CHAPTER ONE
Kate sat cross-legged on the living room carpet, her coffee growing cold on the side table as she watched her twenty-two-month-old son, Michael, toddle between his play kitchen and the fort Allen had constructed from throw pillows.
The morning sunlight streamed through their Richmond home's bay window, illuminating the cheerful chaos of toys scattered across the hardwood floor.
"Mama, cookie!" Michael announced. He tottered over and presented Kate with a bright yellow plastic disc from his pretend oven. His dark hair stuck up at odd angles despite her attempts to smooth it down after breakfast, and his pajamas were already decorated with remnants of his morning banana.
"Oh my," Kate said, accepting the offering with theatrical enthusiasm. "This looks absolutely delicious. Did you bake this yourself?"
Michael nodded solemnly and waddled over to Allen, who was sprawled on his stomach nearby, pretending to read a newspaper while keeping one eye on their son's culinary adventures.
"Daddy, pizza!" Michael declared, shoving a red plastic triangle toward Allen's face.
Allen set down his paper and examined the toy food with the seriousness of a restaurant critic. "Hmm, excellent cheese distribution. I can tell you used the finest plastic ingredients." He made exaggerated chewing motions and patted his stomach. "Compliments to the chef."
Kate laughed, marveling at how naturally Allen had settled into fatherhood.
When she'd discovered her unexpected pregnancy at fifty-six, she'd worried about everything from her energy levels to whether Allen would embrace such a dramatic change to their planned future.
Instead, he'd thrown himself into parenting with the same thoughtful dedication he brought to everything else in his life.
And for both of them to be playing with their son on the floor simply seemed like a dream.
"More!" Michael squealed, clapping his hands together. He spun around and returned to his kitchen, opening and closing the tiny refrigerator door with intense concentration. "Soup!" he announced, returning with a plastic bowl filled with various toy foods. "Hot soup!"
"Oh, we better be careful then," Kate said, blowing gently across the top of the bowl before pretending to take a sip. "Mmm, perfect temperature now. What kind of soup is this?"
"Um... monkey soup," Michael said, matter-of-factly.
Allen raised an eyebrow. "Monkey soup? That's quite exotic."
"And carrots," Michael added, as if this detail clarified everything.
Kate found herself thinking about their upcoming wedding, now just five weeks away. They'd planned a small ceremony downtown, with Melissa and Terry bringing Michelle. The guest list was intimate but meaningful, including a few close friends and Allen's brother visiting from Oregon.
The timing felt perfect. Michael would be just over two years old, old enough to participate in the ceremony but young enough to not overthink his place in it all. Kate had already purchased a tiny navy suit for him, complete with a clip-on bow tie that matched Allen's planned attire.
"I was thinking," Allen said, settling back against the couch, "maybe we should add a signature cocktail to the reception menu. Something simple but memorable."
"What did you have in mind?"
"Well, considering our unique circumstances, maybe something called 'Second Chances' or 'Late Bloomers.'"
Kate smiled. At nearly sixty, she'd never imagined she'd be planning a wedding and raising a toddler simultaneously, but the combination felt surprisingly natural.
Her previous marriage had been built on shared ambition and mutual respect, but this relationship with Allen was rooted in genuine partnership and unexpected joy.
"Bread!" Michael interrupted their conversation, presenting Allen with a plastic loaf. "Daddy, eat bread!"
"I don't know if I have room," Allen said, patting his stomach dramatically. "I'm still full from that excellent pizza."
Michael giggled and pushed the bread closer to Allen's mouth. "Eat bread!"
"Okay, okay, I'll try a little bite." Allen made elaborate chewing sounds and rolled his eyes back in exaggerated pleasure. "Incredible. The texture is perfect."
Kate's phone buzzed on the coffee table, displaying Director Duran's name. She glanced at Allen, who nodded toward the phone. “It’s Duran,” she said almost apologetically.
"Take it," he said. "Michael and I are busy running a restaurant anyway."
Kate answered on the third ring, smiling. "Good morning, Director."
"Kate, sorry to interrupt your morning, but I have something that might interest you. Are you available to review a case file?"
"Depends on the case," Kate said, watching Michael attempt to feed Allen a plastic apple. "What are we looking at?"
"We've got a suspicious death in suburban Richmond. Looks to be a fifty-four-year-old woman named Carol Bennett. Local police initially ruled it natural causes, but something's not sitting right with them. They reached out to us through unofficial channels and want to keep things quiet for now."
Kate's attention sharpened. "What makes it suspicious?"
"Honestly, I don't have many details yet. The requesting officer mentioned some inconsistencies in the scene, but nothing concrete enough to justify a full investigation without federal involvement. They're concerned about political implications if they pursue it locally."
"Political implications?"
"Again, I don’t have all of the details. Agent Demarco is currently speaking with local PD on the scene for those sorts of details."
Kate considered this. Cases involving potential political complications often required delicate handling.
Often, local investigators felt constrained in their approach because higher-ups—namely the bureau or even bodies even higher up the food chain—preferred to oversee things.
From time to time, it tended to create a rather ugly back-and-forth between local PD representatives and the bureau.
"What do you need from me?"
"Just a review of the scene, maybe see if you can find some pieces others have missed. I don't expect this to require significant time investment. And honestly, I’d be thrilled if you could prove that it doesn’t need the bureau’s presence at all.”
Kate considered it for a moment. It was a local case, and it focused on a suspicious death involving a woman around her own age. Also, she'd been a homebody for over a week, only leaving to visit the grocery store. This felt like something she should at least examine.
"Sure. Send me the address and I’ll meet DeMarco over there.”
“I’ll send it right now. Thanks, Agent Wise.”
Kate ended the call and found Allen watching her with the resigned expression she'd come to recognize over the past few months.
"Case?" he asked, just as she received the text from Duran with the address.
"Maybe. It’s a suspicious death here in Richmond. Duran wants me to review the scene, see if I can put any pieces together."
"How suspicious are we talking?" He wasn’t asking with skepticism but out of pure curiosity. At least, that’s how it sounded. She was listening carefully for any signs of irritation but heard none.
"Not sure yet,” Kate said. “Local police think there's something off about what appeared to be natural causes, but they're hesitant to investigate thoroughly because of political connections."
Michael had abandoned his restaurant duties and was now attempting to climb onto the couch between Kate and Allen, clutching his plastic bread.
"Up, up!" he demanded, and Allen lifted him into his lap.
"How long do you think this will take?" Allen asked, helping Michael settle comfortably.
Kate recognized the careful tone in his voice.
Three weeks ago, what was supposed to be a simple consultation on a missing person case had turned into a three-day investigation that kept her away from home much longer than anyone had anticipated.
Allen had been as understanding as possible, but clearly frustrated by the unpredictability.
"Duran said he doesn't expect it to require much time. Probably just a visit to the crime scene and maybe a few hours back at the field office with DeMarco after that. There’s just no way to know for sure until I get started.”
"And if it looks like more than that?"
"Then we'll reassess," Kate said. "But honestly, local cases are usually more straightforward. No travel, no extended time away. If there's something to investigate, I can probably handle most of it from here."
Allen nodded slowly, bouncing Michael gently on his knee. "Okay. But remember, we have the final cake tasting Tuesday evening, and the florist appointment Thursday afternoon."
"I'll be there for both," Kate promised. "This is probably nothing more than crossing some T's and dotting some I's for nervous local cops."
"Cake!" Michael announced, apparently having followed enough of their conversation to identify the relevant word.
"Not yet, buddy," Allen said. "But soon."
Kate leaned over and kissed Michael's forehead, then Allen's cheek. "I'll make it as quick as possible."
"What if you find something?"
"Then I'll find something," Kate said. "But I won't let it take over our lives. We've got a wedding to plan and a restaurant to support." She gestured toward Michael's play kitchen.
Allen smiled, though she could see the slight tension around his eyes. "Alright. Go solve mysteries and fight crime. Michael and I will hold down the fort."
"More soup!" Michael declared.
"See?" Allen said. "We'll be fine. And Kate?"
"Yeah?"
"Have fun. But not too much fun."
Kate laughed and stood up, already mentally preparing herself for the crime scene.
A suspicious death in her own backyard was certainly unusual, and the political complications added an interesting wrinkle.
But she felt confident in her ability to handle whatever the case might involve without disrupting the careful balance she'd finally achieved between her professional instincts and her personal priorities.
"I love you," she told Allen, then scooped Michael up for a quick hug. "And I love you too, little chef."
"Love you, Mama," Michael said, then squirmed to be put down so he could return to his important work.
As Kate headed upstairs to change, she felt the familiar stirring of professional curiosity.
A suspicious death, political complications, and local police looking for federal backup.
It had all the elements of an interesting case, and she was looking forward to seeing how quickly she could wrap it up.