“Thanks for bringing the car,” she told Donny.
“Not a problem. We explained to the rental branch in Scottsbluff, and they gave us an extra key.” He dug in his pocket and handed her the set. “The manager also adjusted your rate in the computer. Said they’ll only charge you for the weekend but you wouldn’t need to return it until late next week if need be.”
“Good deal. The State Patrol discount?”
“We do what we can.” He tipped his hat and finally allowed a smile. “One catch, I do need a ride back to North Platte. Figured you’d want to be there for the autopsies. That is unless you’re headed back to Denver.”
She hadn’t heard from Kunze, but then she hadn’t exactly been checking for messages. It’d be easier to simply hand this investigation over and leave. Donny and the State Patrol were more than capable. She could be in Denver before nightfall, check into the hotel, take a hot shower, order room service, and be rested and ready to teach her sessions tomorrow and Sunday. No one would question her decision. Skylar would probably welcome her absence.
She saw him glance in her direction. Earlier he’d helped her out from under the porch, but when she delivered the news, he’d stepped away, shaking his head as if it were somehow her fault.
She watched the Boshes, holding each other up, waiting while the rescue crew organized their efforts. Maggie was almost certain toxicology would show an overdose of some form of drug. There’d be no need to spend the county’s budget on another autopsy. Yes, Denver was starting to sound like a good idea. After the autopsies of the other two boys.
She asked Donny to drive her to North Platte.
“Maybe we can stop at the convenience store before we head out,” he said as they climbed into the Toyota.
“Yes, I could use a Diet Pepsi.”
“Your suitcase is in the trunk.”
“Thanks.”
“The store out by the highway has a nice, roomy bathroom.”
This time she turned and stared at him.
“Investigator Fergussen, are you saying I stink?”
She noticed the back of his neck flush.
“Just offering a suggestion.”
Of course it was in the convenience store’s “nice, roomy,” single-room bathroom shortly after Maggie had removed her dirty clothes—all of her clothes—that the call came in from Assistant Director Kunze. She thought about pressing Ignore and making him leave a voice message. She already knew what he would say. But instead, she checked the door’s lock and grabbed the cell phone.
“This is Maggie O’Dell.”
“Please tell me, Agent O’Dell, that you are either in Denver or on your way there.”
“I’ve had a bit of a delay.” She had given him the basics in her voice message.
“I’m sure the local authorities appreciate your efforts and are more than capable of taking over.”
“One of the surviving teenagers just committed suicide.”
She wasn’t sure why she blurted it out. Old habits were hard to break. It was something she would have done naturally with Cunningham. He would have responded with something brisk but profound. A reassurance that they were the good guys and that he knew she had done everything possible. He had been their boss, their leader, and he gave his agents hell when they deserved it but he also took care of them. She hadn’t realized how much she counted on him until he was gone.
She was thinking about this while waiting for Kunze to criticize, to lecture, to humiliate her. But he said something totally unexpected.
“How can I protect you if you constantly keep getting yourself into these messes?”
“Excuse me? What exactly do you think you’re protecting me from?”
Even as she said it, she examined herself in the bathroom mirror. Under the stark fluorescent lights the scar on her abdomen and the one on her side seemed to pucker up, betraying her. Dirt from underneath the Boshes’ house smudged her face. Remnants of cobwebs still tangled her hair. She had rubbed holes in her shirtsleeves and her elbows were caked with blood and dirt from crawling. Okay, perhaps at this moment she did look a bit frazzled, but she was not someone who needed protecting.
She realized Kunze was silent and wondered if she had lost the connection just as she heard him sigh.
“You have three sessions at the Denver law enforcement conference starting tomorrow.”
“Any seasoned police detective who’s gone through Quantico’s training could substitute for me.”
“But I didn’t send any police detective. I sent you. Please make sure those attendees are not sitting there without an instructor. I’ll see you on Monday, Agent O’Dell.”
“Actually I fly back on Monday.”
“I’ll see you on Tuesday morning, Agent O’Dell.”
She heard the click, and then silence. Typical Kunze, he ended his calls as abruptly as he began them.