Agent X (2 page)

Daniels was making notes. “So it’s definitely over between you and Vail. You told him not to come for New Year’s Eve.”

“Not in so many words, but I think ‘We shouldn’t see each other again’ carries that assumption.”

“That’s helpful about Vail. It gives you one less reason to . . . you know.”

“Off myself.”

“Tell me what you remember about the night that this happened to you,” Daniels said.

She repeated what she’d told the director about the stranger’s buying her a drink that didn’t settle well with her, then her coming home and going to bed. Then waking up and trying to get out of the garage.

He asked, “You said he told you it was Drambuie?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm,” Daniels said more to himself than to her.

“What?”

“I’ve had Drambuie, and it has a definite strong sweetness to it.”

The OPR agent started making additional notes that she guessed were more than just about Kate’s response. As she watched him, she remembered her time in OPR, how investigations were not about the incident but about the employee’s involvement in it. They weren’t criminal investigators, they were personnel investigators. As Daniels looked up from his pad ready to ask the next question, she knew that he was not going to get to the bottom of this. If anyone was going to find out what had happened, it would have to be her. “If that guy did put something in the drink, maybe he had some other intentions, and when he saw I drank only one sip of it, he got scared and took off.”

“Your blood didn’t show any kind of drug in it, but if you didn’t drink much, maybe it dissipated before you got here.”

“Are you going to try to track him down?” she asked, trying to judge just how far he was going to pursue what had happened to her.

“I’ll have to see where everything takes me.”

Right,
she said to herself, becoming lost in thought. There was just something about a near-death experience that brought Vail to mind. And she couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. She knew that he would never just “see where everything takes me.” A small smile creased her lips.

“What is it, Kate?”

“Oh, no, nothing. Did you need anything else?”

“That’s enough for now.” Daniels stood up. “Take care.”

He closed the door, and after a moment her smile disappeared.

She was sure she was never going to see Vail again.

1

Kate Bannon opened her door. “What are you doing here?”

With mock surprise on his face, Steve Vail recoiled slightly at the level of protest in her voice. He stepped inside, setting down his suitcase and, for the briefest moment, allowed his eyes to trace the flawless symmetry of her face. “I’ve got the right day, don’t I? This is New Year’s Eve. Is it the wrong year?”

“After that last time, when I told you this wasn’t going to work, I assumed you understood that included tonight.”

He smiled crookedly. “Come on, Kate, it’s the twenty-first century. What woman wants to have to admit that she’s never been stalked? It’s become an accoutrement, like Italian shoes or one of those little purse-size dogs.”

“We tried, Steve. Three times. And the last two, if you remember, were not pretty.”

“That means statistically we’re due.”

Kate shook her head slowly. She really couldn’t believe he was standing there. “You know as well as I do that we’re a disaster. We’re too different. Or too much alike. I don’t know. Every time we try to get close, we wind up driving each other crazy. You don’t know how much I wanted it to work, but it can’t.”

Vail looked at her dress. “I guess you were planning to go to whatever this was tonight without me. Why don’t we go together and see what happens? What’s the worst that can happen? So I ruin your career. That would probably be the best thing that could happen to us.”

“I have to go to this. It’s a command performance. And you know exactly what it is—an ambassador’s reception. Why else would you have a suit on? Even though the proper dress is a tuxedo. Which I’m going to guess was your way of letting all the
phonies
in the room know that you’re a lowly bricklayer.”

“A man has to seek amusement wherever he can.”

“I’ll never understand you. You could be whatever you want. You have advanced degrees. The director has offered you complete autonomy if you’ll come back to the Bureau, but instead you choose physical labor just so you won’t have to take orders. If that’s who you are, fine, but you don’t get to rub everyone else’s face in it simply because they’re not like you.” She looked at him sternly. “It’s called hypocrisy.” She could see that her words had stung him, but she couldn’t find anything inaccurate in what she’d said.

He reached up and traced the small L-shaped scar high on her cheekbone and then smiled gently. “You don’t have to wonder anymore, Kate, whether we’re too much alike. There was a time, and not very long ago, that you would have thought they were phonies, too,” he said. “But you’re right, I’ve been a phony myself. The only defense I can offer is that you make my compass go haywire. The only reason I’m doing any of this is you.”

He turned and opened the door. “Like you said, we gave it a shot,” he said. “When it was right, it was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. That’s why I had to try one last time.”

“You can’t just walk out like that. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

“This
is the best way to leave it. Then we won’t have any lingering doubts.”

“At least let me drive you to the airport. It’s freezing out.”

“I live in Chicago, remember? This isn’t cold.”

“I’ll feel better about this if I can take you. It’ll give us a chance to talk a little more. Right now I feel like we’re supposed to hate each other.”

“It’ll be fine, Kate. I’ll get a taxi.”

“It’s New Year’s Eve—you’ll never find one.”

“You’re probably right.” He picked up his suitcase. “Okay, I’ll take a ride, but only if we don’t talk. I don’t want to say anything that’ll make this worse.”

For the briefest moment, she considered telling him about the night before Thanksgiving and asking him what he thought about the guy in the bar. The day she got home from the hospital, she’d gone into her garage to change the battery in the remote for the overhead door. But it had worked fine. She thought that maybe she’d just pushed the wrong part of it in her semiconscious state. But three days ago she’d realized that it had been over a month and she hadn’t heard anything from OPR. So she’d gone back into the garage and retraced the events from that night as best she could. That’s when she realized that she couldn’t have opened the inside door to her condominium if her keys were locked in the car.

Then she’d bought a bottle of Drambuie and tasted it. It had a honey-sweet taste to it, nothing like what she remembered from the bar.

The next day she’d checked with the Metropolitan Police, and they’d said they hadn’t had any recent drug-facilitated rapes reported. Since she was sneaking around behind OPR’s back, she didn’t want to start asking questions of people who were at the bar and have it get back to Daniels. Vail, who saw these things on a different level, would have been the perfect person to ask. But under the circumstances, giving him a reason to stay would be counterproductive.

“If that’s the way you want to leave this,” she said.

The phone rang. “You’d better get that,” he said. “The Bureau probably thought we actually had a date and needed to ruin it one last time.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“Probably not, but you can’t say it’s inaccurate.”

“This is exactly why it would never work between us. Not everyone who takes orders for a living is a mortal enemy of Steven Vail.”

Vail held up his hands in apology. “I told you I’d say something that would make it worse.”

As she walked to the phone, she decided to lighten the mood and try to initiate some sort of interim peace. “I know it’s been a while since the FBI fired you, but nobody gets called out on Thanksgiving, Christmas, or New Year’s Eve. It’s in our latest contract.” She picked up the receiver. “Kate Bannon. Oh, hi, Tim. Happy New Year.” She listened and after a few seconds turned her back to Vail.

He sat down on his suitcase and waited for the inevitable change of plans.

She hung up and said, “A seven-year-old boy was abducted in Reston, Virginia, which is two towns over from here.”

When she didn’t offer any other details, he said, “The FBI doesn’t have jurisdiction for twenty-four hours in an abduction. Why did they call you?”

“The Reston chief is a retired agent from the Washington Field Office. We go back a lot of years. He’s a good guy, but something like this, he’s probably in over his head. His entire career was working applicant cases, asking the same handful of questions about character and loyalty. Would you mind if we stopped there on the way? It shouldn’t take long. He just needs some reassurance—you know, what help the Bureau can give him. Maybe a little direction.”

In a cryptic tone, Vail said, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You wouldn’t miss what?” she asked suspiciously.

“You pretending not to get involved to prove to me, and yourself, that your career isn’t what’s come between us.”

“If you’re trying to ensure that there’ll be no talking on the way, congratulations.” She handed him her keys. “There’s one more call I have to make, would you mind warming up the car?”

Vail gave her an inquiring look and then started laughing. “No wonder you’re able to resist my charms. You have a date.”

“It’s not actually a—”

Vail held up his hands. “Kate, it’s fine. I was hoping you weren’t serious about it being over. That’s why I came. Obviously I was wrong. I’ll go start the car.”

Five minutes later Kate walked into the garage and climbed behind the wheel. As soon as they pulled out, Vail asked, “How long has the boy been gone?”

“So we
are
going to talk.”

“I’m just trying to establish the parameters of your
momentary
detour.”

“Why?”

“So I’ll be able to mark the exact second you violated the estimate of your involvement.”

“You really think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?”

“Not that it matters anymore, but oh yeah,” Vail answered.

She turned to him, wanting to look indignant but knowing she couldn’t pull it off. Then she told him, “Tim said about five hours.”

“You do understand that the chances of him being found alive are not good.”

“Then I guess you do understand that’s why I have to go.”

Vail stared straight ahead for a moment. “I do.”

Kate flashed her credentials at the police officer behind the glass, and he opened the door for her and Vail. They were led to a small conference room where more than a dozen police officers and detectives sat crowded around a conference table designed for half that number.

The chief, Tim Mallon, rose anxiously and shook hands with her. She introduced him to Vail. One of the officers got up so Kate could sit down and Vail backed up against the closest wall.

Mallon handed Kate a sheet of paper and a photo. “That’s the boy, Joey Walton, and the BOLO we put out along with the Amber Alert. He and his parents were at a local New Year’s Eve 5K run. It also had a half-mile race for the kids. The parents watched the start, and by the time they got to the finish line, he was gone. No one’s seen him since.”

Kate said, “Okay, Tim, what can the Bureau do for you?”

“I was hoping you could tell me. Obviously, we could use a profiler and anything else along those lines you can think of.”

“As soon as we’re done here, I’ll make some calls. I assume you’re looking into registered sex offenders in the area.”

The chief nodded at a detective sitting halfway around the table, who said, “I’m expecting a list any minute.”

“I guess that’s going to be the best lead for now.”

“What else?” Mallon asked.

“Put out a plea to the media, along with the boy’s photo.”

“That’s been done, Kate. And we have the parents doing interviews, trying to personalize the boy for whoever took him,” Mallon said. “Isn’t there anything else we can do?”

“Sometimes you just have to give the public some time to respond. There’s a chance somebody knows who did this.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to sit and wait. There must be something we can do to be more proactive. What would you do if it were a Bureau case?”

She hesitated a moment, glancing back at Vail. “Tim, I’m sorry. I’ve never worked kidnappings, but I can make some calls and see if we can get someone out here from the Washington Field Office.”

Mallon looked confused. “Kate, I spent twenty years at WFO. If I thought someone there had the answer, I wouldn’t have called you.” He looked around the men at the table, hoping someone would offer an idea of what to do next.

Kate said, “I misjudged what you needed, Tim.” Then she got up and, with an apologetic grin to him, handed Vail the photo and the BOLO. “How about it, Steve? Can you give them a hand?”

Somewhat surprised, the chief said, “I’m sorry, Steve, are you with the Bureau?”

“Actually, I’m a bricklayer. From Chicago.” He handed the items back to Kate. “In fact, I’m on my way back there now.”

Mallon shot a confused look at Kate. “Steve’s a former agent who has helped us in the past. Take my word, right now you want him in the room.”

“Sorry, Steve,” Mallon said. “You’re both dressed up. I thought you were just Kate’s date.”

Vail smiled disarmingly. “Funny how easy it is to make that assumption.”

Sensing some rift between the two of them, the chief said, “Steve, if you can help, we’d be grateful. This is a seven-year-old boy’s life we’re talking about.”

Vail pushed himself off the wall with obvious reluctance, his eyes locked onto Kate’s, purposely without emotion. “Sure.” Vail looked around the table. “Any of you ever work a child kidnapping by a stranger before?” One older uniformed officer raised his hand unconvincingly. Vail took a moment to consider something. “Chief, I’d recontact all the media outlets and have them put out a plea for help from anyone at the race. It being a kids’ run, a lot of people are going to be taking pictures with both their cameras and their cell phones. Ask everyone to immediately e-mail all their photos to the station. Every one of them, whether they think they’re connected or not.” Kate watched as Vail became silent, lost in some other thought. “I assume that race officials also took photos. Have them do the same, including those from the adult race. Have you gotten a list of runners from them?”

The chief pointed at one of the detectives, who said, “They’re supposed to be forwarding it.”

“You’ll want that right now. Also from the kids’ race,” Vail said. “That it’s a holiday and twice as hard for the police to get anything done may not be a coincidence. Whoever’s responsible for this may have learned by past mistakes. As in
convicted
child molester. Which, as Kate suggested, makes the sex-offenders list a top priority.”

“What else?” Mallon asked.

Vail stepped forward to better engage the men around the table. “I know everybody is trying to think positive, but after this amount of time, statistically, there’s only a slightly better-than-even chance that the boy is still alive. Not a pleasant thought, but you’re police officers—you’re paid to approach things from a clinical and, maybe more important, a cynical perspective. There’s also a fifty-percent chance the boy’s been sexually assaulted. And the longer this goes, the worse those odds become. So if cars are stopped or your instinct tells you to search someplace, don’t get it in your mind that you’re going to hear the victim pounding on doors or walls to be freed. Assume you’re looking for a body. And remember, in a situation like this—I’m sorry, Chief—it’s better to do something that’s wrong than it is to do nothing at all. If someone won’t allow you access, politely search anyway. Just remember: Be polite and explain the situation. Whoever took the boy is one of the few people who won’t cooperate in an instance like this.”