Chapter 19

NINETEEN

Exhausted, Beth had long given up fighting the thirst and hunger. She pushed the pain to another part of her mind and rested her head on her arms and then tried to sleep. At the sound of voices, Beth lifted her head. Relief flooded through her at the sight of Styles coming through the door with Bear at his heels. The dog went straight to her and rested his big head on her lap. She peered through the door to see Carter and Jo standing in the passageway. Sticky with blood, stinking, and dying for a cup of coffee, she stood, waving slightly from exhaustion. "Styles, what's happening?"

"Sit down before you fall down." Styles placed a bag on the table and a to-go cup of coffee. He fished in his pocket and handed her a packet of wipes. "That's just for now. I'm not shutting the door, and once you've had something to eat and drunk the coffee, you can go down to the bathroom and clean up. They had no right to treat us like this. In case you didn't know, I've been right next door and interrogated worse than a criminal. I'm assuming the same thing happened to you?"

Beth took a long pull on the coffee and then used the wipes to clean her face and hands. "They didn't even offer me a glass of water. I had to ask Wolfe to get me one and then he and Jo ran me through a series of questions. They were nice, not like the sheriff. He didn't even read me my rights." She shook her head. "We were the victims. This is just the same as what happened to me in DC. Honestly, what choice did I have? The guy in my room came at me with a knife, he cut through my sweater, and then you saw what happened in your room."

What was happening to her? She'd never experienced vulnerability before and now she couldn't control the trembling. She looked at him. "Is it inappropriate if I ask you for a hug?"

"No and I figure I need one too. It's been a nightmare. The adrenaline letdown gives me the shakes too." Styles moved his chair closer to her and placed one arm around her shoulders. "Four people died and the sheriff was just following procedure. I convinced him to call the director as it was an FBI matter. It was the director who ordered Jo to do an on-the-spot evaluation along with Wolfe. The director values his opinion. The director wants us back on the case ASAP and you're his best cybercrime expert."

Unfamiliar to being hugged, Beth stared at her bloodstained hands. "Did you get any feedback from Carter?"

"Yeah, they cleared me without a problem." Styles pulled her closer. "Did you figure they'd suspend you, because Jo said she'd inform the director you're shaken but okay." He bent to look at her. "That's normal… being shaken after what happened. You know that, right?"

Nodding, Beth tried to control her mixed emotions. "Yeah, I admit that five guys attacking us was a little intense. They were skilled mercenaries and nothing like the drunken miners we're used to handling."

Trying to understand why she appreciated Styles holding her, she gave up and rested her head on his shoulder. Maybe this was a normal response to his caring nature. She'd never experienced a feeling of safety before and allowing anyone to touch her was out of the question. She swallowed the bite of the sandwich and leaned against him. "Jo would know a lie in a heartbeat. Wolfe, I like. I told him a time ago about what happened to me in foster care and he offered me his confidence if I ever wanted to talk. I trust him."

"Do you trust me?" Styles gave her a squeeze. "I don't have a Hippocratic oath to back me up, but you have my word as your friend. What we discuss will never go any further. That's a solemn promise I'll take to my grave."

Beth thought for a beat. She wanted to be honest with him. "I've already trusted you with most of my secrets." She finished the coffee and looked at him. "There are just some that if I told you, they would break me apart. I'd rather keep them locked up where they can't hurt anyone."

"I figure we all have secrets like that, especially soldiers." Styles rubbed her back and then stood. "Some things are best forgotten." He indicated with his chin toward the door. "The bathroom is just across the hall. You go and clean up and I'll wait outside and keep watch. I don't want the sheriff to believe we've escaped custody." He pulled a comb from his back pocket and handed it to her. "This might be useful."

Beth smiled at him. "Thanks." She thought for a beat with one hand pressed against the door. "What about our things at the motel?"

"They'll be at the hotel; Carter took them over for us." Styles smiled. "It's just across the road. We'll be staying there tonight and heading home first thing in the morning."

It took some time to wash the blood from her hands and face. She used paper towels to dab at the red spots in her hair. She needed a shower and a change of clothes. She'd started to smell of blood hours ago, and everyone's refusal of her basic human needs disgusted her. Once done, she went out to find Styles and Bear waiting for her. Styles had dark circles under his eyes and a bruise on one cheek. One side of his hair was matted with blood. The spatter of a head shot at close range had covered both of them. In a few minutes she'd killed three men. She remembered the scene almost clinically as if through different eyes. She could see herself pulling the trigger, there was no emotion only survival. Did she care she killed them? No. Would that be the correct answer in a psych test? Or would the truth bring her down? Maybe she'd test her newfound closeness to Styles and ask him. Somehow, she'd need to understand how to interpret the correct emotions and react accordingly. Going forward it was the only way to survive.

Beth combed her hair and tied it into a ponytail. She looked a little better, although her clothes were covered in blood. She wondered what the clerk on the hotel desk would say to them when they walked inside. Her boots were ruined. Maybe she'd have time to by a new pair before returning home. She stepped into the passageway and pointed to her boots. "I'll never get the blood out of them. Do you mind if we stop by the store I mentioned yesterday? I want to buy a pair."

"Sure, once we've cleaned up and changed clothes, but I really need a couple of hours' sleep." Styles glanced at his watch. "It's still early. How about we go to the hotel, grab some shuteye, and go shopping around three? We can have dinner and get a good night's sleep and head home first thing in the morning."

Beth nodded and sat on a chair outside the interrogation room. "Mind if we wait out here? I hate being locked up."

"Me too." Styles pulled up a chair and sat beside her. "Anything else worrying you?"

Nodding, Beth stared at her blood-spattered boots. "I need to get into Shoebridge's files. I found a tiny link to data I can follow. The longer I wait, the easier it is for him to cover his tracks." She frowned. "I hope they didn't take my laptop into evidence. I'd like to work on it ASAP."

"I don't believe they'd take the laptop. It's FBI property." Styles touched her arm. "Why aren't you looking at me? Is it the blood in my hair?"

Avoiding his gaze meant he couldn't read her thoughts, and as he was so perceptive, often she couldn't risk it. Maybe this time she should. Covering the awkward moment with a laugh, Beth turned to face him. "No, sorry. I was miles away thinking about the events last night and how they played out. It's kind of hard trying to push them out of my mind. The killing and all." She took a deep breath. It was now or never. "I don't feel any remorse for killing them, Styles. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Does that make me crazy like my dad?"

"Nope, that makes you a good agent." Styles frowned and shook his head slowly. "I can't imagine how it feels to have the burden of a psychopathic killer as a father hanging around your neck. I guess it's normal for you to worry you might become like him, especially in a job like ours where killing people is a reality. If it makes you feel any better, I meant to hurt the guy I threw out of the window. He came at me with a knife with the intent to kill. I didn't think twice about breaking the other one's neck and would have before the third guy cut my throat if you hadn't arrived on scene." He shrugged. "When it's me or them on the streets, I rarely think of them after the fact. I know in my heart it was a just kill. I don't lose sleep over people who make the mistake of trying to kill me. You shouldn't either."

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Beth nodded. "The thing is, if I weren't an FBI agent when what happened last night went down, I'd be locked up and viewed as a criminal." She poked at her temple. "It would have played out the same. In here, I can't understand how carrying a badge makes it okay." She blew out a long breath and took her life in her hands. "For example, look at the Tarot Killer. Put him in my place and he'd go for murder one. He'd have killed the bad guys same as I did but ended up in jail."

"Maybe not." Styles rubbed his chin. "Five men breaking into a motel room with the intent to murder makes it self-defense." His concerned gaze moved over her. "You're exhausted and not thinking straight. Promise me when you get to the hotel, you'll get some sleep. Fine if you want to work later, but right now, we both need some rest or we'll be no good to anyone."

Beth nodded slowly. "Okay. What are you going to do about Ginny?"

"Nothing right now." Styles stared at the ceiling. "I'll wait until we've wrapped up the investigation into Shoebridge and the doctor and then I'll give her time to get her life back together. The Her Broken Wings Foundation will care for her and Billy. Later they'll find her a place to stay and work. Once I know she's stable, I'll contact my mom and tell her I've found her. I really don't want her to know the circumstances of what happened, but that will be up to Ginny." He glanced at her. "I figure she'll blame me for Shoebridge leaving—and she'll be right. I guess it's debatable if she'll ever accept the truth."

Footsteps came from the passageway and Beth watched the sheriff walk toward them. She pushed to her feet and glared at him. "Are we free to go?"

"Yeah." The sheriff nodded and looked at Styles. "The director wants you to call him when you get back to your office. The exit is through the door and to the left." He opened a door with his keys and allowed them to pass.

Beth shot him a stare she hoped conveyed everything she thought of the treatment she'd received by him and his men. "Thank you, Sheriff. I'll be sure my report includes every aspect of our stay with you. If you're real lucky, you might get someone from the Justice Department dropping by to give you a lesson on duty of care."