Chapter 18

At 6:45 a.m., Hope heard the knock on her door. She padded over to the top of the hallway, leaned over the railing. "Come in!"

She hadn't slept much, but she'd showered and at least felt as if she might make it through the day. She wasn't about to let some asshole desecrating a sacred place destroy her. Instead, she'd let the act fuel her anger and strengthen her resolve.

She'd called Brendan on the way home and told him what had happened. And, yes, she was using her personal connections, but Danny was Brendan's brother and Paige his niece, and they'd both been victims of a vicious murderer, which fell under his professional remit as a homicide detective. Add to that the Catholic outrage, and maybe someone would actually catch the sick sonofabitch who'd done this.

But it wasn't Leech. It was too sloppy. Too risky. Leech considered himself refined and sophisticated. Seven years in maximum security might have blunted some of those fine edges, but she didn't think so.

Aaron Nash looked up as he opened the door, but his dark eyes told her nothing. The other man, Will Griffin, stood outside the door. She sent Will a nod, feeling guilty for the fact he'd been standing there half the night.

Aaron's brow creased with concern as he came up the stairs. "Did you get any rest?"

"No. Did they find Leech yet? Or the bastard who vandalized the grave?"

"Not yet." Interest sparked in those midnight eyes. "Why do you think it wasn't Leech who vandalized the grave?"

"Not his style. And not his choice of murder weapon." Her stomach clenched. So many things she didn't want to remember kept forcing themselves back into her brain. "Tell me it wasn't human blood on the headstone."

Aaron followed her into the kitchen where the percolator bubbled on the stove. "Previously frozen pig's blood."

"Thank God for that." Good news. Although not for the poor pig. She slipped her arm around her middle. She couldn't have borne it if someone else had been murdered. "Is it all over the news?"

Aaron nodded, and a rock settled in her stomach. "But no pictures. Crime scene techs cleaned the site up before they left."

Relief washed through her, surprising in its ferocity. Her gaze flashed to his. She'd planned to call a company as soon as she was notified the scene was released. "Whom do I thank for that?"

Aaron said nothing.

Their gazes locked briefly, but she had to look away. This man had held her last night while she wept. He'd seen enough cracks in her armor to make it harder to pretend she was unaffected by small acts of kindness. "Thank you."

Aaron shrugged. "They're the ones who did the work."

But he'd asked them to. He'd understood what it would have done to her to see her family's headstone smeared with blood on the news—today of all days.

She didn't know what to do with her hands, so she pulled mugs out of the cupboard. It wasn't often she felt awkward in her own home. Whom would she be awkward around? The cat?

She forced the feeling away. "What was in the envelope?"

"A photograph of you that had been printed out."

"And annotated with ‘Die Bitch' or something equally imaginative."

"Close enough."

She didn't want to know. "Did they find any other evidence?"

"They lifted some fingerprints. Might have DNA on the envelope. Collected all the items, except the pansies. They plan to courier everything first thing to the National Laboratory marked priority. You have Frazer to thank for that."

Frazer wanted Leech back inside as much as she did. He wouldn't want her gratitude, but he had it. "I'd like to prosecute whoever did this, so let's hope they were stupid enough to leave something identifying behind." She opened the fridge and pulled out cream. "It's one thing going after me. It's something entirely different going after my family."

"Talking of Frazer." Aaron's voice firmed. "He thinks you used your statement to the press last night to deliberately taunt Leech. To get him to come after you."

Hope pulled a face. "Assuming he's out there, better he comes after me than someone who doesn't have twenty-four-hour protection."

"Your twenty-four-hour protection detail are flesh and blood people too."

The breath whooshed out of her. She hadn't thought of it that way. She hadn't really thought at all. She'd lashed out in the moment.

"While it might be a ballsy move to provoke an escaped serial killer, I'd rather you didn't put my team in the line of fire without discussing it with us first."

Shame filled her. "You're right. I didn't think. I'm sorry."

"I know you'd never deliberately endanger anyone." His eyes softened. "If there comes a time when we know Leech is alive and decide to lure him someplace, we'll control that scenario."

Hope's spine stiffened. "That doesn't mean you get to control me, Aaron."

"I don't want to control you, Hope." He stared at her for another long moment, apparently seeing through her words and her sharp tone to the fear that lay beneath. "I am simply trying to keep you alive."

He'd pressed one of her hot buttons, and she'd reacted with a reflexive snap. "Sorry." Again.

"I can take it. Look, in a week's time this will seem like some distant dream."

"Promise?" Her lips quirked, but she realized with sudden insight, she'd miss this man. A little. Maybe she wasn't as antisocial as she thought. Perhaps she was finally ready to emerge out of the dark hole that her life had been for so long. She flinched away from the idea. There was safety in grief. She didn't have to put herself out there as anything except a capable attorney, or a grief-stricken widow, or a mother who'd lost her child.

It wasn't ballsy to provoke Leech. It was effortless.

People living their lives like it wasn't the end of the world, that was ballsy.

"Every law enforcement agency in the country is looking for Leech and the other two escaped convicts. If they are alive, they won't get far." Aaron touched his earpiece a second before she heard feet pound on her stairs.

His dark brow rose. "Apparently, your brother-in-law is here again and is still not a fan of handing over his weapon."

"I bet." She grabbed another mug and poured three cups of coffee, just like she had yesterday morning.

Aaron tilted his head. "You don't seem surprised. Does he come over every morning?"

"Not every day but often enough. Neither of us sleeps well." She waved away the explanation. It didn't matter. "I actually prefer the morning visits."

Easier to escape with the excuse of work than when he came over for a drink in the evening. As Brendan was pretty much her only visitor, she shouldn't be so critical.

"I called him on the way back from the cemetery. That wayI didn't have to tell my mother-in-law about what I'd found but had him do it instead. Mary would want to know straight away. Even at that time of night, she'd want to know. I expect she'll be along to put everything to rights as soon as Brendan gives her the all-clear." Hope could do it, but Mary would do it again, regardless. It gave the woman a focus, a purpose. A bit like being a prosecutor did for Hope.

She added cream and sugar to Brendan's mug. Milk to her own and left Aaron's black the way he'd taken it yesterday.

"And that way you get the Boston Police Department doing their own little investigation even if the FBI has taken over this particular crime scene."

"It can't hurt." Hope shrugged as she took a sip of the strong brew. "I can usually finagle information out of the Feds if I need it."

"Frazer."

She shrugged. "And Marshall Hayes. We're friends. I first met him as a defense attorney, but he's forgiven me. That's one of his wife's paintings above the fireplace. Josie and I bonded over serial killer experiences—not that we ever speak about them." Like Fight Club. "Unfortunately, Special Agent in Charge Salinger of the Boston Field Office is not a fan of mine. In here," she called out as she heard the door open.

Brendan strode into the kitchen and drew up short at the sight of Aaron leaning casually against the counter.

"You okay?" He ignored Aaron and walked toward her with his arms wide.

She held her coffee in front of her to prevent the full-on hug and accepted a side squeeze. "I could have done without this added drama, but I'm fine. Tired, but fine."

He helped himself to the coffee she'd made for him.

"Scene's all cleaned up. Press never got a single photograph."

Hope didn't miss the fact that, while he didn't directly claim responsibility for the act, he didn't give kudos where it was due either. Danny had idolized his older brother but hadn't been blind to his flaws. Neither was she.

"Any word from BPD? Were you able to find any traffic cam footage or eyewitnesses?" Hope inhaled the scent of caffeine and her brain cells perked up.

"Uniforms canvassed the area but nothing. They plan to go back tonight in case they missed anyone." Brendan scratched his head. "Not exactly a hive of activity even in the daytime. We'll take a look at traffic cams. If Leech is in town, we'll get him."

"I doubt it was Leech."

Lucy ran through with an accusing meow. He'd been asleep upstairs and was obviously worried he'd missed breakfast. Hope squeezed a pureed treat into a small dish then placed fresh kibble in his food bowl.

"Whoever it was, they're gonna pay," Brendan said angrily. "No one gets away with that."

"What about Janelli?"

Brendan made a noise. "He'd never do that to me."

"He'd do it to me," she said dryly. "Could pass it off as a prank to his fellow officers."

"He wouldn't do that to me," Brendan insisted. "He's Catholic too. And don't go saying anything like that where other people might hear you. Christ, the whole fucking department will think you're crazy."

Hope flinched but hid it behind another sip of coffee.

Brendan scrubbed his hand over his face. From the luggage he packed under his eyes, she doubted he'd gotten any more sleep than she had.

"Don't forget to let me know if they find anything," Hope reminded him.

"Sure."

"How is Mary holding up?"

Brendan grimaced. "She went to early mass, which will help."

"Did you stay with her last night?"

Brendan sniffed and nodded. Checked his watch. "Promised to pick her up and take her over to the cemetery before my shift starts. My lieutenant okayed me being a little late on account of being up all night."

"If only the judge in my current trial was so amenable." She didn't mean it though. She needed to get out of her home and out of her own head. Today of all days, she needed to work. "What about the Back Bay murder?"

"We closed it. Got an ID on the guy from the CCTV footage. We hauled him in, and he confessed after twenty minutes sweating in the box."

"Good news. Saves us all some time and effort and the taxpayers a lot of money."

Brendan shot Aaron a look from under his brows. "I hear the Feds are no closer to catching Leech and the other two escapees than they were yesterday."

She hated the thought that the system had failed to protect people the way it was supposed to. She was part of that system. They all were. "Presumably the marshals are checking in with his former acquaintances and seeing who he communicated with while in prison?"

"Presumably." Aaron blew the top of his coffee then took a sip.

She cocked her head. "You're not telling me everything."

"The USMS is in charge of the operation," the HRT operator said somberly. "Ask Frazer if you want more details."

Brendan sneered and turned away.

Hope wanted to push Aaron for more information, but she knew he wouldn't say anything in front of Brendan. He had integrity. Or maybe he didn't trust either of them. And why should he? His job demanded carefully guarded secrets and self-restraint. As an attorney, she understood and admired that.

"Forecast is for more snow." Brendan sniffed again and brought her attention back to him.

"Make sure Mary wraps up warm before she heads to the cemetery. The last thing we want is her catching a cold."

The woman was thin as a whippet and time had worn her down. Time and grief. At least she had her faith.

Brendan put his mug in the dishwasher, and Aaron followed suit.

"We still on for Sunday lunch?" Brendan shot her a look.

Hope gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Seriously?"

"We shouldn't let Leech dictate how we live our lives."

Just family, apparently.

"Sunday lunch?" Aaron's eyes were sharp with questions.

"Sunday roast at my ma's. Feds aren't invited." Brendan puffed out his chest.

Damn, he was annoying. It was a good thing she had to love him.

Aaron cocked his head as he looked at her, his expression clearly asking, "Will you tell him, or shall I?"

"If Leech is still on the run, we may need to reschedule."

"They can sit outside and watch the house. It's a couple of lousy hours at most."

"We can do a walk-through of the house and set up a perimeter," Aaron suggested.

"That'll look like a mob family dinner for Christ's sake."

"I'm not leaving my principal without protection?—"

"She'll have protection. Me." Brendan was on the tip of his toes, going nose-to-nose with the much larger federal agent, banging his chest with his pointer finger for emphasis.

Aaron shoved the guy back. "Stay out of my face, Detective. This is not up for debate."

Brendan looked like he might take a swing. Hope doubted that would work out well.

"If Leech is still on the run, why don't you and Mary come here on Sunday? I'll cook roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. I think I can remember how." Not that his mother had ever appreciated her cooking.

Brendan looked comically taken aback. Hope never entertained. Even when Danny was alive, he was the one who'd cooked.

Aaron narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

"It's Brendan and his mother. I'll order the groceries in." She shrugged. "Seems easier all around." Maybe she'd make enough for the men protecting her too. A show of appreciation even though she resented the Attorney General for insisting they be here.

It wasn't like they had a choice either.

Aaron pulled his lips to one side as he considered. "We can make that work."

Brendan's mouth curled, but thankfully he didn't say anything more.

Hope put her mug in the dishwasher and closed it. "Okay, then. Time for me to head to work."

"A little early for court." Aaron straightened, looking alert.

You'd never have known he'd been up all night.

"I need to go into the office first. I want to make sure Minnie Ramon is okay after her night in the cells."

"What's this?" Brendan demanded.

"A woman pulled a knife on Hope in the DA's office."

"I thought you were supposed to protect her?" Brendan blustered.

"Which is why Mrs. Ramon is currently in custody and Hope is unharmed," Aaron stated.

Hope rolled her eyes. "Enough, Brendan. I don't have time for a dick-measuring contest."

She went into the lounge, gave Lucifer a final stroke, pulled on her beige winter coat, and then slipped into her tall brown leather boots at the door.

She went to lift a banker's box, but Aaron beat her to it.

"These are the files Frazer wanted?"

She nodded.

"I'll get one of the team to make a couple of copies if that's okay? Before court. I'd like to read through everything too. Give me a better idea of the sort of person Leech is."

"Knock yourself out." It would save her time, and Colin had other things to do. She grabbed her briefcase.

"What's in the boxes?" asked Brendan.

"The FBI want to go over any files I have from the first trial to look for any possible places Leech might go or people he might seek out for help."

"That motherfucker is probably in Canada by now." Brendan followed them both out of the apartment.

Hope was not comforted by that thought. She didn't want Leech to be free. She wanted him punished or dead.

She nodded to Will Griffin on the way out. "I hope you get more sleep than we managed last night."

The man smiled, and his very attractive face lit up. "I hope so too. Stay safe at work today, ma'am."

"Call me Hope. Ma'am makes me feel old enough to be your grandmother."

"Hope." Griffin nodded.

She smiled. Despite the weirdness of the situation, she had the impression that some of these people genuinely cared. She wasn't simply a job or an op. She wasn't only a former defense attorney who'd messed up and gotten her family killed.

She was a human being with feelings and thoughts on how she got to live her life.

She hated that it mattered.