Winter's Rise Page 3

  While he and Autumn exchanged stories about their respective hometowns, he could almost push the anxiety over Winter out of his head altogether.

  He learned that Autumn—what the hell was with women and their seasonal names?—had been born and raised in Minnetonka, Minnesota and that she had moved to Virginia for graduate school. As a transplant from the Lone Star State, he could sympathize, though the change in climate had come as much less of a shock to him.

  “Don’t get me wrong, it’s mostly good.” A small smile played on her pretty face. “The beach is pretty close, and unlike the beaches in Minnesota, it’s, well, it’s a real beach. Not just one that’s responsible for ten feet of lake effect snow every winter. But I don’t know. I miss the cold sometimes.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone say that before.”

  “It sounded a little weird when it came out of my mouth,” she agreed, and disappeared into an office at the other end of the shelves of liquor bottles, then shrugged into a light gray canvas jacket as she made her way out from behind the bar.

  “Anyway, my aunt is here ‘til close if you need anything else. She’s not actually my aunt, but she’s my adopted mom’s best friend, so I call her my aunt. It’s been a long week, and since I don’t have class or anything tomorrow, I’m going to go home and sleep for sixteen hours straight.”

  “I have no idea how anyone can do that.” With a quiet chuckle, he hopped down from the stool. “I sleep for more than nine hours, and I feel like a slug. You’re like a cat. Cats sleep for sixteen hours a day.”

  “Cats have it made,” Autumn replied. “If reincarnation is real, I hope I come back as a pampered house cat. A dog would be okay too. My dog has a pretty cushy life. He just has to listen to me bitch about geeky stuff like statistical power and a slow internet connection.”

  Noah laughed. “A slow internet connection can turn even a lady as nice as my grandma into the Incredible Hulk. And that woman is one of the nicest people I think I’ve ever met, ever, and that’s not just because she’s my grandma. She fosters kittens, and I don’t think you get a lot nicer than someone who fosters kittens.”

  At the thought of Eileen Dalton and her penchant for rescuing and caring for stray animals, Noah wished he was back home. The only other time he had been so far away from his family was during two deployments to the Middle East. Until he moved to Virginia, he had always been able to count on a visit to his grandma to help him through the darker points in his life.

  Aside from words of wisdom, she provided encouragement, no matter the life path he walked. He could quit his job at the FBI to become a full-time rodeo clown, and Grandma Eileen would still encourage him if she knew it made him happy.

  “You all right?”

  Autumn’s voice snapped him away from the reverie and back to the sparsely populated bar. Forcing the twinge of sadness off his face, he glanced at her and nodded.

  “Sorry, that’s the third time I’ve asked you that.” Shouldering a black handbag, she offered a strained smile. “I should go before I start asking you to look at gray blobs and tell me what you see.”

  “Do you need a ride home?”

  He blurted out the question before he could think it through. Despite the hour of lighthearted banter, he was still a stranger to this pretty redhead. FBI agent or not, a man’s offer to drive a single woman home was only likely to be interpreted one way.

  But was he so sure he didn’t mean it that way? The unmistakable sting of guilt clawed at his stomach as he mulled over the idea. Autumn Trent was funny and kind, and even in a worn band t-shirt, dark jeans, and motorcycle boots, her good looks were undeniable.

  He and Winter were not in a relationship, he reminded himself. Not even close. They’d had one drunk kiss and one awkward sober kiss, and that was it.

  And then, without a word, she had disappeared. Dropped off the face of the planet without so much as a text message to explain her absence.

  Didn’t he have a right to be upset?

  Hell, since he and Winter had become friends, this wouldn’t even be the first time he had dated or slept with another woman. Though his two-week fling with a server named Jessie felt like it had occurred in another lifetime. He was only a little over six months removed from the fleeting relationship.

  He’d told Winter that Jessie had dumped him for the bartender at the restaurant where she worked, but the confession wasn’t entirely true. Jessie had broken up with him, but not just because she wanted to date her bartender friend. According to her, Noah’s interest was quite clearly in another woman. He’d seen no reason to deny the observation, so he had merely agreed to an amicable breakup.

  “A ride?” Autumn echoed. The grin had vanished from her lips, and he wondered how long they had stood in silence. “I’m fine. I drove myself.”

  “You just told me that you like your new apartment because you can walk to work when it’s nice outside. The high today was seventy-five.”

  He didn’t know why he chose to defend his choice, but like the question itself, the words left his mouth before he could think to stop them.

  “I’m from Minnesota,” she started, her tone one step below haughty. “Maybe seventy-five is too warm.”

  “I seriously doubt that.” He couldn’t seem to keep himself from talking. “Seventy-five is about perfect for anyone.”

  “Dude, you’re being a creep.” The statement was as flat as a worn-out couch cushion.

  “I am, aren’t I?” He sighed as he raised a hand to rub his eyes.

  “Little bit, yeah.” She opened her stance and faced him head-on. “Tell you what. I’ll just shoot straight with you. I’m not interested in that, like, at all. This whole dynamic, the whole picking up someone at the bar, it’s not my thing. No offense if it’s yours, to each their own.”

  Noah felt like an ass. “Shit. Sorry, I—”

  She held up a finger. “It’s not you, I promise. This August, I’ll be defending my dissertation, and I’ve barely even started writing it. I’ve been too damn busy trying to get in all the practicum hours humanly possible, but now that those are almost over with, I’ve got to write a two-hundred-page research paper in the span of something like five months.”

  Noah straightened. “Damn, that’s a lot of work.”

  She nodded, seeming to relax a little. “It sounds doable, but when you factor in trying to help my aunt out here at the bar and squeezing in the rest of those practicum hours, it gets a little fucking stressful.”

  He wanted to reach out and give her shoulder a friendly squeeze, but he kept his hands to his damn self. “I’m sure it is.”

  Her face fell, and she pushed a hand through her hair. “Damn it, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ramble on about my life story, but there you go. I’m also about seven months removed from a really nasty breakup, so I’ll call that icing on the cake.”

  He scratched his chin. “Damn, I’m the dumbass here, so why does it feel like you’re apologizing to me?”

  “Honestly?” She fiddled with the silver zipper of her jacket as her green eyes darted back up to meet his. “I’ve had guys say some pretty nasty shit to me after I turned them down. Anymore, I just try to cover all my bases and get ahead of it, so none of them decide to follow me home. Which has happened before.”

  “Wow.” He cleared his throat. “Now, I definitely want to give you a ride home, but more as a form of hazard pay, you know? Police escort back to your place so no creeps follow you.”

  With a laugh that sounded more like a snort, she shook her head. “I go to Krav Maga lessons twice a week. I’ll be all right.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll be honest now.” Though he made an effort to give her a matter-of-fact smile, he was sure the look came across as more wistful than sarcastic. “I don’t know why I said that. That was stupid, and I’m sorry. I’m not fit to deal with any of that shit right now, either. It’s just, it feels like I’m a million miles away from home, and my best friend, she’s going through some shit that
I don’t even know about. I don’t know about it because she dropped off the face of the planet, and now I’ve got no idea what the hell is going on. All I know is that I can’t fix it, and I think I’m losing my mind a little.”

  Her expression softened, and he could almost hear the tension leave her body.

  “A compromise, then,” she said as she stuck out her hand. “Because I could seriously use a friend that isn’t another Ph.D. student working on their own dissertation. Plus, you’re Shelby and Bree’s friend, so you’ve already got that going for you.”

  Noah placed a hand over his heart. “Your trust brings me honor.”

  Autumn rolled her eyes, but the smile got a little bit bigger. “I’ll accept that ride home, but I’m going to ask for one favor. There’s this Mexican place a few blocks away that’s open twenty-four hours a day, Alonso’s, and they’ve got a drive-thru. If you could swing through there so I can buy myself some food, I’ll even throw in a burrito.”

  As Noah accepted her handshake, he nodded and grinned. “I could go for a chimichanga.”

  “Chimichanga eating contest, then,” she proclaimed, raising her arm for a high-five.

  “Winner pays the bill?”

  She snorted. “Oh, hell no. I’m a graduate student, dude. I don’t have bottomless chimichanga money.”

  4

  The scent of wet asphalt followed Winter as she pushed open a set of tinted glass double doors to make her way into the building. A recent storm had left the summer air heavy and damp, and even now, a new mass of leaden clouds pushed in to obscure the morning sunlight. She was almost half an hour early, but apparently, she wasn’t the only agent in Violent Crimes who’d thought to get a head start on their day.

  Fortunately, the only greeting Sun Ming offered was a half-smile and a slight nod. As Winter returned the gesture, she found for the first time that she was glad for Sun’s standoffish persona.

  With Sun, she didn’t have to worry about a barrage of questions regarding her whereabouts over the last few months, or an interrogation into the reason she’d taken more than two weeks to come to the office after she received Noah’s phone call.

  Sun wanted to have the conversation as much as Winter did, and this morning, that suited Winter just fine.

  After she retrieved a bottle of water and a steaming mug of coffee that could double as paint thinner, Winter slunk out of the break area and to her cubicle. Her movements were hurried, and she figured she looked more like a jewel thief than an agent on her first day back at work.

  Instead of laser alarm systems and security cameras, Winter sought to avoid friends.

  She knew she couldn’t avoid them forever, but she told herself she at least needed a little time to settle in, to let the caffeine work its way through her system. With a tentative sip from the mug of battery acid, she logged in to the computer to sift through the emails she had missed during her absence.

  Though she clicked and scrolled like a person who was paying attention to the screen, her thoughts wandered. To the best of her knowledge, the only person in the entire building who knew the reason for her sudden departure was her boss, Max Osbourne.

  Max had been thoroughly unimpressed by her involvement in the Douglas Kilroy investigation, but the mass shooting a few hours outside McCook had created more than enough work to divert his attention. Aside from a pointed, “What the hell were you thinking,” he had brushed past the topic altogether. Even if the SAC had been angry with her, she knew he wouldn’t betray the trust of any of the agents under his command.

  The day after Noah’s phone call, she and her grandmother had taken Grampa Jack to the hospital after he experienced a spike in lower back pain. Though neither Winter nor Beth would admit it, they were prepared for the worst.

  For hours, they sat in the waiting room beneath a blanket of silence.

  When the doctor had pushed her way through the double doors beside the reception desk, Winter and Gramma Beth had leapt to their feet. The woman’s smile had warmed at the anxious movement, and the kind expression was one Winter was sure she would never forget.

  After a series of tests, the doctor determined that Grampa Jack was in the midst of a flare-up brought on by an autoimmune disorder. Though lupus was more common in women than men, the doctor had established that it was the cause of Jack’s chronic pain. The condition didn’t have a cure, but treatment with corticosteroids and anti-inflammatory medication could manage flare-ups.

  Due in part to Jack’s age, the doctor recommended he stay in the hospital for a couple days to ensure his kidneys hadn’t suffered permanent damage. A week and a half later, when Winter was satisfied that there was no secondary disease beneath the lupus, she’d finally felt comfortable enough to head to Richmond.

  The explanation she had given Gramma Beth about the request for her return to the office was vague. She didn’t want to elevate Beth’s hope just to return a week later to advise they had hit a dead end. Hell, she didn’t even want to raise her own hopes.

  As she took another sip from her half-emptied mug, Winter grimaced. Her sleep the night before had been fretful, and she reminded herself that she needed the caffeine boost.

  “Agent Black,” a gravelly voice called.

  Wordlessly, she turned in her chair to face the SAC of Violent Crimes. Max Osbourne’s gray buzz cut and his scrutinizing gaze were just the same as when she left.

  “Sir,” she greeted, her voice quiet but filled with purpose.

  His features didn’t change. “Conference room in ten minutes.”

  Winter nodded. As her boss disappeared around the corner, she returned her vacant stare to the computer monitor. She could hear her pulse as it rushed in her ears, and she didn’t think the mug of gasoline was responsible for the churning weight in her stomach.

  With a resigned sigh, she planted both palms on the desk and pushed herself out of the chair. She thought she could handle an awkward reunion with her coworkers and friends or a meeting about her brother’s whereabouts, but she wasn’t so sure she was ready to deal with both in one sitting.

  By the time she stepped through the doorway to the small room, she was ready to turn around, throw up, or both.

  White light glinted off Noah’s eyes as he looked up from the laptop. Shadows moved along his scruffy face as he clenched his jaw and snapped his attention back to the screen.

  “Long time no see,” he muttered. “Glad you could make it.”

  At the flat sarcasm, she felt the first pinpricks of adrenaline on the back of her neck.

  She deserved the sardonic greeting, but the tone still took her aback. Rather than offer a rebuttal, Winter was silent as she dropped down to sit beside Bree Stafford. Though Bree’s smile was warm, the comforting look did little to ease the sting of Noah’s offhand remark.

  A flicker of movement in the doorway drew both Bree and Winter’s attention, but as soon as she looked up at the tall figure, she wished she hadn’t.

  “Oh, you’re here.” Aiden’s voice was as flat and unimpressed as Noah’s.

  Though she wanted to crawl beneath the table to avoid their scrutiny, Winter straightened in her chair and crossed both arms over her chest.

  “Get it out of your systems,” she ordered. “We’ve got work to do.”

  Aiden rolled his eyes as he eased the glass and metal door closed behind himself. “Right. Work.”

  From where he sat in the shadows off to the side, Max cleared his throat. “Dalton, Parrish, stop acting like a couple pissy teenagers and get to it. I’ve got a meeting in fifteen minutes.”

  Winter had to stop herself from jumping at the sudden disturbance. She’d been so preoccupied with Noah’s sarcastic greeting that she hadn’t even noticed her boss.

  “Roger that,” Noah grumbled.

  “What did you find?” Bree’s calm demeanor was a stark contrast from the tension that permeated every other square inch of the damn room.

  Glancing from Bree to Winter and then back, Aiden took a seat in t
he chair beside Noah’s.

  “A month and a half ago,” Noah bit out, his gaze fixed on the glowing screen, “we ran a picture of Justin Black through a new age progression software prototype to generate an image of what he’d look like now. The program is clearly new and still in beta, but its algorithms let you add photos of family members to make the image more accurate. Its primary use will be in missing persons cases and to generate images of fugitives who’ve been on the run for years at a time.”

  Winter wanted to ask what he meant when he said “we” ran the picture through age progression software, wanted to ask why they hadn’t thought to make use of the program sooner, but every word coming from her brain got caught in her throat as he turned the laptop to face her and Bree.

  “That’s him,” was all she could manage.

  Blue eyes the same unusual hue as her own stared back at her, and the light shadow of facial hair darkened the young man’s cheeks. His black hair was short but styled. Where she remembered a goofy, gap-toothed grin, the smile now showed off straight, white teeth.

  Though Bill Black, Winter’s father, had braces during his early high school years, Winter and Justin’s mother was born with a perfect smile. Without a doubt, Winter had inherited her mother’s dental genes, but she, of course, never knew how Justin had fared.

  Noah met Winter’s gaze for the shortest of moments. “We went through all the shit Kilroy left behind.” Any irritability or sarcasm was gone.

  “And then we went through it again,” Aiden put in.

  Winter’s intent stare was on the computer screen, but she saw Noah nod from the corner of her eye.

  “And again,” Aiden said before lifting his shoulders in a heavy shrug. “We caught a break when a woman who’d been out of the country for six months returned home and recognized Kilroy’s picture as someone who utilized a storage unit close to her own.”

  Winter leaned forward, her breath barely wanting to leave her lungs. “What did you find?”

  Aiden’s glance flicked to her for the space of a second. “Among boxes of useless shit, he had a folder full of mostly useless shit. Newspaper clippings of other crimes like Ted Bundy and John Wayne Gacy’s murders. But there was something else in there, something that just didn’t look like it belonged.”