epilogue

A YEAR LATER

The guest list kept growing, though all the intentions had been for a small wedding.

Small. Informal. Simple. That’s what both Robin and Ben wanted.

Even then, Robin had three attendants, including Mrs. Jeffers, who served as her matron of honor. Being a matron of honor had been on her list. Another goal crossed off.

Considering what her neighbor had lost with good humor, Robin figured it was the least she could do. Her sisters, after hearing the story, had readily agreed.

Ben had only Mahoney as his best man. Carl Andrews, the former agent from Savannah, was among the invitees, though, and he sat with Dani Taylor, soon to be Mrs. Andrews. She had finished rehab nine months earlier and had remained free of drugs since.

Robin and Dani had become friends. After finishing rehab, Dani had moved to Atlanta, and Robin had helped her find a job with a recovery non-profit organization she’d featured in an article. Then Carl had started making frequent trips to Atlanta, and occasionally the four would go out to dinner together or have dinner at Robin’s cottage.

“Ben doesn’t give up on people,” Mahoney had said the night she was shot. Robin had realized in the past months that her quiet, intense, introverted FBI agent had a heart far bigger than he admitted.

It had taken nearly a year for him to propose, partly because he’d been so busy with the case. But he also insisted that she be sure of her feelings, that she wasn’t feeling gratitude or simply the remnants of the intense adrenaline they’d shared. He still felt that the failure of his first marriage was his fault. “You have to know me,” he said. “I … I have a hard time sharing feelings. It destroyed my first marriage. I want you to be sure.”

But he was wrong. He didn’t have a hard time sharing, not once the barriers were broken. He protected. He gave. Not in superficial ways, but in the gut-deep meaningful ways. She’d known that in the beginning, and the next months only made her more sure. He was a caring man who’d created a hard shell to protect himself, and she saw more and more cracks as he helped Dani get a life back and helped Mrs. Jeffers build a new house and Michael Caldwell start again.

As for the Hydra case, they had been allies and opponents, she always wanting to know more than he could give her. She’d watched as one arrest had led to others. Lou Belize had been killed in the shoot-out at the safe house, but one of his companions—to avoid a death sentence—had confessed, and the walls started crumbling.

Hydra had been moving a shipment of cocaine from a private plane owned by James Kelley to a van for distribution among smaller dealers in Altanta when the Meredith County officers accidently stumbled on them.

Unfortunately, one recognized Belize, who was a suspected, but never convicted, drug dealer, along with Meredith Chief Deputy Sheriff Paul Joyner. The sheriff, apparently, had not been involved with Hydra but was convicted of taking bribes over the past twenty years. He had initiated—or continued—the systematic corruption that Hydra had exploited.

Those arrests led to others. James Kelley, largely due to Michael Caldwell’s testimony, was recently convicted of numerous accounts of criminal conspiracy, tax evasion, and money laundering, and sentenced to forty years in prison. He turned on Joseph Ames to keep from spending his entire life in prison. Ames killed himself minutes before police arrived to arrest him.

Several Meredith County deputies were arrested as accomplices to a criminal conspiracy, and Sandy testified as to what he heard. He wouldn’t be a coward again, he’d told her. He would always live with the regret he hadn’t done more.

Because of his assistance in the case, Michael Caldwell received only a one-year sentence in a minimum security camp. He would leave this weekend. Carl had been in need of an accountant and, at Ben’s suggestion, offered Michael a job in Savannah. A former crook to catch crooks.

As for herself, she’d won a year’s worth of stories. A new headline every day. She’d won several regional awards for investigative reporting, and the paper had nominated her for a Pulitzer Prize.

Once that had been her dream. It still was a goal. But her dream now was a partner. A husband. A good and brave man to whom honor wasn’t a word but a way of life.

“Time to go,” Star said.

She stepped out. Mrs. Jeffers started down the aisle, her legs a bit creaky but her head high and a huge smile on her lips. Robin’s sisters followed, then she took slow steps to the strains of “Beloved.”

Ben looked grave. His eyes smiled, though, then his lips as she approached. Her heart swelled with love as he held his hand out to her and drew her close, to hell with the rehearsal instructions.

He leaned down. “I love you,” he whispered.

Her hand tightened around his. Those whispered words—the smile in his eyes was the greatest award she could ever receive.

“Always,” she whispered back before turning to the minister.