CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The door to the precinct breakroom opened, and Jenkins stepped in, carrying a box of a dozen donuts. He smiled at the federal agents. “Maple bars and Boston creams as promised. Real Boston cream, not whatever crap they put in those D.C. donut shops.”
“Those dastardly D.C. donut shops,” Jessica quipped, shaking her head. “What are we gonna do about them?”
“I’ve got some ideas,” Jenkins said, pulling out a Boston cream for himself and lowering into one of the chairs.
Faith swore when once again, Michael didn’t answer his phone. She was about to say to Hell with it and rush from the room to take the next flight to Oklahoma when he sent a text. Have David. Will update soon. He’s all right.
She cried out with relief, nearly bursting into tears. Jenkins frowned. “Everything okay?”
Jessica, guessing at the reason for Faith’s relief, asked, “David’s all right? Michael found him?”
Faith nodded. Jessica pumped her fist and whooped. Faith wiped tears from her eyes and looked at the confused Jenkins. “My husband. A long story.”
“At least it’s good news,” Jenkins said. “God knows we need as much of that as we can get.” He nodded at Faith’s bandages. “How’s the arm?”
“Still attached.”
Faith wasn’t trying to be funny, but Jenkins laughed uproariously at that. Turk looked at him, then looked quizzically at Faith.
Faith reached over with her uninjured arm to scratch Turk behind the ears.
She understood Jenkins’ laughter. Everyone coped with stress differently.
Jenkins preferred humor, boisterousness, and real Boston creams. Judging by the softness around his midsection, those Boston creams would catch up to him eventually.
That was probably when he’d look in the mirror, decide he couldn’t do it anymore, and hang up his badge and gun.
When would Faith do the same?
Now, the voice in her head said. You don’t want to see anything like that anymore. It hits you differently. Jessica can handle it. She’s young, tough, and new. You’ve seen too much. You don’t have much skin left to flake off.
Yes, but would she stay gone this time? Would she stay retired, or would she get the itch again and use a request from the Director as justification for getting back out there?
“Doesn’t matter,” Jessica said. For a moment, Faith thought she had asked her question out loud, and Jessica was answering her, but then Jessica continued, “She clearly understood right from wrong. She was enacting vengeance. She shouldn’t be able to get off on some bullshit insanity claim.”
Faith realized they were talking about Jennifer Suleiman. Apparently, Jenkins had suggested she might plead insanity and avoid consequences for her actions.
“The problem is that she has a past,” Jenkins informed them. “We looked at her records. Princess actually was a service dog. She was an emotional support animal.”
“That’s not the same thing,” Faith said, responding before it occurred to her that the distinction was meaningless for the purposes of this conversation.
Jenkins didn’t seem offended. “Doesn’t matter. Jennifer had her because she had dissociative tendencies.”
“Dissociative tendencies?” Jessica scoffed. “What does that even mean?”
“Hell if I know. Point is, a psychologist was worried enough that she prescribed an emotional support animal because she was afraid Jennifer would break from reality without something to focus on that needed her and loved her. Since these murders all stem from the loss of that animal, a good defense attorney is going to paint a picture of a timid, innocent young woman who lost her grip on reality after her dog was brutally killed by someone who—like the victims—selfishly stepped outside the rules.”
“And since one half of her really is timid, it could stick,” Jessica said.
“Maybe,” Jenkins replied. “A good prosecutor—and ours are very good—will point out that Jennifer had to show forethought and cunning with these killings. They’ll point out that she researched her targets and studied them.
She picked times when they would be alone, took steps to protect herself from their dogs in the case of Margaret Hayes and Robert Crawford, and concealed evidence.
” He shrugged. “Fifty-fifty what the judge is gonna go for. Not to be even more cynical, but a lot of it might come down to public opinion.”
“Well, I hope she gets first-degree,” Jessica said. “I feel bad for what happened to Princess, but she needs to be kept off the streets.”
She looked expectantly at Faith.
Faith sipped her coffee.
Jessica frowned, more with concern than frustration. “You all right, Faith?”
Faith didn’t really have an answer to that, but she didn’t want to get pulled into a conversation, so she said, “Yeah. I’m all right.”
“Whatever happens, she’ll end up off the streets,” Jenkins said. “She’ll get permanent care at a maximum-security mental health facility. I’ve been to those places. It’s pretty much jail with medicine to keep the inmates calm.”
Faith sipped more coffee to hide the grimace that came to her face. She didn’t think Jennifer was mentally ill enough to justify her murders. She’d interacted with people who were. Jennifer wasn’t well, but Faith didn’t think she deserved to get off scot free.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what might have been if she hadn’t lost Princess. Maybe she would have worked through her mental health issues. Maybe the violent side of her would never have had a chance to emerge the way it did. Maybe.
She hated that word. If she could summarize in one feeling why she was ready to leave fieldwork again, it would be that word.
Ironically, the desire for certainty was what had pushed her into this job in the first place.
She didn’t like hidden things. She didn’t like that snakes could slither through the tall grass and use darkness to hide their predatory nature.
Her job was to expose them, to make them clear and visible for everyone to see.
This is the murderer. This is what she looks like.
The problem was that even when she found the answers, they weren’t always clear. Was Jennifer Suleiman an irredeemable monster? Was she a sick woman who lost her way due to an unfortunate accident? Was she somewhere in between? Was there such a thing as in between?
Maybe. And maybe it was time to let other people agonize over that question and give Turk his last few good years of rest while she taught others how to brave the dark waters of violence and death.
“Faith? You still with us?”
Faith smiled at Jenkins. “Kind of all over the place, to be honest. Sorry, what were you asking?”
“No, I wasn’t asking anything. We just noticed you haven’t said anything in a while.”
Turk whined and placed his head on her lap.
She looked down at him. The white on his muzzle was spreading to his forehead and cheeks.
The steel gray on his back had completely overtaken the dark brown of his younger coat.
He was still strong, but there was a tiredness in his eyes she hadn’t seen before.
He had beaten age back for years longer than most other dogs, especially hardworking dogs like FBI K9s, but he was nearing the end of his race.
That made Faith’s decision easy. “I think I’m going to step back from fieldwork again.”
Jessica snapped forward, eyes wide. Jenkins nodded in understanding. Turk just looked at Faith with the same trust and love he’d always shown. Whatever decision she made, he would be at her side until the end.
“Seriously?” Jessica asked. “Why?”
The answer to that question was both simple and impossible to articulate. It was something Jessica would have to learn in her own way in her own time. For now, Faith gave her the only answer she could. “It’s time. Turk needs to rest, and so do I.”
“Well, Jesus, Faith. I mean… We’ve only been partners for a little over a year.”
“I know,” Faith said. “I didn’t think the end was going to come so quickly either. We’re still friends, though.”
“Well yeah, duh, but…”
Faith saw the fear in Jessica’s eyes and gave her an encouraging smile.
“You’re ready. You’ve grown so much in just the past year.
You’re a very strong investigator and a very sharp-minded individual.
And you have passion. Hold onto that passion for as long as you can.
That’s what’s going to get you through the long nights and hard days. ”
Jenkins cleared his throat, a little uncomfortable at being the obvious third wheel.
“Well, you keep your passion, and I’ll keep my paperwork.
Be grateful you have other people to do most of that for you.
Newton PD makes its detectives put in work.
” He got to his feet. “Say goodbye before you take off, okay? And if you ever happen to be in the area, stop by for a donut.”
“We will,” Faith said. “Thank you.”
He left the room, and Jessica blinked back tears. “Wow. I guess this shouldn’t have blindsided me, but it kind of did.”
“Yeah,” Faith said. “Me too. Just kind of came out of nowhere.”
That wasn’t exactly true, of course. Now that Faith had aired the decision out loud, she could look back and realize that she’d had one foot pointed toward the door ever since agreeing to take that first case in Baltimore over a year ago.
Most of the killers she faced here weren’t monsters so much as they were unlucky people who reacted badly to their misfortune.
One of them was mentally handicapped from a brain injury and was now living the remainder of his days in one of those maximum-security mental health facilities Jenkins was talking about.
And the victims might not always have been wonderful people, but none of them deserved the ends they met. Seeing the torn bodies of Thomas Webb and Margaret Hayes was the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was time to move on.
Her phone rang. When she saw David’s number, she stopped breathing for a second. Her head actually swam as her brain shifted gears and recalled the one final mountain she had to climb.
She answered the phone. “David? Hello?”
Jessica’s eyes snapped open. She opened her mouth, probably to ask if he was okay, then closed it when she realized now wasn’t the time to interrupt.
“Hey.”
Faith’s throat constricted when she heard the rasp in David’s voice. “Hi, honey. Are you okay?”
“I’ll live,” David said. “I have the data. I’m going to send it to you. They have the dogs here. We need to move fast before they move again.”
“Where are you?” Faith said, getting to her feet and pacing.
Her heart thudded in her chest. The exhaustion she felt a moment ago was gone, replaced by anxiety. Turk reacted the same way, whining and trotting next to her, hopping up and trying to look at the phone as if hoping to see David on the screen.
“Oklahoma City Police Department headquarters. Took me a little bit to convince them to let me use their computer, but when Michael backed me up, they agreed. Thanks for sending him after me, by the way. It came in clutch.”
Tears rolled down Faith’s cheeks now. She bit back her sob and nodded. “Are you okay, sweetie? Really?”
“I’m all right. Really.”
Faith took another deep breath and squeezed her eyes. “Okay. I love you so much.”
“I love you too. Any chance you can convince Smythe to send a team out here? Oklahoma City PD is going to close the roads and keep vehicles from leaving, but we really should have the FBI lead this. Oh wait. I guess I can ask Michael to do that. Sorry, I’m a little out of it. I’ve had a rough night.”
“Are you hurt?” Faith asked.
“I’ll live,” he said again in a haunted voice she had never heard from him before. “I’m not hurt badly, just shaken up. They got Jayce, though.”
Faith closed her eyes, squeezing some of the tears out. She felt almost guilty for her relief that Jayce was gone and not her husband. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“Yeah. Me too. Are you at home?”
“No, I’m just wrapping up a case.”
“Oh. You’re working?”
That brought another surge of guilt. She didn’t want David to think she’d forgotten about him.
Yet another reason it was time for her to step away.
But not yet. The CIA had hurt her husband. They had killed his friend. All because they wanted the right to abuse dogs and didn’t like that David wanted to stop them.
Her jaw tightened. “I’ll meet you in Oklahoma City.”
“We will meet him,” Jessica corrected.
Faith gave her a quick smile, then said to David. “I’ll coordinate with Michael on the way. We’re going to stop these bastards.”
Turk barked firmly in agreement. David, still sounding weary to the bone, said, “Thank you, honey. I love you.”
“I love you too. I’ll see you soon.”
“See you soon.”
She hung up and smiled at Turk. “You ready boy? One last bad guy to stop.”
Turk barked again, wagging his tail. The weariness in his eyes faded, and for a moment, she saw the young, strong dog she’d met all those years ago.
They stopped by Jenkins office for a very abbreviated goodbye then jogged to their car.
Faith called Michael on the way and learned that he was already coordinating with the Oklahoma Field Office and had passed David’s data along to Director Smythe.
“The mad lad did it. Can’t believe it, but he did it. ”
“You can buy him a bottle of Scotch when we’re done.”
“Hell, I might buy him a case. This is going to be the biggest feather in the FBI’s cap since we busted John Gotti.”
Faith sped out of the parking lot just barely respecting Massachusetts traffic laws. Now that the finish line was in sight, she felt a rush of energy unmatched since her early days in the Bureau, back when she believed she was invincible and right and wrong were black and white.
One more job. Then it was time to go home.