Chapter Two
Thirteen years later
New York, New York
My feet beat the pavement as I fought to pick up speed. It was hard to run with one hand holding a cell phone, but I needed to talk down the store clerk before the opportunity was lost.
“You got this, Zahid. I get your frustration, but please do this for me.” I nearly took out a kid who stepped out of a barbershop. His angry shout followed me as I ran. “What’s she doing?” I gasped.
He sighed. “She’s currently stuffing a week’s worth of food in her book bag.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll square up with you.”
“I know you will. That’s not where my frustration lies, Bree.” I whirled around the corner and stopped just outside his food mart. “It’s just these kids. They’re getting out of control, and I’ve my own kids to feed—”
“I understand.” I bent at the waist and took a couple of deep breaths to right my head. “And that’s what I’m trying to fix.”
“I know.” He cleared his throat. “Can I help you?” His voice changed, and I knew exactly what was happening.
One of the girls was distracting him so the other could run out.
I hung up and raced down the alleyway between the store and the next building and arrived just in time to see the young girl dip out the back door.
“Justine, wait!” I called out her name, and it only made her run faster.
“Shit!” Already tired from my run, I headed back to the main road and took a shortcut.
Luckily, I knew the area, and soon she’d be faced with only one direction to go.
“Stop!” I yelled at a man as he pulled a rug from his car, and he froze but gave me the finger as I raced by him.
The sidewalk was so crowded. I hated New York sometimes; it was so busy and loud, and it made my job a hell of a lot harder than it needed to be.
I came to a stop and glanced around the corner.
I saw the girl’s reflection in a window, but she spotted me at the same time and skidded to a stop on the sidewalk.
She lost her footing, and it gained me a few seconds on her.
She jumped up and headed back where she came from, only this time she tossed her book bag and tried to spider monkey her way up a fire escape.
It gave me the chance to grab her leg and pull her to the ground.
She hit hard and yelped as the air was smacked from her lungs.
“Christ, kid!” I leaned over and heaved in a deep breath. “You’re fast.”
“Just arrest me already!” she cried, and it was evident that street life had already rubbed off on her.
“Arrest you? I’m not a cop, for Christ’s sake.” I held out a hand, and she looked at me funny but pulled back. “I was hired by your dad and stepmom.”
“What?” Her eyes softened a little with surprise, then she looked at my hand and, to my delight, took it. I pulled her to her feet and snagged her book bag off the ground. “You sure you’re not a cop?” Mistrust was written all over her face.
I grinned and lifted my sweater. “Look, no badge, no gun, no handcuffs. Much like you, I don’t do well with rules.” I heard her stomach complain. “If you hear me out, I’ll feed you.”
“Yeah?” Her eyes lit up.
“Yeah”—I pointed toward the road—“but if you run, no food and I keep your book bag.” I slipped it over my shoulder and started to walk.
“Deal.” She slowly walked behind me.
Two hours later, I had convinced Justine to let me call her father, and they were soon reunited.
Her dad gave me a bag to put the stolen food in, and I gave him his daughter’s book bag as promised.
It wouldn’t be a quick fix, but at least he could see she was all right and hadn’t been trafficked somewhere.
The city was a cruel place for a young girl alone.
Especially one without any direction or guidance.
I was glad to turn her over to his care.
Now, it was up to the two of them to figure shit out.
“As promised.” I set the bag on Zahid’s counter, and he looked relieved. “Check it. If anything’s missing, I’ll square up.”
“Thanks, Bree.” He pulled out the bags of chips, canned soups, and whatever else she’d been able to grab in two minutes.
“It looks to be all here.” He eyed me. “You’re a good person, you know that?
” His eyes softened. “Someone’s”—he pointed to the sky—“watching over you. He knows you do good things.”
I pulled out a stick of gum. “Someone’s watching over me, Zahid, but it sure as hell ain’t that guy.” I smiled at him before heading back out to the street.
“Wait, Bree, your camera.” He held up my beloved Canon, and I swiveled on my heel to retrieve it.
That old camera had been by my side since Quantico.
I missed the days of working toward becoming an FBI agent, and it turned out I was really good at it.
I’d taken a class about how the human eye couldn’t catch as much as a photo could.
I didn’t necessarily agree, because I felt the human eye caught all the things, it’s just that the brain didn’t necessarily hold up its end in remembering it all.
Pictures taken at a crime scene often revealed clues that changed the direction of a case.
I’d discovered that I loved to capture stills in a given moment to enjoy later when I had the time. A simple flower, the face of a loved one. I captured everything I could, and it had served me well over the years.
“Thanks.” I waved and stepped outside with my camera in hand.
I swiveled as some loud taps on a window drew my attention. I’d been deep in thought as I walked down the street. It was Dale, my ex, waving at me to join him inside the coffee shop. I forced a nod and headed to join him.
Dale stood as I approached his table. He towered over me and leaned in for a hug. It was awkward, as we hadn’t seen each other for a while. We sat down across from one another.
“You look good.” He shook his head after he said it like he wished he hadn’t. “I saw you running by earlier and figured you were working one of your cases. Runaway kid?”
“Yeah. Another happy ending.” I loved my job, and I knew he could tell. He always said my eyes lit up whenever I talked about it. There was nothing better than reuniting a parent with their child.
“Remember when you told me about that boy you were tracking down and how he slipped up by buying a pack of cigarettes at a gas station? Little did he know he was also up against an FBI agent.”
“I was never a full agent,” I reminded him and felt that stab to the gut that always came with this conversation. If only things hadn’t taken the turn they had at Quantico. If only he’d left me alone.
“You could’ve been. Hell, you still can be. You just can’t up and leave without warning, that’s all.”
I looked away. Did he think that was what I’d wanted?
I’d worked damn hard to get into Quantico, and he knew that.
It was where I’d wanted to be. I’d had no choice.
When I found all four of my tires flattened that day in the parking garage, I knew the Barbed Wire Killer was still out there—watching me.
Dale leaned over and put his hand over mine. “Whenever you get that far-off look and your jaw locks in place, you seem so lost. Let me in. Bree, please, it’s hard looking in from the outside at the woman you love. I’ve tried to be patient with you over this past year. I hate us being apart.”
I stared down at the jagged marks that ran along his wrist, then pulled my hand away.
“I’m not what you need, Dale. I’ve got too much going on inside, and it’s not fair for you to be kept on the outside.
” I pulled out my vibrating phone from my pocket.
“I have to take this. I have to go. Goodbye, Dale.” I hurried toward the door and took a breath as I hit the street.
He deserved more, and the faster he accepted that, the better we’d both be.
“Jaminson,” I answered as I walked back in the direction of my old Chevy truck. Having a truck to use in the city was one of the perks of the job that I really appreciated. It allowed me to head off in any direction when parents got a lead on where their child might be.
“Hey, Bree, it’s Robert.” His voice made me sharpen my focus as I wondered why my childhood friend, now the Sheffield police captain, was calling me.
“Hey, Captain, how are ya?” I held up a hand as I jaywalked through the slow-moving traffic.
“Truth, I need your help.”
“Gimme a sec.” I pulled out my keys and raced down to the parking garage, hoping my reception wouldn’t fail. I hopped inside and started the engine.
“You’ve got my attention.” I used my teeth to pull the cap off a pen and got out my notebook, ready to take notes.
He wasted no time. “It’s been a few years since we’ve had a murder in Sheffield, and this past month, we’ve had two.
” I spat the cap out and sat straighter.
“I’ve got people breathing down my neck who want answers, but my hands are tied.
” He paused. “I know you worked with Detective Monroe at the NYPD a few times as a consultant, and when I reached out to him, he said you have a real eye for detail and don’t cut any corners with research.
You’re one of the best PIs I know, and frankly, I could really use you here. ”
“You need me there?” I repeated as I glanced quickly at the number he’d used to contact me. “Is that why you’re not calling from the station? Why is it a different number?”
“Yeah, we’ll go with that.” He made a noise that told me there was a lot more to this whole thing than he was saying. “Our detectives are stretched thin, and . . .”
“And you need someone not bound by the law to dig?”
“I wouldn’t exactly say that.” He went silent for a moment.
“I need you, Bree. It’s no secret that you have a way with people, and like I’ve said before, if you ever decide to wear the badge, you just let me know.
Anyone in their right mind would hire you.
Look”—he sighed heavily—“I’ll make it worth your while.
I’ll bring you on as a consultant, and I would never ask you to relive what you—”