“Shall we get home?” he asks, focusing on Ryley and EJ. I can’t imagine how he feels about everything. I know he and Evan were, and maybe still are, close. He was there for Evan and Nate when their dad died, and once Ryley followed Evan to Coronado, Jensen and Carole did, too. But now that they’re back living in Washington, I can’t imagine how lonely he must feel. Even though he hasn’t lost his family, I’m sure it feels like it when you can’t drive over and see them on a Sunday afternoon.
Jensen piles our luggage onto a cart with the assistance of EJ, while I stand here looking like fucking scum for not helping. It’d be nice to have some semblance of an identity by the time I leave. It’d be nice to belong again.
As Cara said, there’s a black town car waiting for us. It’s not Federal or military issued so she must’ve rented it for us. It’s something I’ll have to pay her back for, when I can.
We both climb in the backseat and take off, driving faster than normal, but living up to the pretenses that everyone has about the Feds. It’s funny and I find myself laughing at the absurdity of this whole situation.
I’m a decorated member of the United States Navy and because they won’t acknowledge that they made a mistake, Rask and myself have to live like illegal aliens. Worse really for me since Rask lives on base—at least they’re acknowledging his existence, even if he can’t do anything. I’m just a blimp on their radar and they’re just waiting to take me out.
“Do you think they’ll kill me before I uncover the truth?”
“What’s the truth?” Cara asks as she uncuffs me.
“I don’t know.” Shrugging, I direct my gaze out the window. The familiar scenery lulls me into a false sense of security. This place has the answers, but I don’t want to be here, not without my family.
“The truth is out there, we just have to find it. Someone has the answers we’re looking for.”
“Probably Lawson,” Cara says.
“He’s going to die.”
Cara sighs and crosses her legs. “You can’t talk like that if you want me to take you to see him.”
Closing my eyes, I lean my head against the window. The sun feels good as its warmth radiates through.
“The other day you told me about Penny filing a police report. I want to go interview the officer who took it.”
When I look over at Cara, she’s on her phone—always working.
“He’s dead,” I reply coldly, and meet her gaze so she knows I’m not giving her the run around.
“How?”
“Massive heart attack.”
“Well shit,” Cara mumbles.
“Yup, my thoughts exactly. I thought maybe he gave Penny some direction on what to do, or gave her a number to call.”
When we pull into the Clarke’s, Cara and I immediately get into Nate’s car. Carole arranged for it to be picked up from base so Cara could drive it since technically she’s off duty.
Our first stop is my old house. Cara wants to look around; I really want to stay in the car, except I can’t.
“Here, you need this.” She hands me a badge, which has the name Duke Riggs on it. “It’ll be easier to get information.”
“Makes sense.” We both get out of the car and I find that I have to give myself a little pep as I walk up the steps. It may not be my name, but for right now it gives me an identity. Now I can’t screw up and give her the wrong name.
“Can I help you?” the small-framed woman asks us. She doesn’t look familiar and I don’t believe she’s the same woman who lived here six months ago.
Cara flashes her badge and the woman’s eyes go wide.
“I’m SA Hughes and this is SA Riggs. We’re with the FBI,” she says as the woman’s face pales. I guess I’d be shitting bricks if the FBI came knocking on my door, too.
“Ma’am, we have reason to believe that a crime took place in this house approximately six years ago. How long have you lived here?”
“Um …” She stalls before shrugging.
“You’re not sure how long you’ve lived here?”
She drops her head, giving it a slight shake. When she glances at us, fear is written all over her face.
“Am I in trouble?”
“Is there a reason for you to be?” Cara returns the question.
“Shit. Look, I’m not supposed to be here, okay? I met him at bar and his wife is out of town. Fuck,” she says as things start turning frantic.
“I see. Well, why don’t you go on home?”
She nods. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” She grabs her purse and bolts down the stairs without shutting the door. We wait until she’s down the street before stepping in.
“Well that was easy.” Cara pulls on some gloves, then hands me a matching pair. “Put these on before you touch anything. I don’t have to tell you how important it is that you put everything back in its place.”
“I know this is my house, but what am I looking for?”
Cara lifts the corner of a painting off the wall. “Anything that looks familiar, and also in places where you hid shit.”
I take off up the stairs, pulling my gloves on as I do. I had various hiding spots throughout the house for many things: money, guns, and passports. My job was dangerous, and the last thing I wanted was for people to show up at my front door and find anything untoward.