an analyst in my office than an active agent, and I’m considering a switch to being an Intelligence Research Specialist,” he said. “Not quite as glamorous, but safer. Once you have a family, you know.” He shrugged.
Lia couldn’t imagine Conall being content as a research specialist. All that energy, contained in an office. He seemed hardly able to stand the several hours at a time he’d had to work on his computer and had admitted to being bored with the lengthy surveillance on this assignment. She remembered, though, his hesitation when she’d asked if he enjoyed the rush of adrenaline. What was it he said?
I always have.
There’d been something strange in his voice, though, as if he wasn’t quite sure about what he was saying.
No, she thought bleakly, don’t kid yourself. He’d said exactly what he meant. I always have was unequivocal.
After dinner, he announced that he and the boys would clean the kitchen. Happy as always with anything their hero suggested, Walker and Brendan jumped up and began clearing the table. Lia lingered over coffee, chatting with Jeff for a few minutes, then went out to give the horses their evening grain.
Neither of the men had said anything, but they didn’t have to.
They would be leaving tomorrow. Driving away in that gray Suburban and not coming back.
Her grief was growing like a tumor pressing on essential organs. How had she ever been stupid enough to think she could get involved with Conall and keep it light enough not to grieve when he left?
What if Sorrel decided next week she was ready to go home? And the boys’ caseworker called to announce that she’d found a potential adoptive home for them?
Almost gasping at the pain, Lia somehow wasn’t surprised when Conall separated himself from the shadows on the front porch and stood waiting for her.
“I thought we should talk,” he said quietly.
“Yes.” She sat on the first step, and after a moment’s hesitation he came down, leaning against the hand rail instead of sitting. “Tell me what Brendan saw,” Lia said.
“No bodies, thank God.”
That shook her, even though she’d suspected. “Were there bodies?”
“One.” He sounded terse. “I shot and killed one of the men.”
“Oh.”
“Duncan shot the guy that was holding Brendan, but Bren saw Sean cuffing him and knows he isn’t dead.”
“Does he know—”
“That one of them died?” He shook his head. “He heard the gunfire, but I was evasive. I thought it was better that he didn’t know.”
“Oh, God.” Lia squeezed her eyes shut. “Imagine if he thought he was responsible.”
“I’ve imagined,” Conall said, an indefinable something in his voice. “Steer him away from newspapers and TV news for the next couple of weeks if you can. We’ve managed to keep the kids out of it for now. But you’ve got to be aware that there’s always the chance Brendan will have to testify when it comes to trial.”
“Oh, boy.”
“I think that’s unlikely, to be honest. Brendan was only the catalyst, although they’re being charged with kidnapping.”
“Did you find drugs?”
He shook his head. She could barely make out his face, since the porch light wasn’t on. “No. Illegal possession of weapons. A National Guard Armory worth of weapons.” He sounded grim. “Which opens a can of worms, of course. Where did they get the money to buy the weapons? The rumors had to be right. Sure as shooting—sorry, bad pun—someone in their organization is manufacturing meth, growing marijuana… Hell, who knows. Moving drugs one way or another.”
“Will it be your job to find out who and how?”
“Not sure yet. I’m hoping not. Chances are I’ll get absorbed in some operation back home long before anything active happens on this front. Or because of the weapons the ATF will take it over for now.”
The ATF? After a second, Lia translated: Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. Another arm of federal law enforcement.
Lia analyzed Conall’s tone. He sounded neutral. Almost…flat. As if he didn’t have strong feelings either way, or as if he was suppressing what he did feel. Did he want to pursue this one to the end and was disappointed about returning to Miami? Or was he glad to be done with this mess and everyone concerned?
“I see,” she said.
They sat in silence for seconds that crawled into a minute or more. Finally Conall asked how Brendan was, in her opinion.
“Okay, I think,” she said slowly. “He was pretty shaken up last night—well, this morning. But he didn’t have any nightmares that I know about. He’s on an adrenaline