Untold (Alex and Cassidy Book 5) Read online

  “Sandra,” Alex looked at her colleague. “If this is related; I need to know.”

  Sandra groaned. “Alex…”

  “It stays here.”

  Sandra glanced over at Claire.

  “You can trust Agent Brackett.”

  Sandra looked at Alex in disbelief. “Do you?” she whispered. Alex smiled. Sandra huffed in resignation. “Look, based on where they were found and the condition of the bones, I would guess they had to be out there at least eight years—at least, that long. Could be substantially longer. It’s not less than that. I feel confident about that much.”

  “Define substantially.”

  “I can’t. I suspect where you found them and how you found them might garner more clues than I can discern. Near as I can tell, they were placed there naked. And, Alex? There is nothing left from that scene. They sent dirt samples. I mean, nothing at all that they found in the lab; not even a thread. Still sifting, hoping to find some hair—anything.”

  Alex sighed heavily.

  “Look, let Daniel do his work. It might not have anything to do with the Peters’ case,” Sandra said.

  Alex nodded.

  “It does,” Claire’s voice echoed through the room.

  Alex turned to see Claire standing over the first victim, staring at her neck. “Brackett, why don’t you go see if you can get an ETA on Agent Lambert’s arrival?”

  Claire stood still.

  Alex moved a few paces to her side and put her hand on Claire’s shoulder. “Claire,” Alex called to her partner gently. Claire’s eyes closed. “Go make the call. I’ll wrap it here.”

  Silently, without any acknowledgment, Claire left the room. Alex sighed.

  “What was that about?” Sandra asked.

  “Long story.”

  “Alex, do you really trust Agent Brackett?” Sandra asked. She was not the only FBI agent that had heard tales of Agent Brackett’s past alliances. Agent Sandra Eaves had known Alex Toles for years. She trusted Alex.

  Alex looked at the door that Claire had just passed through. Did she trust Claire Brackett?

  “Alex?”

  Alex turned to her friend. “She’s family, Agent Eaves. That’s the best I can tell you.”

  Sandra smiled. Partners became family quickly. She nodded. “You think it’s the same perp,” she surmised.

  Alex shrugged. “I think anything is possible—anything. My job is to separate the possible from the plausible and find the truth.”

  “I wish I could give you more.”

  “You’ve given me plenty,” Alex assured her friend.

  “Be careful, Alex.”

  Alex turned and smiled, understanding that Agent Eaves’ warning was meant about more than the killer Alex was chasing. She nodded. Now, she had an additional concern—Claire’s emotional state. She sighed. Oh, Cass. I think I might need your help on this one.

  ***

  “Hello?”

  “Sorry to bother you.”

  “No bother,” the man answered his phone.

  “I know you are probably anxious to get home,” the voice on the other end of the phone replied.

  “What do you need?”

  “Seems there is an issue at Modicon. I can send someone else out, but…”

  “No, no. I can take the call. Do you know the issue?”

  “Sending you some information now. I’ve tested the system remotely. I’m not able to establish a video feed. No digital backup.”

  “I just need to wrap something up, and then I will be on my way,” the man promised.

  “Are you sure? We have a tech that’s about two hours out. I can reroute him.”

  “No, it’s fine. Send me what you have. I’ll take care of it.”

  “I’m sorry. I know you were heading home.”

  “Goes with the territory. Besides, it adds to my bonus.”

  The caller laughed. “Hope you get a big one this year.”

  The man smiled and looked in the back of his van. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” he said as he disconnected the call. He lifted his arms over his head and stretched. “Well, another detour,” he commented absently. He scratched his brow and shrugged. “Now, let’s see what road we should take…”

  ***

  “Hey,” Cassidy answered her phone.

  “Hi.”

  “Alex? Everything okay?”

  Alex had told Claire that she needed to check on things at home. Claire had agreed to step into a coffee shop and grab them both some fuel while Alex made her call.

  “Alex?”

  Alex sighed. “Yeah… Well, I don’t know. Cass, I was kind of hoping maybe Claire could stay tonight.”

  Cassidy sat down on the couch. “Uh-huh.”

  “I know. It’s a weird request.”

  “From you; yes. Why don’t I think this is about a late night?”

  “It’s not. In fact, I expect we’ll be there in about an hour and a half.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, I want to see Speed before he leaves with Jane.”

  “Alex, what is going on?”

  Alex glanced back toward the coffee shop and groaned. “I think maybe some things are triggering memories for Claire.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Cass…”

  “Alex, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what is going on.”

  “It looks like one of the women we found out there in the woods was strangled.”

  Cassidy closed her eyes. “Did Claire say something?”

  “No. She walked away.”

  “I’ll make tacos.”

  Alex chuckled. Tacos had long been Alex’s choice for comfort food. She suspected that would always be the case. Cassidy had prepared tacos for dinner the first day that Alex had arrived on Cassidy’s doorstep. Alex recalled that day often; more often than she had ever shared with her wife. Alex had been an FBI agent then too, assigned to investigate a series of threatening letters directed at Cassidy’s ex-husband and his family. She had walked through Cassidy O’Brien’s door expecting to be greeted by a snobbish woman of wealth and prestige. Instead, she met Cassidy, a down to earth school teacher who gently reprimanded her son, and delighted in the simplest things that life offers. In less than an instant, Alex Toles’ life had changed. Every time her senses were greeted by the smell of tacos in the kitchen, Alex was reminded of the day she had met Cassidy. It had been the first time in many years that Alex had felt any sense of being part of a family.

  “Alex? Are you still there?”

  “Yeah. Tacos would be great.”

  “Well, at least you and Dylan will be happy,” Cassidy laughed. “He’ll be glad that you are here to see him off,” she told Alex.

  “Me too.”

  “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “You will,” Alex promised, catching sight of Claire’s approach.

  “How’s the missus?” Claire stepped into the car and handed Alex her coffee.

  “She’s good. She asked if you might want to join us for taco night.”

  “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “Is there wine or do I get saddled with that diet crap you’re addicted to?”

  “There’s wine,” Alex said. “I think that’s how she survived the twins’ terrible twos.”

  “Good. Been a while since Cass and I had a few glasses.”

  Alex smirked.

  “What?”

  “Might be a while longer.”

  “Why?”

  Alex shrugged, but her smile broadened.

  “Aw, fuck. You knocked her up again?”

  “Classy, Brackett.”

  “Jesus, Toles. You’re the most fertile lesbian I know.”

  Alex looked over at Claire and burst out laughing.

  “What?” Claire asked.

  Alex kept chuckling. Bat shit crazy, Brackett—you are bat shit crazy.

  ***

  Why were they always so heavy? It seemed to him that the
y got heavier by the moment. Some people might think the weight had to do with his conscience. He laughed at the thought. Conscience? What was conscience? Right and wrong, black and white, up and down; did any of it really matter? Everyone was going out sooner or later. Someone would determine his fate; that much he knew. While he had time, he would determine the fate of others. Survival of the fittest, some called it. The hunter had the power over the gatherer. He laughed. His shoulder popped and he tossed the shovel in his hands aside for a moment.

  “It’ll do,” he looked at the ground beneath his feet.

  It wasn’t an ideal situation. It was a detour. Detours were a pain in the ass as far as he was concerned. Even the most unexpected opportunity required order. There were rules to be followed—his rules. He shook his head. Perhaps this would serve his purpose—this detour. He picked up the small patch of earth he had set aside and placed it in the ground, stomping its edges with his boot. He knelt and smelled the single wildflower that sprang from it. “Mary, Mary, quite contrary; how does your garden grow?” he tipped his head. “With cockle-shells and silver bells, and pretty maids all in a row.” He inhaled one final breath of the earth beneath him, stood upright, and closed his eyes. He grabbed the shovel, hopped to his feet and sighed. “Back to work,” he mused. “Don’t want to miss out on that bonus,” he laughed.

  ***

  Alex rolled her eyes as Mackenzie and her siblings scurried after Dylan and Maggie. The conversation at the dinner table had been animated. Mackenzie loved to hold court, and she had reveled in the attention everyone had directed her way over dinner. Alex had even caught Claire chuckling several times at Mackenzie’s antics.

  “Claire,” Cassidy called to the younger woman.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do me a favor and go liberate a bottle of wine from the bar in the rec room?”

  “I get a whole bottle?” Claire asked.

  Cassidy laughed. “I’m sure Jane will give you a run for your money.”

  Claire shrugged and headed off to complete her appointed task.

  “How do you do that?” Alex asked Cassidy.

  “How do I do what?”

  “Get her to follow directions.”

  Cassidy grinned. “Oh, I have a few secrets of my own.”

  “Ahh. This is about the sugar thing; isn’t it?”

  “Let’s just say that we all have our secret weapons.”

  Alex wrapped her arms around Cassidy’s waist. “Is that so?”

  “It is.”

  Alex leaned in and kissed Cassidy tenderly.

  “Oh, my God,” Claire said. “Seriously, Toles, seducing a pregnant woman?”

  Cassidy giggled and let her forehead fall onto Alex’s chest.

  “Sorry,” Alex whispered to Cassidy.

  Cassidy pulled back, smiled, and then winked at her wife.

  “Come on, Toles, seriously; watching you two is creepy.”

  Cassidy shook her head with amusement.

  “She’s worse than Kenzie,” Alex commented.

  “Well, she’ll certainly keep you on your toes,” Cassidy whispered. “Go on. Go see Dylan. I will entertain Agent Nosy.”

  “I’m not nosy,” Claire defended herself. “She just can’t keep a secret.”

  “Open the wine,” Cassidy raised her brow at Claire. Claire groaned but moved to follow Cassidy’s direction.

  “I’m going to find out that secret power, you know?” Alex kissed Cassidy’s cheek.

  “And, I’m going to hide all the sugar.”

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Alex challenged her wife. Cassidy shrugged. Alex groaned and headed out of the room. “Nah, she wouldn’t.”

  “Watch me!” Cassidy called out.

  Alex laughed. “Thank God none of the kids have inherited that superpower.”

  Cassidy chuckled. “She’s going to freak out when she realizes Mackenzie hears everything she grumbles.”

  “What?” Claire asked.

  “Never mind,” Cassidy told her. She poured herself a glass of lemonade and sat across from Claire.

  “Oh… I see what’s going on,” Claire said as she took a sip of her wine.

  “What’s that?” Cassidy asked.

  “Big Brother, or rather the big-time agent out there thinks I’m going to fall apart.”

  Cassidy smiled. “Alex is concerned about you.”

  “Right. Concerned I’ll fuck up.”

  “No,” Cassidy said flatly. “She’s concerned about you.”

  “That’d be a first.”

  Cassidy sighed heavily. Sometimes, Cassidy acted as everyone’s mother, and sometimes that role was exhausting. “Claire, why do you think Alex hates you?”

  “I don’t think she hates me. She does hate me. She tolerates me because of you and Eleana.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Yes, it is, Cass. You just don’t want to believe it.”

  “Claire, Alex doesn’t hate you.”

  Claire shook her head and sipped her wine.

  “She doesn’t completely trust you,” Cassidy admitted.

  “Yeah, well, can’t say I blame her there.”

  Cassidy grinned. “Want to talk about it?”

  Claire huffed. “About what?”

  “Whatever is bothering you. Claire?”

  “What?” Claire bit.

  Cassidy remained calm. She reached across the table and took Claire’s hand. “Claire.”

  Claire shook her head. Cassidy tightened her grip on Claire’s hand.

  “You know, as strange as it is—even to me, I love you,” Cassidy said. Claire looked at her. “I know it’s insane to everyone else. I feel like you and I were meant to be part of each other’s lives. Alex knows that. I trust you. She wants to trust you. You need to earn her trust. This is your chance to do that or at least, to start.” Claire wiggled in her chair. It reminded Cassidy of one of her children when she had to reprimand them. “Talk to me.”

  Claire shuddered. “You didn’t see her neck.”

  “You mean the woman you found?”

  Claire shook her head, took a large swig of wine, and closed her eyes. “No.”

  Cassidy’s heart plummeted in her chest. She took a deep breath. “Your mother.”

  Claire nodded. “I remember it.”

  Cassidy squeezed Claire’s hand in encouragement.

  “It wasn’t red. When I saw her on the floor? It wasn’t red. It was almost black. That’s how tightly he held her.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Fucking SOB. I hate him, Cassidy. I wish your father would’ve let me pull that trigger.”

  “No, you don’t,” Cassidy replied. She understood Claire’s reaction.

  William Brackett had been a sorry excuse for a father by Cassidy’s standards. He’d choked the life from Claire’s mother in front of his daughter, and then, he had spent his remaining years trying to convince Claire in every way he could that she had dreamt the entire scene. Admiral William Brackett’s attempts to coerce, to control, and to alter his daughter’s perceptions had all failed in the end. Claire’s life had become a manufactured lie, first propelled by her father’s actions, later by her own. All of it had been driven by one moment in a young girl’s life; the moment she had witnessed her father kill her mother.

  Cassidy had been the first to learn about Claire’s past. It was a lesson that she related to easily—the betrayal of a father. When Cassidy was ten, her father had been the victim of a car accident. That’s what Cassidy had always believed. That’s what Cassidy’s mother had been told. Cassidy had spent most of her life wondering about the father who had died in her youth. She’d missed him at the seminal moments in her life: graduation, marriage, the birth of her first two children. He had been her hero, and she his princess. He had turned her life upside down a second time when he reappeared more than twenty years after his supposed death.

  Cassidy’s life, much like Alex and Claire’s, was anything but ordinary. The three women were part of
a legacy; a legacy in which parents made casualties of their children. Sometimes it had been with the best of intentions. Sometimes it had been the result of recklessness and hubris. All their fathers had been embroiled in the espionage game. Cassidy and Claire had endured the brokenness that comes with childhood loss. That shared reality had formed a bond between the two women that Cassidy knew few would understand. And, it was the lessons of the past that gave Alex pause, both about Claire and her intentions and about rejoining the FBI.

  The demons of their fathers’ past actions had come back to haunt Claire and Cassidy in painful ways. For Claire, her father’s deception and manipulation led to an unthinkable face-off. Cassidy’s father, Jim McCollum had intervened before Claire had the opportunity to take her father’s life. The two men had once been close friends—kindred spirits. They differed in one major way—Jim McCollum sought to atone for the betrayal of his family; William Brackett maintained his actions were necessary. If William Brackett had hoped that the end justified the means, Jim McCollum had given him a drastic lesson to the contrary.

  “Claire,” Cassidy called for the younger woman’s attention. Claire looked up and met Cassidy’s compassionate gaze. “No, you don’t. For all my father’s monumental faults, he would not have let you carry that on your conscience if he could prevent it—none of us would, not even Alex.”

  Claire shook her head. “You give me too much credit.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “He took the one person who loved me.”

  “Claire, there are a lot of people who love you.” Claire’s doubtful gaze made Cassidy’s heart ache. When, she wondered, would Claire be able to accept that she was loved? When would she be able to let the past go, even just a little bit?

  “I can’t forgive him. I’m not like you.”

  Cassidy had forgiven her father. It had not been an easy road, and there were many days that Cassidy still struggled to keep her emotions in check when she recalled the past. There were moments when she would watch her father lift one of her children onto his lap and instead of gratefulness, she felt a pang of resentment. Forgiveness did not equate to forgetfulness. She loved her father. She couldn’t change that fact even if she wanted to, and there were days that she wished she could. She looked at Claire and offered the younger woman a gentle smile. Cassidy could easily see the little girl that hid behind Claire’s bravado. And, Cassidy understood what Claire needed most. She took a deep breath.