“Yes, thanks. And, Nancy, thank you for doing this.”
“No need to thank me, here she is.”
“Hi, Mom!”
“Hi, sweetie, how did school go today?”
“It was fun. We learned about butterflies, it was so cool.”
Kate cut a lonely figure in the corner of the restaurant. Listening to her daughter tell her about her day was a balm, briefly pulling her mind from Rampart, the death scene and the questions that troubled her.
* * *
The flight to La Guardia was delayed.
Kate waited in pre-boarding, too tired to think or do much else but look at her phone and older photos of herself with Vanessa when they were children. There they were, sisters, hugging at Christmas. There was Vanessa on the sofa, looking so small and smiling so big. Her new angel necklace glinted in the flash. Kate blinked at the memories before closing the images.
Later, as the jet finally lifted off, Kate contended with the aftershocks of self-reproach for messing up. Then she considered Brennan and his reluctance to escort her to the scene.
Why wouldn’t he do it?
Seasoned detectives she’d known would’ve had no trouble with her request, which indicated to her that Brennan was either a rookie or being overly cautious, or that something more was going on.
Well, there’s no way I’m letting this go.
When the plane leveled she shut her eyes for a few tranquil minutes.
* * *
When Kate got home, Grace was asleep in Nancy’s guest room, which smelled of lavender and loneliness.
“You can let her spend the night, if you like.”
“Thank you, Nancy, but we’ve imposed all day.”
Kate caressed Grace’s cheek, kissed her softly. She stirred and groaned, “Hi, Mommy...love you,” as Kate hefted her into her arms.
“Oh, you’re getting so heavy.”
Nancy got the door, carrying Grace’s backpack, and followed Kate back to their apartment. After Kate put Grace into bed, she returned to her living room and put five crumpled twenties into Nancy’s hand.
“What’re you doing, Kate? I can’t take money from you.”
“You’re always helping. Take it. Please.”
“Now, listen to me.” Nancy put the money into Kate’s hand, closed it and held her hands firmly around it. “Ever since my Burt died, I lost my way. We have no children, no family, well—you know. You and Grace arrived in my life like an answered prayer. I’m here to help you whenever you need it. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know.”
Kate found a depth of warmth and love in Nancy’s kind face that came as close to a mother figure as she’d ever known. Kate hugged the older woman, holding on for a moment.
“Thank you. I’d be lost, too, without you.”
“Okay, good night. Now you get some rest and let me know if I can help with anything.”
Kate took a hot shower and made a cup of raspberry tea, glad that she’d have another day off to recover. Still, something was niggling at her.
I’m forgetting something.
Before going to bed, she went through her unopened emails. Most were routine and could wait. Then she came to one from Reeka, sent only minutes before.
Be in the office tomorrow for an important meeting at 10 a.m.
New York City
Newslead’s world headquarters took up an entire floor near the top of a fifty-story office tower on Manhattan’s far West Side.
Kate waited alone in a corner meeting room. It offered sweeping views of midtown, the Empire State and Chrysler buildings, but Kate only saw trouble in front of her. Being summoned as she was after what had happened upstate was not a good sign, especially on a day off.
At least she had gotten Grace to school before coming in.
The large room was cold. Kate used her phone for a quick check for updates out of Rampart. Nothing. She listened to traffic on the streets below and the hum of the ventilation system until the door clicked open.
Three people filed in.
First, Chuck. His tie was already loosened, his shirt sleeves rolled up and his hair mussed. He dropped a folder on the table and sat without looking at Kate.
Next was Morris Chambers, from Human Resources. He was the antithesis to Chuck. He wore a suit, button-down shirt and bow tie. He opened a leather-bound executive notebook and clicked his pen.
Reeka followed, dressed to kill in a dark power blazer that would’ve worked for a funeral. Her face was in her phone, thumbs pausing when she shut the door and started the inquisition.
“Kate, this meeting is a result of what happened yesterday.”
Kate threw a questioning look to each of them. She thought this had been resolved, that Reeka had updated Chuck upon his return.
“I admit that what I did was stupid, but I was not charged.”
“This goes to your breach of Newslead policy.”
“But I worked it out with Rampart PD—this was a personal matter.”
“Yes, Chuck informed us of your sister’s tragedy. It’s heartbreaking. Still, it doesn’t excuse the violation, Kate.”
Reeka turned to Morris, cuing him to step in.
“Yes...” Morris cleared his throat. “The policy forbids Newslead staff from using their position for any form of personal gain.”
“But I didn’t gain anything.”
“You went to Rampart on a personal, private matter,” Morris read from his notebook. “But you represented yourself as a Newslead reporter on assignment, to New York trooper Len Reddick in an attempt to gain access to a crime scene. After you were refused access, you trespassed.”
“That led to possible charges.” Reeka stared at her.
Sensing a noose being tightened, Kate turned to Chuck, who was just sitting there. She couldn’t believe it. She and Chuck had been through hell together. He’d begged her to come to New York and work for him at Newslead. He knew about her sister and had been supportive. He was the most powerful manager in the room and, she thought, her friend. But there he was staring at the skyline. Leaving Kate alone.
“Quite frankly, Kate,” Reeka said, examining her own glossed nails. “I fail to comprehend why you went up there and did what you did.”
“What?”
“My read on this is that it’s a regional story, a rural domestic, a murder-suicide. Didn’t you lose your sister in western Canada?”
“What the hell do you—”
“Kate,” Chuck intervened.
“I was called by Rampart police,” Kate said. “They requested my help and I cooperated. There are strong indications my sister, who’s been feared dead for twenty years, was a victim!”
“Kate, take it down,” Chuck cautioned.
“But identities in Rampart have not been confirmed, have they?” Reeka lifted her eyebrows to punctuate her point.
“What? Reeka, how can you sit there and—”
“Kate,