Crossing to her desk, Caroline smiles at her coworker. “Gloria, this is Agent Kearney. She’s working on the case with those poor kids.”
Gloria arches a carefully drawn eyebrow. “Can you think of a case in this office that doesn’t include ‘those poor kids’?” At Caroline’s blush and stammer, she turns to Cass. “Are you able to tell us which case?”
Cass glances at me, and I shrug. The incidents have hit the news, even if the details and their connections have been withheld, and confidentiality aside, an office is an office; people gossip. “The Wilkins, Carter-Wong, Anders, and Jeffers murders.”
Both women look startled at the length of the list, and Caroline pales. Gloria moves up to pat her shoulder. “There was another one?” the older woman asks. At Cass’s nod, Gloria looks at me with narrowed eyes. “You’re Agent Ramirez, aren’t you? The one the children are taken to.”
Damn. “Yes,” I acknowledge, “but please don’t mention I was here. I’m not actually allowed to work the case, not when it involves me to such an extent. I’m just worried about the kids, so Agent Kearney allowed me to tag along.” I rummage up a sheepish smile. “Honestly, I was kind of hoping to run into Nancy, maybe get an update.”
“She’s doing visits all day today,” Caroline informs me. “But I can leave a message?”
“Oh, no, I don’t want to get her in trouble,” I say quickly. “I’m supposed to be hands off, but these kids . . .”
To my surprise, Gloria seems to thaw a bit at that. “We’ll let her know you called, unofficially. If there’s been a change, I’m sure she can find a way to let you know.”
“I’d appreciate that, thank you.”
She nods slowly, thoughtfully, like I’ve given her something new to consider.
“Agent Kearney!” A man hurries out from the admin hallway, holding a neon green Post-it in his hand. It nearly matches the polish on his fingernails. He’s a slender man of average height, with a soft voice. “When you get that warrant signed, this is my direct line,” he tells her in a faded Charleston accent. It’s the only city I know where rushed and clipped Southern is a thing that happens. “Give me a call and we’ll get right to work on that list for you.”
Cass murmurs a thank-you and tucks the note into her credentials. “Mr. Lee, this is Agent Mercedes Ramirez. Mercedes, this is Derrick Lee, the file administrator.”
He takes one of my hands in both of his. “Isn’t this all just awful? How are you holding up?”
At the moment, I’m a little distracted by his eyeliner game being fiercer than mine. How does he get the wings so even? “I’m okay for now, Mr. Lee, thank you. Just trying to find out how the kids are doing.”
“Nancy says they’re all being terribly brave.” He squeezes my hand and lets it go. “If you two need anything, and I mean just anything, please let us know. We all want those little angels safe, don’t we?”
“Thank you, Mr. Lee.”
Cass repeats her own thanks and a goodbye, and we head out to the car. “What’s on your brain, Mercedes?” she murmurs as we’re buckling in.
“When the warrant clears, see if the filing clerks are listed on the files they work the way the nurses and social workers are.”
“Which name should I look for?”
“Gloria Hess.”
“Any particular reason? If charming personalities were conclusive factors, after all, Eddison would have been jailed years ago.”
“Blonde wig and a port in her chest; she’s got cancer. You spend your life face-to-face with the best and worst the system has to offer, what’s a thing you want to do once you have nothing left to lose?”
Cass blinks.
“Also Derrick Lee,” I add. “We haven’t definitely ruled out that the killer could be male. Put a wig and loose clothes on Lee, he could easily be mistaken for a woman. So we should check him out as well.”
Cass stares at me for a moment, then lowers her forehead to the steering wheel and swears emphatically.
17
We speed to the hospital, because there’s really no telling how long Sterling and Eddison can stall Cass’s teammates. I mean, I have a healthy respect for their ability to bullshit and inconvenience—Sterling once managed to make a person of interest not only miss his flight, but willingly leave the airport to give her a ride back to the precinct, it was gorgeous—but Dru Simpkins keeps a pretty tight rein on her team. If she tells them to leave NOW, it won’t matter if they don’t have all the information.
Cass has only been on Dru’s team about a year and a half, and I give it another few months or one more bad case before she goes to Vic and asks to be moved to a different team. She approaches life and investigations more like we do.
Oh, God, Cass on our team.
Poor Eddison.
Mason, Emilia, and Sarah are all in the hospital for treatment, but they allowed Ashley and Sammy to stay with their sister rather than move them to a group home or foster family. We stop in with the Carter and Wong trio first. Sammy is fast asleep in Sarah’s lap, a stuffed tiger fisted in his hands. The teddy bears the killer gave the children have all been taken into evidence, but they gave them different plushies for comfort. I don’t see Ashley in the room.
Sarah flinches at first, when the door opens, but she smiles when she recognizes me. “Agent Ramirez.”
“You can call me Mercedes, Sarah. How are you doing?”
“We’re . . .” She hesitates, running her fingers through her brother’s dark hair. He squirms at the touch, then relaxes into it, drooling a little onto the tiger’s bright fabric. “We’re okay,” she finishes. “Okay for now.”
“Can I introduce you to someone?”
She looks curiously at Cass and nods. She’s met an endless succession of new people in the past nine days (God, has it really only been nine days?) so getting asked for permission must be a switch.
“This is Agent Cassondra Kearney—”
“Cass,” my friend interjects, with a cheery wave.
“—and she’s on the FBI team that’s officially partnered with the Manassas Police to find the woman who killed your mother and stepfather. She’s also an old friend of mine, and someone I trust.”
Cass blushes a little. We’ve been friends for ten years, and there’s a lot that’s implied by that level of friendship, but I don’t think I’ve ever stated it so explicitly. I’m not sure there’s ever been a reason to.
Sarah gives her a shy smile, but it quickly drops into a frown. “So . . . you’re not on our case anymore?”
“Technically, I never was. I can’t be.”
“Because it’s your house?”
“Right in one. Cass is part of a team, and I think you’re going to meet a couple other members of the team this afternoon, but I wanted to check on you. After this, I might not be allowed.”
Sarah looks between me and Cass. “Those are strange rules.”
“They are,” I agree, “but they’re meant to protect you. Speaking of which, where’s Ashley?”
“A volunteer took her down to the cafeteria. They’re getting ice cream. I think they’re just getting her out of the room.” Her lip wobbles a bit, but she takes a sharp breath and squares her shoulders. “She really liked Samuel. He gave her things she wanted.”
“She’s angry.”
“Really angry. She keeps saying it’s my fault.” Her eyes are bright as she looks down at her brother. “Mercedes . . .”
“I’m right here, Sarah.” I sit next to her on the bed, one hand on her shoulder.
“Nancy doesn’t think we’re going to find a place for all three of us. I don’t . . . I don’t want them to split us up, but Ashley is so angry . . .”
I change the hand to a sideways hug, rocking her gently. “Sounds like Nancy is keeping you in the loop.”
She nods against my shoulder. “She says it’ll help me. Maybe I don’t get a say in what’s going on, but I at least know about it.”
“Have you talked to your grandparents?”
“Once. They’re . . . they’re really . . .”
“Racist?”
“Yeah.”