Full Disclosure (42 page)

“Ready to go make some arrests?”

Paul paused from digging out his keys. Ann was waiting at his car with two cups of coffee. He grinned because he couldn't help it. “It's five a.m.”

“I hate this early-morning start of a job, but I hear you—for some reason—like it.”

Paul took one of the coffees. “Thirty arrests need an early start.”

“I thought I would offer to chauffeur today, and I'm good at keeping the coffee coming. I know about Margaret's secret stash.”

Paul leaned forward and kissed her. “Thanks. You don't like coffee.”

“These are both for you. I figured you couldn't have too much caffeine on a day like this. Do we need to go get donuts for Sam and Rita?”

“They're already in the field, but I can use a box. I know a place on the way.”

“Then let's go to work, Agent Falcon.”

The arrests began at six a.m. and rolled through the day, the last of the thirty being made shortly after two p.m. Paul paced the main conference room, glad to have his full team working on the case now, shifting off between several phones, listening to updates. Agents were acting across two dozen different cities, serving warrants and making the arrests.

“Here.” Ann put a soda into his hand.

He turned, startled, and she smiled. “You're growing hoarse.”

“Thanks.”

Ann rejoined the intern, who was working the grid on the board, checking off when an arrest was made, when the interview began, when the offer was made for a deal, when warrants were served, when phone and financial evidence began to be gathered.

Paul had enough agents that even thirty arrests were unfolding in an orderly way. Half of the interviews had already begun, and all of the warrants had been served. What Paul didn't have yet, what he was hoping to find, was someone with more information about the lady shooter willing to trade it for a better deal.

Paul saw a check mark go onto the board in the column with the heading Deal Accepted. He looked at the name on the board of the agent doing the interview and smiled. “Way
to go, Franklin,” he said softly, wishing he was there in person to congratulate the man.

Moments later another check mark went on the board. Rita had a deal accepted. Paul mentally raised his expectations from three people accepting a deal to eight. An audiotape could shake the most confident person.

The head of the legal task force passed him, circling the room in the opposite direction. Paul had decided he liked the man. The director had been by earlier, and Arthur was a regular. Paul was a bit surprised not to see the VP here to watch the arrests unfold.

Paul scanned the muted televisions they were monitoring to see how this case was breaking in the news cycle. Reporters had most of the thirty murders. The connection to a common, single lady shooter had just been made. Paul thought in an hour the news of the audiotapes would be out there.

He crossed the room to join Ann. He didn't care who was in the room or who was watching. He wrapped his arms around her to give her a hug. “See where your middleman wreck eventually went? You pushed to crack the day-planner codes, we found the house, we did interviews, she reacted, and now we have thirty murders solved. This all began with you.”

She smiled. “Ice cream works as a nice thank-you.”

“Whenever this case finally ends,” Paul promised. “Do you think she is out there watching the breaking news as arrests are made?”

“I think she's watching, and she's wondering how close you are to knocking on her front door.”

“Let's hope that day arrives. In case you get an MHI call and need to leave, let me tell you now how much I appreciate you being here.”

“You're very welcome.”

“Boss, I've got Sam for you.”

Paul walked over to take the phone.

Paul switched to decaf during the three weeks after the arrests in order to survive the pace of the job. Margaret already had a mug poured for him as he walked into Suite 906. She put it in his hand with a smile. “He's expecting you.”

Paul took a deep breath and drank half the coffee. “Can I bargain for one of those ten-minute interruptions of yours?”

“I'll interrupt in ten minutes.”

Paul headed into the office. “Boss.”

Arthur set down his phone and waved him in. “Have you had time to catch your breath yet?”

The question caught Paul off guard enough that he had to laugh. “No, sir. It's been a busy few weeks. I think I've met myself coming and going a few times.”

Arthur pointed to a chair. He came around to lean against the front of the desk. “The U.S. attorney is pleased. His legal teams are up and running for the thirty murder cases. We've got nine guilty pleas, and six more angling to give a guilty plea on better terms. Even the press is positive. Where are you at with the lady shooter?”

“Sam, Rita, and I just finished a detailed review of what the interviews provided us in new info about her. The bottom line, there's little new to work. A search of the Boston area for someone who recognized her old picture has come up dry. We'll keep looking, but I'm not optimistic. Unless she makes a mistake, we may never catch her.”

“She's had time to plan this out in detail. She gave us the tapes, and I can live with the deal we made with her. We'll catch her eventually. Just think of where this case was a year ago and you've got to appreciate the progress.”

“I can live with the deal as well. I didn't think all thirty murders could be solved. At least now we know the truth of what happened.”

“Will you take some advice?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Take a long vacation. When the VP autobiography is released,
you will be back in the middle of it. Take the time while you can. You've earned it. Sam and Rita have proven to me they're ready for a significant promotion. Leave them in charge so they get a taste of what it's like if they say yes.”

“I appreciate that, Arthur. They can handle the work. But I don't want to lose them; we work well together.”

“My word you won't. I'll just put more on your plate, and you'll need them carrying what you've got now. Your public profile leaped with these thirty arrests, and that press is nothing compared to what's coming when the autobiography comes out. You're going to be the personal favorite of the media, and I can guarantee the director is going to take advantage of that. Besides, you've got so much vacation time on the books, HR complains about it regularly. Use up some of that time and enjoy it.”

“Thanks, Arthur. I'll seriously consider it.”

Paul took the stairs down to the conference room. He had spoken with Ann a few times in the last weeks, but they had been hurried conversations between other meetings, updating her on how this massive case was going, keeping tabs on where she was at with MHI calls. He hadn't been home much, and she'd been pushing him to spend time with his family and to get some sleep when he did finally get home. There hadn't been much casual time together. A vacation would be a smart step. His personal life needed attention.

“Sam.”

“Right here, boss.” Sam stepped out of the war room, an audio cable being coiled around his arm to store away. Rita walked out a step behind him, carrying the extra chairs that had accumulated in the small room.

“The boss has practically ordered me to take a vacation.”

Sam grinned. “What are you still doing here then?”

“Leaving you and Rita working while I go be slothful seems like a lousy idea.”

Rita laughed. “Boss, we're famous. I haven't had to buy a
breakfast, lunch, or dinner since the arrests began. I'm having too much fun to want to take a vacation right now.”

“How did the meeting go with the legal task force chief?” Paul asked her.

“He'd love it if we caught the lady shooter so she could testify at the trials. Otherwise, his most interesting comment was a thank-you for having the case files organized and indexed. I like the guy, Paul. He's got a practical streak to go along with that legal degree.”

“Sam?”

“I'm as popular as Rita. I'll take the time once the snow begins to fall and I can get in some skiing.”

Rita returned the chairs to where they normally belonged. “There's no reason for you to stay, boss. The other cases on the board are being managed, and I'll keep an eye on them. Besides, when the boss is away, people relax, as they aren't trying to impress you. If you take a vacation, everyone will get a subtle version of a vacation too. You need to go see Ann.”

“That's what I was thinking. If you two want to do my job while I'm gone, I'll take more than a few weeks off.”

“We'll enjoy running this place. We've got your number if an emergency comes up.”

Sam nodded. “I'm with Rita. Go see Ann. Take a long vacation. You can come back rested and ready to handle the press for the VP's book, and we'll gladly take our vacations then and abandon you without a qualm.”

Paul grinned. “Thanks, both of you, I think.”

P
aul thought about Ann and where they were at while he fixed himself dinner. He knew the issues. She was very quiet. It took steady effort to get from her what was on her mind. She would find the social side of being a Falcon a major stress and an energy drain. She was very much an introvert, more so than he had thought. She wouldn't be comfortable having a family. He'd have to accept that. She was awake at night, and he'd have to figure out how to handle her ten p.m. to two a.m. fight against that nightmare.

But he was content with her. He liked her personality. He liked who she was. She loved God. People trusted her. She had earned that trust.

He carried his plate into the den. He called up the video and the pictures of Ann he had collected, scrolling through his favorites. He hadn't planned to make the decision today, but he realized he had made it. He knew her. He knew her secrets, he knew who she was. And he loved her. If Ann was going to be his wife, it was time to find out. It was time to press this to an answer. Waiting would not materially change the outcome.

He couldn't guess what Ann's decision would be. The reality was she hadn't decided. He'd have to bring her to the point of making a decision and hope it came out in his favor. The big
risk was a no, and as painful as it would be for him to hear, the larger risk was what it would be for her. She had put so much at stake with him. She had left the place of being single and content with it, to exploring the idea of marriage because he'd ask her to make that step. To say no would break her heart—and his. “God, don't let me make a mistake in how I handle this. Don't let me hurt her. However this ends, please don't let me hurt her.” He looked through the pictures, and he planned out how to proceed over the next few days.

“Hi, Ann.” He was pleased to catch her at home the next morning, working at her desk.

She turned to the screen and flashed a smile. “Hi.” Her expression turned puzzled. “You're not at your office? It's ten o'clock.”

“A vacation day.”

She stopped what she was working on to rest her chin in her hands. “I love that word. You need it. That sounds like a very smart move.”

“I'm going to the gym, then stopping at Falcons to let Jackie feed me. Then I thought I might come back home and spend part of my day interrupting yours.”

She grinned. “I like that plan.”

“I'll see you in about four hours then.”

“I'll be right here.”

Paul found a soda and settled in the den. He called Ann. The video came up and he had to grin. She'd been napping on the couch—he could see the pillow line on her cheek. “Hey, sleepy eyes.”

She covered a yawn and half laughed. “I crashed about an hour ago. It was a late night.” She ran her hand through her hair, messing it more than straightening it. Black was sound asleep in front of the couch. “The gym looks like it agreed with you.”

“It was nice to shake off a bunch of cobwebs. I like the job, but I could do without a repeat of the last few weeks. Lunch was wonderful. It was good to catch up with family, and I'm woefully behind on all the family news. Jackie said to say hi.”

Ann smiled. “I like your sister.”

“Go get something to drink, Ann, catch a shower, whatever you normally do to wake up. I'd like to have a conversation if you're interested.”

“I'd like that. I'll be back in about twenty minutes.”

She disappeared from the video. A few minutes later, Black rolled to his feet, shook his head to wake up, and went to find her. Paul smiled.

Ann returned in half an hour, towel-drying her hair and carrying a cold soda. “That's better. I'm awake.”

“Would you be willing to have a hypothetical conversation about the future?”

She lowered the towel, hesitating. “Could we put it off for a few weeks?”

“No.”

She cautiously sat down in her favorite chair and nodded. “Okay.”

“The assumption is we're married.”

She took a deep breath. “All right.”

“Where would you be comfortable living?”

“Wherever you are.”

“You could handle Chicago or New York?”

“I didn't say they would be my choice. I could be comfortable living there. There's a difference.”

“Would you still want to be the MHI?”

“No.”

He blinked. “No?”

“I'm not bringing murder into a marriage.”

“When did you decide that?”

“When you asked the question.”

“Change the job you have or give up being a cop entirely?”

“I wouldn't be a cop.”

“Ann, a pause, please. What just changed? You love being a cop.”

“If I'm married, something has to give. I can stop being a cop. I don't know how to stop being a writer. I wouldn't be able to shut off the story ideas. So I stop being a cop. Trying to have a marriage, be a cop, and write would kill me in a period of a few years. The wise thing to do is to not put myself into a situation I know I couldn't carry long term. You seem surprised at my answer. Why? You see the same thing I do. Did you think marriage wouldn't carry a cost for me?”

“I hadn't put it in that stark of terms.”

“You were thinking maybe it works if she doesn't travel as much. If she works homicide for the Chicago PD again, works with Kate again, it could fit. That simply moves around the pieces on the board, but it doesn't change the problem. There is only so much of me to go around. I won't make the decision to get married only to make a bad choice that puts the marriage under stress from the beginning. You don't need my income. I'm not indispensable as the MHI. You ever talk me into marriage, I retire as a cop.” She paused. “Want to stop your hypothetical conversation now?”

“No, not when I realize you're making that level of decision about this territory. I would offer that you're more than welcome to work for the FBI as a consultant and be curious about any murder on my desk.”

“I'd thought of that.”

“You would continue to write?”

“I would probably write more of my own fiction rather than do books about friends. Your family gets a fair amount of press interest, and it would become public knowledge I was writing books about friends. That would defeat the reason I have done the stories.”

“What do you think about having a family?”

“I think before we got married there would need to be an
agreement we would not have children. It's beyond what I could do. I think you've got a large family that is getting larger with every passing year, and there are enough children to care about, interact with, that the hole of not having our own could be partially filled. Being a mom is outside what I can stretch to do. You don't look surprised.”

“I had read you correctly.”

“I'm sorry for it, Paul, having to put you to the fact that I come without a family of your own. I know it's huge. It's not easy to say I can't do it. But I can't.”

“I'm sorry for it, but I do understand where you are at.” A moment of silence passed. “An easier one. How do we deal with the fact you're a committed night owl and I'm a very morning person?”

“You get your own breakfast and be reasonably nice about not waking me up in the morning. You want a pleasant wife, you let me sleep in. What's that smile?”

“The way you said it. Do we keep a schedule of events and make plans to attend or host gatherings?”

“You give me four months a year where you don't put anything at all on the schedule. The other eight I struggle through.”

“What else?”

“I get four hours a day and one week a month of solitude. You don't call me. I ignore the doorbell. I don't see another person.”

He blinked. “That's steep.”

She waited.

“You want to spend that solitude in our home or do you want a place you go to? Which of us leaves?”

“I'm flexible.”

“Okay.”

“No pushback?”

“You know what you need. I can accommodate it. If I have to, I'll buy another floor in the building and give you an apartment to go hide in.”

It was her turn to look stunned. And then she paled. “You really want me to say yes. You're not going to change your mind about this.”

“Breathe, Ann.” It was settling in with her that he really was going to ask her to marry him one day soon.

“Okay. I'm okay.”

“You're not, but it's adorable and another reason I love you, Ann.”

She paled even more. She wasn't at the point she was ready to say the words back, but she might be getting there.

“I'll call you tonight. I think you should go talk to Lovely.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “I think so too.”

He called her shortly after seven p.m. and watched as the video flickered and then stabilized, the audio bar turning green. “Hi, Ann.”

“Hi.” He heard a shyness in her voice he hadn't heard since their first conversations, and her smile was tentative. He wished he was there to give her a hug. Black pushed in beside her to see him. Ann wrapped her arm around the animal and laughed when he tried to lick the monitor.

“Hey, Black. No need to ask if he had a good time walking. Is that part of an evergreen tree plastered in his fur?”

“I'll be picking pine needles out of his coat for the next week. He went chasing a rabbit at full speed, and it could go under the tree and Black could not.” She held up a handful of pine needles. “He yelps when I pull them out of his fur. It's going to be an ice cream night at the pace it's going.”

She let the dog go, and Black retreated to his chew bone and attacked it with a vigorous shake of the head.

“You might have to cut his hair.”

“I may resort to it. We'll see. I needed something to keep me occupied, so I'm not sure if the rabbit wasn't Lovely's idea of a distraction.”

Paul smiled, suspecting she might be right. “I would like to have one more hypothetical conversation and get it finished.”