Page 12 of One Final Target

“True, but you’ve still got Rick on your shoulders. Careful, he’s a heavy load to carry.”

“You sound like Dr. Roe.”

“Then you have two of us to listen to. Forgive yourself, Sam. Guilt will drag you down like concrete.” He pulled into Sam’s parking space.

Even though it was 10p.m. and he’d had a long day, Sam stayed seated. This was the core of his problem with Dr. Roe.

“You’re rife with grief over the loss of your partner. And in denial about the magnitude of grief. If you’re in a patrol car facing another life-threatening situation, I fear you will put yourself at unnecessary risk, subconsciously considering self-sacrifice as a way to assuage your guilt.”

Sam thought it was a doublespeak way to say that Roe feared he was suicidal.

“I’m working on it.” He got out of the car and headed for his front door, hoping George would drop it. He didn’t.

“Are you?” George asked as Sam stepped into his entryway and flipped on the light.

“I haven’t stopped praying.” He dropped his keys in their dish. “Sometimes I feel as if everything hits the ceiling.” He picked up his spare key, hoping to change the subject. “Here’s my spare key.I’d like you to have it, in case something happens or you need to get into the house for some reason.” He held the key out.

George took it. “Sure. One of these days I’ll talk you into a security system.”

Sam nodded. Walking into his living room, he sighed and fell back into his recliner.

George followed and sat on the couch. “You do know prayer is your first, best weapon, right?”

Sam sighed. The subject wasn’t going to be dropped, so he had to keep thinking and talking about it.

“I know the only place to go is to the Lord,” he said. “Sometimes I just feel like the widow pleading to the unjust judge who tries to ignore her.”

“The widow petitioned the judge for what she needed. I’m not sure you know what you need. In any event, God is not an unjust judge.”

“Fair enough. I’m okay, George. Don’t worry.”

“I won’t. I know how useless worry is.”

He looked around Sam’s new house and they chatted about lighter subjects. After George left, Sam was tired yet wound up. The “Rick on your shoulders” comment had stung.

“I’m not sure you know what you need.”

Sam didn’t even know what to think about his friend’s observations.

His thoughts kept falling on Jodie King. Having an inkling of what she was going through made him feel close to her, though they’d just met. But at the same time, meeting her stirred up the legion of if-onlys in his own scenario: if only he’d parked the car differently, if only he’d seen the drunk sooner, if only he’d been in the car and not Rick...

Working to stop himself from dwelling on the accident, he realized he’d been assigned to Smiley’s investigative team because his superiors didn’t know what to do with him. He’d been so vocal about how boring administrative work was, he was certain they figured the almost-cold IED investigation was “safe.” Only now he’d stepped into a hornet’s nest with a lot more happening than they bargained for. There was a lot of police work left on Jodie’s case, and he planned on being front and center.

Sam did what he’d told Jodie he wanted to do: he worked to put himself in the bad guy’s shoes.

She was right to think this was personal. The Feds didn’t see it the same way because there was no solid evidence singling out one person as the target. They had torn apart her life and the life of every team member, according to the forensic reports. Jodie King was a hard charger, a cop’s cop. She’d earned her rank and the prestige of leading RAT by being conscientious and thorough. She had garnered threats, but none rose to the ranks of credible as far as all the alphabet agencies were concerned. From what he’d read, they had tunnel vision about Hayes, with the CI Archie Radio, aka Jukebox, as an accomplice.

Maybe it wasn’t a criminal threat, Sam thought. Maybe it was much closer.

He shivered with an odd feeling. His mother called it the “someone walked across my grave” feeling. Somehow, someway, Jodie had affected this guy so much he’d gone to extraordinary lengths to kill her. He’d killed her team but wasn’t satisfied. This was a powerful, malignant hate.

Would Hayes have hated her so much? King was simply executing a warrant on him. A judge issued the paper. Hayes had been arrested before; he was familiar with the drill. If he did setthe IED to escape, well, he’d very nearly committed the perfect crime. Would he resurface three months later to again try to kill Jodie King?

It made no sense.

Jodie was the target of the IED three months ago, and she was still a target. A sniper setting up and shooting at hernowwas proof someone still wanted her dead.

Sam took in a deep breath and let it out slowly to calm down as a stark realization hit. Whoever wanted the woman dead knew her intimately and had a very personal score to settle.

---