Chapter 5
Five
Night had fully invaded the cemetery.
Ryan sat on the steps leading into the Pioneer Memorial Building.
He lit a Marlboro as he watched the paramedics loading the gurney into the wagon.
The Byrnes climbed in with their daughter, neither prepared to let their only child out of their sight again.
Probably wouldn’t until the kid was at least twenty-five.
The girl appeared a little dehydrated, but there were no visible physical injuries.
Her stats were good, but since she was unconscious she’d been put on a monitor to watch her blood pressure and oxygen level, then C-collared and back-boarded for transport.
Additional tests and close observation would give the full story.
Between the cops, the febbies, and the press, there was a regular circus going on around the cemetery entrance, complete with spotlights scattered about.
Forensics techs had arrived and were going through the steps in both mausoleums as best they could with their spotlights.
A second sweep would be conducted tomorrow to ensure nothing was missed.
Yellow tape decorated the two known locations where the unsub had been.
Holcomb and the other caretaker, Greene, were being questioned by Birmingham PD and Aldridge.
SAC Worth had arrived and taken over once the child was located.
Fine by Ryan. He had done what he’d come to do.
He was ready to get the hell out of here.
He refused to consider the significance of the tagged rat or his former superior’s name being listed there. That was the Bureau’s problem, not his.
He scanned the crowd for Grace. Located her off to the side of the media/cop cluster.
Judging by their body language, SAC Worth was reading her the riot act and she was taking it like a good little soldier.
Worth’s movements looked strangely disconnected with the backlighting barrage of blue lights and spotlights.
Annoyance furrowed Ryan’s brow, which reminded him a headache was brewing from lack of caffeine.
He couldn’t figure out the deal with Grace.
She had come to Key West all fired up to get him here.
His first impression had been that she was tough and determined.
But there was a hypersensitive spot when it came to her sexuality or men or both.
An ice princess, he’d thought. Considering the facts, her sensitivity to being female was not so surprising.
For the most part, the Bureau was still a major boys’ club.
Having that body and those lips likely hadn’t helped her in the respect department with her male peers.
Then there was Worth. He either had a thing for the lady or for some reason felt overprotective of her. Maybe because he disliked Ryan so much and didn’t want his newest agent being corrupted by him. Worth watched her like a hawk.
Too complicated.
Ryan took another drag from his smoke. He could do without complicated. Waking up every morning and getting through the day was problematic enough.
He’d found the kid. It was time to go.
“There you are.”
Ryan looked from the hot-pink boots to the smiling agent. “What’s up, Schaffer?”
“Everyone’s been a little busy.” She glanced over at where Worth was still chewing out Grace. “I just wanted to make sure someone mentioned what a good job you did here today.”
“Thanks, Schaffer.” He tried to work up the enthusiasm for a smile, but it didn’t happen.
She gave him a thumbs-up and headed back into the fray.
A good job. Yeah, right. One of the actors from CSI could have figured out this one.
The idea that there was something way, way off with this whole Devoted Fan scenario tugged at him. The clues for finding the kid had been a freaking joke. He’d expected someone to jump out of the bushes any second with a camera and the punch line from some new twisted reality show.
Fake . . . not real. That was how it felt, even now.
But the missing child had been real. The possibility of her being sealed off from life-giving oxygen and dying had been real.
If she had awakened and made sounds, someone might have been able to hear her if they happened to walk into the mausoleum.
But not with that door locked. And she’d been heavily sedated, so the risk to her life had definitely been valid.
Why kidnap a child from a wealthy family, secure her in a public place with all the risks to exposure involved, then give her back with scarcely a contest? Why no ransom? If playing the game got this guy off, why not make it more challenging? Draw it out?
Your Devoted Fan. Didn’t add up. Except for the rat with Quinn’s name on it.
If Ryan was smart, he’d forget the whole damned thing.
“You ready to make a run for it?”
He glanced up as Grace approached. Even in the meager light that reached this far, she looked as exhausted as he felt.
“Past ready.” He tamped out his cigarette on the step and stuffed the butt into his pocket as he stood up. “You have a plan?”
The circus act around the gate had barely parted to allow the ambulance passage.
Birmingham PD was having a hell of a time keeping the media behind the temporary barricade.
Going out that way was the express lane for making front-page news.
If anyone recognized him or if one of Grace’s colleagues leaked his participation, it would be three years ago all over again.
No, thanks.
Grace pushed a smile into place that he couldn’t say looked genuine, but the opportunity to watch those lips in action made him glad she did.
“There’s a car waiting for us on Seventeenth. We’re going over the wall behind the caretaker’s cottage.”
“Over the wall?”
“This way,” she said, heading into the darkness without further explanation.
Following her wouldn’t really be a chore, but he figured if he wanted that ride out of here, he’d better keep that comment to himself. So he fell into step with her without any more questions. She led the way across the dark cemetery, rarely bothering with the flashlight.
“Looks like you know your way around this place,” he said just to break the silence. He wasn’t big on conversation himself, but this was a little too quiet. He was used to all the noise on the beach outside his windows.
“I came here a lot as a kid,” she said as they passed the caretaker’s cottage. “I used to lie on the graves and pretend I was dead.” She went mute, as if she’d just realized that she had actually made the statement out loud.
“I guess that makes me a little strange,” she noted, her tone a degree or two chillier.
“No, Grace, that makes you a lot strange.” His lips twitched with a smile, something they didn’t do often. “But a lot of people are strange, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Ryan’s mind conjured the image of Grace as a child skipping around the bleak headstones. Certainly didn’t fit with the uptight federal agent she had grown into.
At Seventeenth Street, they made their way across the lowest point in the brick wall to a waiting taxi.
“The paparazzi won’t be expecting a member of the investigating team to load into a taxi,” she explained as he opened the door.
“Brilliant strategy,” he allowed, figuring it was her idea and that she felt in need of a pat on the back.
Grace hesitated before ducking into the back seat. “Worth wanted me to tell you how much the Bureau and the Byrnes appreciate what you did.”
Ryan waited until she’d gotten in and he’d scooted into the seat next to her before saying, “I’m sure Worth was ecstatic.” He understood that his presence was something the man in charge would have preferred to avoid.
“The Tutwiler,” Grace instructed the driver.
At Ryan’s look of confusion, she explained, “We’ll have you on a plane headed home tomorrow. Tonight you’re to relax and enjoy, compliments of the Byrnes and the Bureau.”
Getting on a plane tonight wasn’t exactly at the top of his list of things he couldn’t live without. But staying was somewhat out of his comfort zone. He had to wonder if the Bureau had a hidden agenda. He didn’t trust any of them, not even the pretty lady doing the babysitting.
She was way outside his comfort zone.
That knowledge didn’t stop him from going stupid. “As long as you’ll keep me company, that’ll work.”
The city lights filtering into the back seat allowed him to see that guard she wielded whenever he crossed into personal territory go into lockdown. She set him straight posthaste. “Dinner I can do.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Grace.” He let it go at that.
Probably the smartest move he had made all day . . . with the exception of finding the kid.
Vivian wasn’t sure dinner with McBride was a smart move.
Being alone with him was like feeling her way through a maze.
She never knew what would be around the next turn or when she was going to run into an impenetrable wall.
And just when she thought she knew how to avoid getting caught in his traps, she found herself already in one.
That unorthodox charm was getting under her skin, and that was a mistake.
Trusting this man in any capacity would be a major error in judgment.
The driver pulled beneath the canopy at the historic Tutwiler, and Vivian paid the fare.
An attendant opened the door and she emerged, glad to be away from the media frenzy at the cemetery.
Alyssa Byrne was safe, and that was all any good agent could ask for.
Vivian should be relieved and grateful. But she couldn’t quite reach that nirvana. Too many questions were nagging at her.
As she and McBride made their way to the entrance of the grand old hotel, she implemented a conscious effort to relax.
The man intrigued her even as he tripped her every internal alarm.
There wasn’t an agent in her graduating class who wouldn’t give her or his firstborn to have this chance to learn more about the legendary Hunter—no matter the circumstances that had brought them together.