun with the people she loved most in the world.
It was almost midnight when the last guests finally left—after mostly taking care of the clean up, which was maybe the best birthday gift of all. Lucy hated housework and often neglected it to spend time in her garden. Luckily Nick was a bit of a neat freak.
As she and Nick were packaging and putting away the leftovers, her phone rang. Nick grabbed it from the charger. “Megan.”
Lucy put it on speaker as she answered. “Hi, sweetie! What are you doing up so late?”
“Happy birthday!” Megan sang out, blissfully ignoring Lucy’s question. “Were you surprised? Dad, was she surprised? For real, I mean, not just her ‘I already figured it out but I’ll play along anyway’ fake surprise.”
“I was really surprised,” Lucy admitted.
“She was,” Nick added. “But the black balloons almost drove her off.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want her soooo surprised that she wouldn’t relax and enjoy the party.”
Nick raised an eyebrow at Lucy, beaming at their daughter’s advanced social psychology skills. Lucy smiled back. They really were lucky Megan only used her talents for good—she was far smarter than the two of them in many ways.
“It was a great party,” Lucy assured Megan. “Thank you. Best birthday gift ever.”
“Of course now you’ve raised the bar,” Nick said. “Christmas, my birthday, our anniversary—”
“Don’t forget Mother’s Day and Father’s Day,” Lucy added. “Can’t wait to see what you’ll come up with for all those.”
Megan’s over-dramatic sigh echoed through the phone. “I’ve created a monster.” She yawned. “Gotta go. I’ll call you guys tomorrow, okay?”
“Love you, sweetie.”
“Love you, too. Night.” She hung up.
Lucy turned to Nick. “I know her being gone is the closest thing you and I have had to a private vacation in years, but I miss her.”
He leaned over to kiss her lightly. “She’ll be back soon enough—but in the meantime, I have my own birthday gift to give you.”
She kissed him back, draping one arm around his neck to pull him close. “I bet I can guess what it is.”
He took her hand and they walked through the first floor, turning off the lights. As they crossed the dining room, heading toward the stairs, she remembered the missed messages from Bill Beachey. Nick went to lock the door and turn off the living room lights while she listened to Bill’s voice mails.
“Lucy!” Bill sounded short of breath or excited. “I know this is going to sound weird, but I think I stumbled onto something here. Cold case, right up your alley. Call me when you get a sec. Thanks.”
Another, time-stamped twenty-six minutes later. “I’d sure love to run some stuff past you. Call me any time, day or night.”
Finally, an hour and forty-two minutes after the second message. “Guess maybe I was wrong. But damn, I was certain. Anyway, if you have a few minutes, give me a call.”
Nick returned as Lucy was staring at her phone, calculating the time difference, wondering if it was too late to call. “What is it?” he asked.
“Bill Beachey. He left three messages.” That alone said a lot—Bill was one of the most laconic lawmen she’d ever known.
“Megan must have told them about your birthday. But wait, it was Bill, not Deena?” Deena was the one to make social calls; Bill only called to talk cases, Civil War history, or arrange the details of a visit.
“Actually he didn’t even mention my birthday. A case—or something—he didn’t leave any details. He sounded really anxious that I call him.”
“They’re three hours behind, so they’ll probably still be up. Why don’t you? Probably easier than catching him at work in the morning.” Bill and his deputies were seldom in the sheriff’s station; they spent most of their time on the road patrolling their expansive territory. Plus Magruder County was in a remote area of Idaho’s Bitterroot mountains where cell reception was spotty at best.
Lucy dialed. No answer on Bill’s cell. She didn’t bother leaving a message; he’d know it was her calling back. Next she tried their residential landline.
“Hello?” It was Deena, but her voice was high-pitched and tight with tension.
“Deena? It’s Lucy Guardino. Is Bill around? He asked me to call. Hope it’s not too late; didn’t wake you, did I?”
There was a long pause. “Lucy? You talked to Bill? When? Today?”
“He left me three voice mails earlier today. Late morning or early afternoon your time.”
“What about? Did he say where he was? Or where he was going?” Deena’s words skidded into each other as she rushed them all out in one breath.
“No. Deena, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“I don’t know. Lucy, he’s gone. He never came home, and no one’s heard from him. Bill’s missing.”