Last Chance to Die. Noah Boyd

amusement wherever he can.”

      “I’ll never understand you. You could be whatever you want. You have advanced degrees. The director has offered you complete autonomy if you’ll come back to the Bureau, but instead you choose physical labor just so you won’t have to take orders. If that’s who you are, fine, but you don’t get to rub everyone else’s face in it simply because they’re not like you.” She looked at him sternly. “It’s called hypocrisy.” She could see that her words had stung him, but she couldn’t find anything inaccurate in what she’d said.

      He reached up and traced the small L-shaped scar high on her cheekbone and then smiled gently. “You don’t have to wonder anymore, Kate, whether we’re too much alike. There was a time, and not very long ago, that you would have thought they were phonies, too,” he said. “But you’re right, I’ve been a phony myself. The only defense I can offer is that you make my compass go haywire. The only reason I’m doing any of this is you.”

      He turned and opened the door. “Like you said, we gave it a shot,” he said. “When it was right, it was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. That’s why I had to try one last time.”

      “You can’t just walk out like that. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

      “This is the best way to leave it. Then we won’t have any lingering doubts.”

      “At least let me drive you to the airport. It’s freezing out.”

      “I live in Chicago, remember? This isn’t cold.”

      “I’ll feel better about this if I can take you. It’ll give us a chance to talk a little more. Right now I feel like we’re supposed to hate each other.”

      “It’ll be fine, Kate. I’ll get a taxi.”

      “It’s New Year’s Eve—you’ll never find one.”

      “You’re probably right.” He picked up his suitcase. “Okay, I’ll take a ride, but only if we don’t talk. I don’t want to say anything that’ll make this worse.”

      For the briefest moment, she considered telling him about the night before Thanksgiving and asking him what he thought about the guy in the bar. The day she got home from the hospital, she’d gone into her garage to change the battery in the remote for the overhead door. But it had worked fine. She thought that maybe she’d just pushed the wrong part of it in her semiconscious state. But three days ago she’d realized that it had been over a month and she hadn’t heard anything from OPR. So she’d gone back into the garage and retraced the events from that night as best she could. That’s when she realized that she couldn’t have opened the inside door to her condominium if her keys were locked in the car.

      Then she’d bought a bottle of Drambuie and tasted it. It had a honey-sweet taste to it, nothing like what she remembered from the bar.

      The next day she’d checked with the Metropolitan Police, and they’d said they hadn’t had any recent drug-facilitated rapes reported. Since she was sneaking around behind OPR’s back, she didn’t want to start asking questions of people who were at the bar and have it get back to Daniels. Vail, who saw these things on a different level, would have been the perfect person to ask. But under the circumstances, giving him a reason to stay would be counterproductive.

      “If that’s the way you want to leave this,” she said.

      The phone rang. “You’d better get that,” he said. “The Bureau probably thought we actually had a date and needed to ruin it one last time.”

      “That isn’t fair.”

      “Probably not, but you can’t say it’s inaccurate.”

      “This is exactly why it would never work between us. Not everyone who takes orders for a living is a mortal enemy of Steven Vail.”

      Vail held up his hands in apology. “I told you I’d say something that would make it worse.”

      As she walked to the phone, she decided to lighten the mood and try to initiate some sort of interim peace. “I know it’s been a while since the FBI fired you, but nobody gets called out on Thanksgiving, Christmas, or New Year’s Eve. It’s in our latest contract.” She picked up the receiver. “Kate Bannon. Oh, hi, Tim. Happy New Year.” She listened and after a few seconds turned her back to Vail.

      He sat down on his suitcase and waited for the inevitable change of plans.

      She hung up and said, “A seven-year-old boy was abducted in Reston, Virginia, which is two towns over from here.”

      When she didn’t offer any other details, he said, “The FBI doesn’t have jurisdiction for twenty-four hours in an abduction. Why did they call you?”

      “The Reston chief is a retired agent from the Washington Field Office. We go back a lot of years. He’s a good guy, but something like this, he’s probably in over his head. His entire career was working applicant cases, asking the same handful of questions about character and loyalty. Would you mind if we stopped there on the way? It shouldn’t take long. He just needs some reassurance—you know, what help the Bureau can give him. Maybe a little direction.”

      In a cryptic tone, Vail said, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

      “You wouldn’t miss what?” she asked suspiciously.

      “You pretending not to get involved to prove to me, and yourself, that your career isn’t what’s come between us.”

      “If you’re trying to ensure that there’ll be no talking on the way, congratulations.” She handed him her keys. “There’s one more call I have to make, would you mind warming up the car?”

      Vail gave her an inquiring look and then started laughing. “No wonder you’re able to resist my charms. You have a date.”

      “It’s not actually a—”

      Vail held up his hands. “Kate, it’s fine. I was hoping you weren’t serious about it being over. That’s why I came. Obviously I was wrong. I’ll go start the car.”

      Five minutes later Kate walked into the garage and climbed behind the wheel. As soon as they pulled out, Vail asked, “How long has the boy been gone?”

      “So we are going to talk.”

      “I’m just trying to establish the parameters of your momentary detour.”

      “Why?”

      “So I’ll be able to mark the exact second you violated the estimate of your involvement.”

      “You really think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?”

      “Not that it matters anymore, but oh yeah,” Vail answered.

      She turned to him, wanting to look indignant but knowing she couldn’t pull it off. Then she told him, “Tim said about five hours.”

      “You do understand that the chances of him being found alive are not good.”

      “Then I guess you do understand that’s why I have to go.”

      Vail stared straight ahead for a moment. “I do.”

      KATE FLASHED HER CREDENTIALS at the police officer behind the glass, and he opened the door for her and Vail. They were led to a small conference room where more than a dozen police officers and detectives sat crowded around a conference table designed for half that number.

      The chief, Tim Mallon, rose anxiously and shook hands with her. She introduced him to Vail. One of the officers got up so Kate could sit down and Vail backed up against the closest wall.

      Mallon handed Kate a sheet of paper and a photo. “That’s the boy, Joey Walton, and the BOLO we put out along with the Amber Alert. He and his parents were at a local New Year’s Eve 5K run. It also had a half-mile race for the kids. The parents watched the start, and by the time they got to the finish line, he was gone.