CHAPTER SEVEN

1000 Eighteenth Street
10:20 P.M.

 

 

He should have had a double while he had the chance.

McBride hated to wait. Worth had called and demanded their presence then kept them waiting in his office for fifteen minutes.

There’s another e-mail.

This thing wasn’t going to go quietly away. Murphy’s Law McBride style: Nothing was ever easy. This was supposed to be a one-shot deal. Come, do what he could to save the kid, and then leave.

He regarded Grace from the corner of his eye rather than looking directly at her. Eye contact would prompt conversation and just now he had no desire to talk. He was relatively certain she didn’t know any more about what was going on than he did. She sat perched on the edge of the other designed-for-discomfort chair stationed in front of the SAC’s desk, looking as miserable as he felt. But that wasn’t possible. You had to have hit a place so low that it didn’t even register on most people’s rock-bottom radar in order to feel this. It took skill to fall this far.

The door burst open and Worth rushed in, his posture as rigid as any general’s. “I apologize for keeping the two of you waiting.” He rounded his wide mahogany desk, placed a folder atop its gleaming surface, and rested his hands there as if bracing for war. “I’ve just come from a teleconference with Quantico.”

That he focused on McBride as he made the statement was an added indication that this wasn’t going to be good for him. The idea of having some hotshot agent he’d once mentored or supervised show up to tell him what to do ranked on about the same level as pissing broken glass.

“Since we don’t yet have a second victim,” Worth went on in that authoritative tone he’d refined to a monotonous roar, “and we’re still waiting on the forensics folks to get back to us with any evidence found at the scene, there isn’t a lot Quantico can do to assist us with developing a profile.”

Typical. “That all sounds just dandy,” McBride interrupted when Worth would have launched into the next segment of his monologue, “but you called us here about an e-mail.” He inclined his head in question. “Is there an e-mail we need to see? You’re cutting into my personal time with a friend.” In this instance, his friend was Jack Daniel’s. No offense to the lovely Vivian Grace. He doubted she would be caught dead spending any more time with him than necessary. If he was smart, he would adopt the same attitude.

Next to him, she shifted in her chair, a clear signal that his high-handedness with Worth was making her nervous.

She’d just have to get over it.

“Yes, McBride,” Worth said, his tone reluctant, as if what he was about to say were a last resort. “There is another e-mail from the unsub who refers to himself as Devoted Fan.”

Worth opened the folder he’d placed on his desk and removed a single sheet of white printer paper. He passed it across his desk. “Read it for yourself.”

McBride read the words, each one adding another layer of suffocating tension.

McBride,

Bravo! You saved Alyssa Byrne. I am sure you recognized the simplicity of this challenge. I wanted to give you a practice run in case you were a little rusty. Now, we shall remind them just how good you really are. The next one will not be so simple. Get a good night’s sleep. I will e-mail your new challenge tomorrow. Soon they will see!

Honored,
Your Devoted Fan

McBride passed the page to Grace without meeting her eyes.

Who the hell was this guy?

He scrubbed his hand over his face. What the hell did the bastard want from him?

Finding the Byrne child had been a piece of cake. Like the e-mail suggested, the clues had been simple, the timeline ridiculously ample.

That was where the good part ended.

Didn’t this nutjob get it? He was rusty. The “special agent” in him was over, a has-been. There was no going back to the legend he used to be. Not now, not tomorrow.

Determined not to entertain Worth, McBride grasped the arms of the chair to prevent his hands from shaking. Maybe if he e-mailed this Devoted Fan and told him straight up that he wasn’t that hero anymore, the guy would go away.

Yeah, right. And immediately afterward he would e-mail .his Christmas list to Santa. One of those plans was about as realistic as the other.

“This far from over,” Worth said when Grace lifted her attention from the page. “For now, whoever this Devoted Fan is, we have to assume that he’s serious about this plan to … ah”—his gaze settled on McBride—“make you a hero again.”

That he said the last with a distinct element of derision didn’t really bother McBride. He’d been insulted by more important pricks than this one.

“Looks that way,” McBride agreed. No point in denying the obvious. “So, do you and Quantico have a plan?” That was the usual strategy in situations like these. Even if Quantico wasn’t sending a profiler or team in to assist, they generally had advice.

“We have no choice but to react.” Worth lowered himself into his chair and gave the impression of relaxing but McBride didn’t miss the tightening along his jawline, around his mouth. “I’ll assign three of my best agents, Talley, Aldridge, and Davis to work with you until this is done. Once we have a clearer picture of where this is going, Quantico will provide whatever else we need. At this point we don’t have a pattern or any usable evidence. We don’t have anything.” Worth kept his attention steady on McBride, didn’t spare Grace so much as a glance. “We’ll, of course, accommodate you at the Tutwiler as long as necessary. Since you didn’t come prepared for a prolonged stay, Agent Davis will see that you have any personal items you require.”

Worth had been a busy little bee.

“As much as I appreciate your attention to detail, especially the personal ones,” McBride admitted without his standard sarcasm, “nothing about that careful plan you just laid out addresses the fact that I have an employer to answer to or that I haven’t agreed to stay.” He forced his fingers to unclench, his posture to relax. He might not have a lot of choices in his current circumstances but there were at least two he intended to make whether or not Worth or Quantico liked his decisions.

“We can’t make you stay, that’s true,” Worth allowed, the tension McBride had already noted ratcheting up visibly. “We’re all assuming, of course, that you’ll want to do the right thing.”

Oh yeah, the right thing. “You mean the way the Bureau did three years ago when I got the boot?”

Worth nodded, his expression smug. “You see, that’s the thing that gives us pause, McBride.” He tapped the folder on his desk. “No one has anything to gain by proving what a hero you are or that the Bureau made a mistake three years ago. No one, except you. Don’t you find that ironic?”

Yeah, that term just kept popping up lately. Apparently, Fate had a hell of a sense of humor.

Time to cut the crap.

“Here’s the deal, Worth.” McBride nailed him with a look that warned there would be no negotiations. “This unsub hasn’t left me a choice, so I’ll do whatever I have to. Your boys can be on standby to provide whatever backup I need, but the only agent I’ll work with is Grace. That’s my deal, take it or leave it.”

The stare-off lasted all of five seconds.

Worth leaned forward. “Let me just get this out of the way,” he said, his tone seething, “I don’t like you, McBride. You’re all about flash and dazzle and breaking the rules. Well, I’m real happy that worked for you for a while, but the fact of the matter is, that’s exactly why you’re where you are now and I’m where I’m at.”

He reclined into his chair once more and released a big breath. “That aside, we’ll play this your way for a little while. Agent Grace will provide support for you until further notice. But don’t think you’re going to go all Dirty Harry on me. I’m still in charge. You will report to me. The decisions made on this case will be a team effort, no exceptions.”

McBride leaned forward this time, stared straight into his eyes with cold, unflinching conviction. “But the final vote will be mine. Since,” he added mockingly, “we’re playing this my way for a while.”

Worth didn’t cave immediately, at least he didn’t say the words. But McBride knew he’d won. He knew exactly how the Bureau felt about him before Worth had given his little speech. There wasn’t an agent on active duty, including Grace, that McBride could trust. But she was a rookie, and a woman; he would take his chances with her. He might be rusty, but he wasn’t a fool. He understood where his strengths lay.

“The final vote is yours,” Worth agreed.

 

 

Vivian had had enough. “Don’t I have a say in this?”

The attention of both men swiveled her way. Until that moment she had felt as if she weren’t even in the room.

“Do you have a question about your orders, Agent Grace?” Worth leveled a look on her that said she should not try playing hardball with him.

She hesitated, but didn’t back down. “Yes, I do. What voice do I have in this? I’m supposed to do whatever McBride says?” She glanced at him, didn’t dare linger. Putting up with him for the day was one thing, but if she was going to be working with him for an unknown period of time, she wanted clear boundaries. The man had absolutely no respect for the concept, and bottom line, he scared the hell out of her. There was absolutely no way to gauge what his reactions were going to be in a given situation. Kidding herself would be stupid.

Before Worth could respond to that part of her question, she went on, “It’s been three years since McBride was on active duty. A lot has changed. I need clearance to ensure that current procedures and protocols are followed.” That he was staring at her made her want to fidget, but she defied the impulse. She wasn’t backing down. Not on this.

“That goes without saying, Grace,” Worth said, his tone subtly reprimanding. “Both of you”—he looked from her to McBride and back—“will be expected to follow the rules. These circumstances aren’t an excuse to do otherwise. Until we get this guy, we have a somewhat unique situation, but that situation does not”—he sent a pointed look at McBride—“I repeat, does not, give either of you carte blanche for ignoring authority.”

McBride got up, sent another glance in Vivian’s direction that she couldn’t ignore. “I’ll be outside.”

Startled that he would just walk out, she prepared to follow him. Dammit. Every time she pushed back, he made her afraid she had gone too far. With this unsub threatening more challenges—victims, in other words—McBride’s cooperation could become even more essential.

How did she keep him in line while staying on his good side? She was reasonably sure of the option he would prefer but he could forget about it. She wasn’t putting her career on the line for him. Going up against Worth initially had been for Alyssa Byrne, not for Ryan McBride.

A thin, jagged line—one she would just have to find a way to walk.

“We need a minute, Grace,” Worth said, waylaying her. “Close the door.”

A new kind of tension shuffled through her. She closed the door and returned to stand in front of the SAC’s desk. Sitting was out of the question. It was all she could do to prevent her foot from tapping impatiently. She needed to get out there and smooth things over with McBride. But first, she was apparently going to have to hear about questioning Worth’s orders in McBride’s presence. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time she had stepped on his toes in the six months she had been assigned to the Birmingham office. Not exactly the best way to further her career. She knew this, but her determination and ambition always got in the way of her humility and, oftentimes, her good sense.

A less than stellar performance evaluation wouldn’t look good when she came up for reassignment or promotion.

“Yes, sir?” That he had let her stand there and stew had her nerves jangling.

“First, just so you know, Alyssa Byrne is fine. The doctors found no indication of harm or abuse. She was sedated, but the drug utilized was safe for pediatric use. So far, she doesn’t remember anything after getting out of the car at school.”

“Could that be from the drug?” Memory loss was a common occurrence after prolonged sedation, like during surgery. They might never have a description of her abductor—even if the child had gotten a look at the unsub.

“That’s a possibility.” He released a long, beleaguered sigh, signaling that he was ready to move on to the real reason he had asked her to stay. “I’m going to let your disrespect in questioning my orders slide this time considering what you’re dealing with.”

She experienced some amount of relief, yet at the same time she felt just a tad guilty for condoning with her silence what sounded like a cut-down of McBride. He had come to Birmingham with her and helped rescue that little girl. But, neither guilt nor appreciation could get in the way of doing this right. If he got out of control and things went wrong, it would be her career on the line. She wasn’t going to let that happen. The Bureau was her life. She wasn’t risking all she had worked for. Requesting clear boundaries had been necessary.

“Thank you, sir. I honestly meant no disrespect, it’s just that—”

He held up his hands for her to wait. “Never mind about that.” He propped his hands on his desk and clasped them as if he felt the urge to pray. “Quantico is still concerned that McBride might somehow be behind this.”

McBride was on the edge, she would go along with that for sure. His reliability and reasoning were in doubt without question. But this concept of him being the bad guy simply wasn’t realistic. “Sir, I can’t see how that’s possible.”

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Worth said, surprising her, “I’m inclined to agree with you.”

Her impatience giving way to curiosity, she wilted into the chair she had abandoned and searched his face for some clue as to what he knew that perhaps he hadn’t divulged so far. “It feels like McBride is a pawn in this, the same as we are.”

Worth nodded in agreement, perhaps somewhat grudgingly. “I said basically the same thing to Quantico. That mess three years ago set the Bureau on its ear. No one wants this situation following that same path.”

Vivian remembered McBride’s last case. The media had focused on it for weeks. But it was reading the final reports McBride had written that had driven all the ugly details home. Kevin Braden had been abducted by his godfather, a man trusted and loved by the family. McBride had tracked him down and the child was still alive. He had gotten close enough to reach out and touch the boy when his superior, Special Agent-in-Charge Andrew Quinn, had insisted on a change in strategy. Quinn had claimed McBride was too close to the edge, a loose cannon. Things had gone to hell in a hurry and Kevin Braden had ended up murdered by his abductor who then killed himself. The autopsy report indicated that the boy had been sexually molested by his beloved godfather.

McBride had taken the fall.

“Our control over how this plays out is limited,” Worth said, dragging her from those awful thoughts, “but we absolutely have to keep McBride under control. That order came straight from the director.”

Worth would get no argument from her there. “I agree,” she confessed, “it would be in everyone’s best interest for McBride to have some close supervision.”

“This isn’t going to be easy, Vivian,” Worth warned. “This is your first major case and, frankly, I’m worried. McBride’s hanging on by a thread. From all reports, he’s a drunk. You could be biting off more than you can chew.”

Evidently he was worried. Worth never, ever called any of his agents by their first names.

“I can handle it, sir.” She had to make him see that she was capable of dealing with this kind of pressure. The past she had worked so hard to overcome proved a constant hurdle even now. Like the few other people who knew her history, Worth felt it necessary to be cautious, protective. And dammit, she was tired of it. She had plans and goals—like landing a spot on one of Quantico’s elite specialized units. The past was not going to hold her back. “My performance at the academy and my work ethic since coming to Birmingham have given you no reason to question my ability. Don’t do it now.”

“As long as you keep your objectivity we won’t have a problem,” he insisted. “If you suspect for a second that you’re losing control over the situation, let me know. Don’t hotdog, Grace. We can’t afford to let McBride go—”

“Dirty Harry on us,” she supplied. “You can count on me, sir.” Her pulse rate reacted to an adrenaline dump. This case was hers. Officially. ’Bout time.

Worth pointed a finger at her. “Just watch him. Don’t let him charm you into trusting him. Despite your assessment, we still can’t completely rule out his involvement.”

“I understand, sir.” She stood. “I won’t let you down.”

“One more thing.”

Again she hesitated, waited for him to say whatever else was on his mind.

“Agent Pierce called.”

Anger flared too fast to prevent it from showing. “Was the call relevant to me?”

Worth made an impatient face. “You know it was.”

Somehow she had thought that she’d made it clear to her former friend and mentor that he was to keep his nose out of her career. Special Agent Collin Pierce was the reason she was stuck back in her hometown when a highly sought after Baltimore assignment had been hers. Graduating at the top of her class had come with a perk or two, but Pierce had screwed her out of what was rightfully hers. All because of that damned past.

“If he somehow influences anything relative to my career,” she warned, “that borders on harassment. I won’t stand for it, sir.” She had said it before and she meant it. As dear as Agent Pierce had once been to her, still was on some level, she would not tolerate his interference any longer.

“He heard about this business with McBride and he wanted to see how things were going.” Worth searched her face too long before he said, “He’s worried about you, Grace. Should he be?”

There were a number of things she started to tell Worth he could pass on to Pierce for her, but she kept them to herself. “Tell him I’m fine. Is there anything else, sir?”

Worth shook his head and she walked out. Headed for the stairs. Taking them hard and fast would help her work off some of this steam. Pierce had no right checking up on her. She could do the job. This was her case. Finally. And she wasn’t going to let Pierce undermine Worth’s confidence in her.

In the lobby, she hesitated and considered the real facts here. As much as she would like to believe the end decision for giving her this case was based on her ability, she knew better. Especially considering the call Worth had gotten.

She was on this case because McBride had insisted.

For that, she owed him some amount of allegiance.

He waited in the parking lot by her SUV, the ever-present Marlboro tucked between his lips. That her gaze lingered there as she approached was not a good sign. Objectivity was essential. She couldn’t let him get to her on any level.

“I think you should program my number into your cell,” she suggested, reaching into her purse for her keys. She hit the remote to unlock the vehicle’s doors. If they were going to be working together they might as well act like partners. “And I want you to know I appreciate your vote of confidence. That you trust me enough to work closely with me, is …”—she shrugged, going for nonchalance—“flattering.”

Oh God. Did that sound as stupid as she thought?

McBride took one last drag from his cigarette before putting it out and finally meeting her gaze across the hood of her Explorer.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it trust, Grace,” he corrected in that arrogant way that he somehow managed to pull off as sexy. “My options were limited and you seemed like the safest bet. Let’s just hope we can get through this without regretting it.”

There was something about the way he said the words, the blatant uncertainty coming from the man whose reputation as the best had been unparalleled, unmarred by failure—except that once—that triggered her own insecurity.

For the first time in her career she wondered if she really had what it took to do this. What if everyone else was right and the past had damaged her somehow that doomed her to failure?

Only one way to find out.