Unsolved (Invisible #2) - James Patterson Page 0,126

a workable format. That, we’ll keep. Only Rabbit and I will ever know that there is a single license plate missing from that data.

I press Delete and watch all evidence of Rabbit’s crimes disappear from our records. The Citizen David investigation will remain unsolved.

That’s okay. Rabbit made it clear in her last Citizen David posts on social media that there would be no more bombings. David’s already dying down as a story in our short-attention-span, all-news-all-the-time world. And the Bureau certainly has plenty of other things to work on. Sooner or later, Citizen David will be a distant memory, the answer to a trivia question.

I look around our little area, usually bustling, sarcastic zingers flying back and forth, nervous energy as we hunt for tiny gems buried within reams of data. It’s quiet now, with Pully taking off the rest of the day after the funeral and Rabbit gone forever. I’m going to miss what we had.

I hope Pully will be okay. He’s a rock star in terms of talent, but both Rabbit and I filled some kind of maternal role for him. Losing both of his coworkers at once will not be easy for him.

By Rabbit’s cubicle, I pick up the photographs of Rabbit’s two sons. They both have her eyes, her nose, and that overall air of defiance. They held up well today at the funeral, choking back tears and speaking of all the things she taught them, all the values she instilled in them.

“I still can’t believe you’re gone,” I say to the air.

I put down the photos. It’s time for the second item on my to-do list today—my meeting with Dwight Ross and Elizabeth Ashland.

I say hello to Dwight’s secretary, Roberta, always with a wink and a smile, who should get a medal just for tolerating Dwight. Her grin slowly dissipates as she reads the expression on my face, but she doesn’t say anything.

Dwight and Elizabeth greet me warmly enough inside the office. Why shouldn’t they? They solved the Chicago bombing and nabbed a serial killer along the way. Dwight, of course, was front and center at the press conference, magnanimously calling it a “team effort.”

“It was a nice ceremony today,” says Elizabeth, still wearing her funeral black, immaculate as ever. She’s also been decent to me since we caught Tom Miller. Then again, she was decent to me before we caught him. Most of the time, at least.

Does she know that I know about her affair with Director Moriarty? She doesn’t give any indication that she does. But she wouldn’t. It’s not her style.

Dwight says, “So…you wanted to meet with us?”

“Yes, thanks.” I draw a breath, thinking it through one last time.

“What’s on your mind, Emmy?” Elizabeth asks.

It’s more of a who than a what. Rabbit is on my mind. All the great work she did here in the office and beyond, all the causes she fought for. And how she should be remembered.

“I’m the leak,” I say. “I’m the one who leaked information on Citizen David to Shaindy Eckstein at the Washington Post.”

130

ELIZABETH ASHLAND draws back, eyes narrowed. I was her prime suspect all along. It can’t be that much of a surprise to her. “You leaked the information to Shaindy Eckstein,” she says.

“I did.”

Dwight and Elizabeth look at each other.

She says, “You realize you’ve just confessed to a felony.”

I nod but don’t speak.

“You’ll lose your job. Probably go to prison.”

I am more than aware of that. I’ve thought about it for days now. But hearing it from her sparks a wave of heat through my chest.

“Have you…” Dwight shakes his head. “Have you talked to a lawyer about this?”

“No.”

“Have you talked to Books?”

“He has nothing to do with this,” I say, which is true. If I told Books about my intentions, he would have moved heaven and earth to stop me. He would’ve handcuffed me to my desk, slashed my tires, locked me in my apartment—anything to stop me.

“I don’t understand why,” says Elizabeth.

“Why did I do it?” I say. “It…doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“No,” she says. “I mean, why would you confess to something you didn’t do?”

Huh? I look at her, then at Dwight.

“Bonita Sexton was the leak,” says Dwight. “Shaindy Eckstein told us this morning. She was in here just a few hours ago.”

“I…” Shaindy Eckstein gave up her source? Reporters don’t do that.

“Apparently,” says Elizabeth, “Bonita was concerned that you’d be implicated as the leaker. So they made a deal that if you were ever charged with that crime or anything ever happened to Bonita, Shaindy could disclose Bonita as her source.” She shrugs. “And something happened to Bonita, obviously.”

“Bonita signed an affidavit,” says Dwight, handing me a piece of paper. It’s a photocopy of a document bearing Rabbit’s signature, dated two months ago. A sworn, notarized statement confessing that she was Shaindy Eckstein’s source. But nothing else. Not confessing to the Citizen David bombings. Just enough to make sure I’d never take the fall as the leaker.

It’s just like she told me when I confronted her. She wouldn’t have let me go down for the leak. If it came to it, she’d said, I’d have said it was me.

Oh, Rabbit. My eyes cloud with tears.

“It’s…noble of you to want to protect her memory,” says Elizabeth. “You should know, we have no intention of making any of this public. She’s gone now, killed in the line of duty, even if confronting a serial killer wasn’t exactly in her job description.”

“She saved my life,” I say.

“Exactly. There’s no point in tarnishing her reputation when we couldn’t punish her even if we wanted to.”

I drop my head with relief.

“I’m pretty sure I’ll never understand you, Dockery,” says Dwight. “Confessing to a felony you didn’t commit? Willing to go to prison to protect a friend? But you’re one hell of an analyst, and we never would have solved Chicago if it wasn’t for you. Don’t think we don’t know that.”

“Go get some rest,” says Elizabeth. “You’ve earned it. And then come back to work.”

131

BOOKS IS standing across the street by his car, waiting for me. His cell phone is pressed against his ear. The look on his face tells me he’s talking to Elizabeth Ashland. By the time I cross the street, he’s off the phone.

“Rabbit? Rabbit was the leak?” he says.

“Yeah,” I say.

“Why would she do that?”

I shrug. I can’t ever tell anyone, not even Books, that Rabbit was Citizen David. It would be unfair to ask him to keep that secret. “She was sympathetic to his cause, I guess.”

“You can be sympathetic to someone’s cause without leaking information to a reporter. There’s gotta be more to it.” Books shakes his head.

I touch his arm. “I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for her.”

His expression softens. “I know that.”

“So let it go. Whatever happened, happened. The why doesn’t matter. Okay?”

He looks into my eyes. “If you say so, ma’am.”

“Besides,” I say, “we have another mystery on our hands, remember?”

A gentle smile finally appears. He turns and takes me in his arms. “The mystery of Emmy and Books,” he says.

“Talk about unsolved,” I say.

We look across the street at the Hoover Building as the wind kicks up. Then we jump into his car and drive off, unsure of our destination.

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