FIFTEEN
The next morning when she woke up, Kaely called Richard. When he answered, she said, “I had the dream again.”
“I’ll meet you in the park at seven, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, Richard.”
Kaely hung up the phone, grateful for Richard, who’d volunteered to fill the spot vacated by Kaely’s mother and father. He’d helped her through so much. She dressed quickly and headed to Forest Park. She drove straight to the Grand Basin. She loved it here. It was so peaceful. She and Richard liked to sit and watch the fountains glisten in the morning sun while they ate breakfast from a local bakery. Hot apple fritters and coffee. Kaely was aware of the art museum behind them. It had always been one of her very favorite buildings, but this morning, it felt like she was sitting in death’s shadow. Would this special place ever feel the same?
She hoped so. It was a convenient spot to meet since Richard lived near the park, and it was on Kaely’s way to work. They used to get together once a week, but lately, Kaely had been so busy that she’d had to cancel several times. She felt a little guilty about it since Richard had moved to St. Louis just to be near her, but he never got upset. He always understood. His total acceptance made her feel loved, something she’d never experienced with her own family.
When she parked her car, she saw him already waiting. She hurried over to the steps near the water and sat down next to him.
“We may have to move to the coffee shop soon,” she said, trying not to let her teeth chatter in the cold. Sitting by the water made it even chillier.
Richard grinned at her and handed her a cup of coffee. “Either that or we could build a fire.”
Kaely laughed and took the cup from him, then accepted the wrapped fritter he gave her, the warmth seeping through the waxed paper. “I don’t understand how you always get these here while they’re still hot.”
“It’s just one of my many talents,” he said. “Along with asking Davis, the owner, to nuke them a bit before I leave.”
Kaely took a sip of her coffee and then put it on the ground next to her, unwrapping part of her fritter and taking a bite. Apples, cinnamon, sugar, and pastry melted together in her mouth, making her sigh with pleasure. “Nothing better than this,” she mumbled.
Richard pulled his dark blue stocking cap down tighter over his graying hair. Kaely liked his face. It was friendly. Hazel eyes framed by smile lines. A large nose that perfectly matched his wide mouth. Richard’s smile always made her feel better. He’d been through a lot in his life. The loss of his wife. The realization that his close friend was a serial killer, and the end of his practice, although that decision was one he’d made on his own. Thankfully, he’d earned quite a bit of money and squirreled it away so he didn’t have to work. Originally, the savings were supposed to be for himself and Bella. They’d planned to travel when he retired. Now he was alone—except for Kaely. Recently, he’d started doing some volunteer work at a suicide prevention hotline directed toward teens. She could tell it had reignited his passion for helping people, and she was grateful he’d taken the step to dust off his counseling skills.
“So, how are you?” Kaely asked.
Richard nodded. “Good. I just got back from Des Moines.”
“I had no idea you’d gone.”
“I would have called to tell you, but I just wanted to visit Bella’s grave. Make sure she had fresh flowers. I left Monday morning and got back last night.”
“Did you fly?”
“Yeah. And I hated every minute of it.”
Richard had a thing about flying. Kaely was surprised he’d stepped foot on a plane. “It’s only about a five-and-a-half-hour drive, you know.”
He nodded. “I know, but the old gray mare ain’t what she used to be.”
“Oh, Richard. You need to sell that car. It’s falling apart.”
“I know. I will . . . someday.”
Richard had held on to his old, dark green 1997 Ford Explorer because Bella had loved it. He’d spent so much money on repairs, he could have bought a brand new vehicle by now. He said he could still smell Bella’s perfume in the car.
Kaely reached over and put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, Richard.”
He smiled and patted her hand. “I know. I sure miss her.”
“I do too.”
“The flowers you sent were beautiful.”
Kaely sighed. “I’m sure by now they weren’t beautiful. It’s been about three months since I ordered them.” She tried to send flowers at least twice a year to decorate Bella’s grave.
“I could tell they were gorgeous when they were put out. Thank you for doing that.”
“I know you did.” He sighed and gazed out at the fountains. “I don’t think I told you that her sister Doreen passed away a few months ago.”
“Did I ever meet her?”
“No, I don’t believe so. She and Bella were very close though. After the funeral, Doreen’s daughter gave me a box of letters and cards that Bella and Doreen had sent to each other. She didn’t have time to go through them, but she hated to throw them away. She thought I might like them.”
“That’s nice.”
“Yes, it was. I feel as if I have a little more of Bella with me now.”
“I worry about you. I know you feel the need to watch over me, but I really want you to have your own life, Richard. Maybe you should go back to Des Moines. For good, I mean.”
“There’s nothing for me there, Kaely. But here . . . well, I feel like someone needs me. And I need to be needed.”
His sad smile touched Kaely’s heart. “How about coming over for supper one night next week?” she said. “I promise it will be warmer in my condo than it is here.”
Richard nodded. “Sounds great. I miss our evenings together.”
“I do too. Forgive me for not being a better friend.”
Richard shook his head. “If anyone understands how important your job is and how unpredictable your schedule is, it’s me. Don’t ever worry about that.” Richard took a drink of coffee and then set it down next to him. “So you had the dream again?” he said. “Did something happen that triggered it?”
Kaely took another bite of her fritter and chewed as she thought about what she should tell him. When she didn’t say anything, he reached over and picked up a copy of the morning paper that he had next to him and handed it to her. She unfolded it. The St. Louis Journal. Front page. The headline read FBI Profiler Targeted by a Potential Serial Killer.
Solomon was downing his first cup of coffee when Joyce walked into the kitchen after getting the newspaper from the front porch. Solomon liked to read a real newspaper, not get his news online. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d have a choice, but for now, he looked forward to his morning paper and coffee. He could tell by looking at Joyce’s face that something was wrong.
“What?” he asked, his stomach tightening with apprehension.
“Promise not to get upset.”
Solomon could see the fear in his wife’s eyes. His heart attack had put it there. With the kids gone, she was afraid he’d leave her too.
“I promise. Show me.” He could already guess what it was. Banner had published the story. God help them. Joyce slid the paper in front of him. When he read the headline, he cursed under his breath.
“Don’t swear in the house,” Joyce said softly.
“Sorry.” He picked up the paper and quickly scanned the article written by Jerry Acosta. Everything was there. The poem, how Acosta got it, that he’d taken the original to the FBI, and the murder in Forest Park, which he tied to the poem. He ended the article with “Now it’s up to the authorities to track down what may be the city’s first serial killer since Maury Travis. Will the daughter of a serial killer be the answer to catching him? Or will this be the last case for Special Agent Kaely Quinn?”
Solomon started to curse again but caught himself and clamped his lips into a tight thin line. He got up from the table, got his phone from the counter where it was charging, and called Kaely. Her phone rang several times before she picked up.
“Quinn,” she said.
“Where are you?” Solomon asked.
“In the park having breakfast with a friend. I’ve seen the paper.”
“I hoped he’d hold the story for a while longer, but obviously that was a pipe dream.”
There was a long pause. Then Kaely said, “We’d better prepare ourselves.”
“We’re just going to have to weather the storm. You and Noah stay on the case. I’ll handle the fallout.”
“You can always move me, Sol. Transfer me out.”
Solomon felt a sudden rush of emotion. It was a combination of the fondness he felt for Kaely and his fury toward the editor and reporter who had carelessly released a story that could destroy a career and lead to more deaths.
“You’re not going anywhere, Special Agent Quinn. Period.”
“Sir . . .”
“I won’t discuss it. I’ll get to the office as soon as I can. We’ll talk more.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kaely disconnected the call, and Solomon looked up to find Joyce watching him. “Are you sure keeping her here is the right thing to do?” she asked. “Is that the best thing for Kaely?”
He ran his index finger around the rim of his coffee cup. “The Bureau can’t keep pushing her around because it’s uncomfortable. Kaely isn’t responsible for her father’s sins. At some point, we have to dig our heels in and stand with our agent.” He gazed into his wife’s soft hazel eyes. “I won’t abandon her, Joyce. I just won’t.”
Joyce walked over to where Solomon sat and leaned down, kissing the top of his head. “You’re a good man, Sol. I wouldn’t expect you to turn your back on anyone.” She playfully ruffled his hair. “Just make sure you do what’s best for Kaely. Not for yourself.”
Solomon reached over and grabbed his wife’s hand. “I’ll be careful, but you keep an eye on me, okay? There’s no opinion I value more than yours.”
Joyce squeezed his hand and then went over to the stove. She used a spatula to remove eggs and bacon from two different skillets, placed the food on a plate, and took the plate to Solomon. “Eat this before you leave. I mean it.”
He looked down at the scrambled egg whites and turkey bacon his wife had made for him, trying to keep him healthy. Usually, he nibbled on them, moved them around the plate, and then threw them out when she wasn’t looking. But today he picked up his fork and ate every bite because he knew she needed him to.