for the dead, give them the voice to help discover who they were, and in the case of homicide, who had killed them. The sketch of her Jane Doe was so clear in her mind. Maybe too clear, perhaps because of Tasha’s death…Anger surged through her about being kept in the dark over that, and she knew she needed to expunge it if she was to think with a clear head. Just breathe in the cold air. Calm. Right now she needed calm.
Calm and some damned answers, she thought, firing off two rounds, then deciding the other thirteen needed to go as well. She emptied the magazine, reloaded, then concentrated on her target, knowing it would do her more harm than good to let any anger get the best of her. The target swayed slightly as the other recruits shot, but Sydney stared ahead, raised her weapon, and cleared her mind. There was something meditative about outdoor range practice, focusing your gaze on the front sight and aligning it with the target. Evening out your breathing, then gently pulling, pulling, hearing the slightest of clicks before the gun went off. And if you did it right, you barely heard the report of your weapon, or any other weapon out there. Nothing but you, the target, and the slow, even pull of the trigger. Just breathe in the cold air. Calm.
But there was no calm for her. She had to know if Tasha’s death was related. And to do that, she thought as she walked to the cleaning station to begin the process of field stripping her weapon, she had to know who Jane Doe was, and then who killed her.
She was wiping the cleaning oil from each piece, reassembling it, when who should walk up but Mr. Federal himself, Special Agent Griffin. “We have a plane available to take you home.”
She glanced at him, deciding it would do little good to unleash her anger on him. “Not going home yet,” she said, holding out the barrel of her semiauto so she could look down inside, make sure there was no residue, before dropping it in place. “My ex is picking me up. But feel free to take the plane yourself. You could use a vacation.”
“Your ex can’t make it.”
She looked at him. Saw he was serious. “And why not?”
“Bank robbery. Suspects are holed up in the surrounding area, may have hostages.”
She decided that he was telling the truth, dismissed the absurd thought he’d set up the robbery as part of some plot to get her on that plane. “Guess I’ll catch a ride into the capital and wait for him to get off. Sometimes you have to go the extra mile for a chance at true love.”
“And sometimes love is really, really blind.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’ve met your ex. He’s not your type.”
She laughed. Not kindly, either. “And how would you know?”
“Your plane is waiting.”
“To hell with the plane. I’m not getting on it.”
“That your target?” He nodded at the bull’s-eye on the table next to her. Every round but one was in the Ten X.
“What’s it to you?”
“I beat you, you get on the plane.”
She said nothing, merely finished the reassembly. “And if I beat you?” she asked, pointing her weapon into the clearing barrel, slapping in a fully loaded magazine and pulling the slide back to load it.
“Then I’ll take you where you need to go.”
“Sorry. I don’t play games. But have fun.” She holstered her weapon, smiled, and walked off.
He followed her back to the main building’s reception area. She ignored him, until he said, “I’m driving past your place, if that’s where you’re headed.”
“Actually, I’m going to wait for Scotty at his place.”
“I’m driving past there, too.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
“I’ll bring the car to the front.” He walked off, and the only reason she didn’t stop him was that one could learn quite a bit when sequestered in a car together. Assuming she could get him to talk.
Ten minutes later, Sydney saw his gold Ford Crown Victoria pull up. She walked out into the bracing cold, carrying both her briefcase and overnight bag. A dark-haired man stood off at the distance, smoking, well away from the building per government regulations, his arms tucked close as though warding off the chill. He watched her walk over to the car until a group of young female recruits strolled past, giving him something better to look at apparently.
Zachary Griffin got out, walked around and opened the rear