Page 5 of Cold Threat

“And the little girl?”

Tony shrugged. “I have no idea. My dad wouldn’t talk about her. He tried hard not to bring the job home. I look back now and realize that he was frustrated about something, but my sisterand I were pretty young. We never really put two and two together. To be honest, he still tries to keep work on the other side of the front door at home. He must have been carrying this case with him all these years. It’s been a burden he hasn’t wanted to share... before now.”

“It must have been hard for him.” She smiled at Tony. “So even though your father tried to keep his job out of his home life, his son ends up working for the FBI? If he was trying to steer you away from law enforcement, I think he failed.”

Tony returned her smile. “Yes, he did. I idolized my dad and wanted to be like him. I hope I inherited something from him.”

“Well, if he’s incredibly talented, smart, kind, compassionate, and really good-looking...”

Tony swallowed hard. Is that what she thought of him? “Shucks, ma’am. I’m touched.”

River tapped her forehead. “Yeah, you’re touched, all right.”

“You’re a pill, you know that?”

“That’s my goal.” River laughed. “So the murders and arson were twenty years ago?”

Tony nodded. “Twenty-four.”

“And your dad is sixty?”

“Sixty-two. He was thirty-eight when it happened. My age. He joined the force when he was thirty-four.”

“Most people join in their twenties,” River said. “Why did your dad wait so long?”

Tony looked over at her. They told each other everything. Well, almost everything. She hadn’t heard this story yet. Would his aunt Sarah mind if he told River the real reason his father joined the force? He took a deep breath. “I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourself.”

River grinned at him. “Who would I tell? My mother, who won’t remember it? Or my mom’s cat, who isn’t talking?”

Tony smiled.

“Look,” River said, “if it’s personal, maybe you should ask your dad’s permission before sharing it with me.”

“It’s not my dad’s secret,” Tony said. “It’s my aunt’s.” He hated telling this story. It made him angry every time he did. “She’s my dad’s younger sister. She ... she was brutally raped when she lived in Des Moines. The rapist beat her within an inch of her life and left her for dead.” He sighed. “It was awful. We almost lost her. She recovered physically, but the emotional damage took longer. Thankfully, God walked her through it, and she recovered. Today she’s married and has two kids.” He shook his head. “She still deals with triggers, but many years ago she made the decision to not let that guy steal another moment of her life.”

“Please tell me they caught him.”

Tony nodded. “It took almost four years. Turned out he’d done the same thing to at least five other women. One of them died. He’s in prison and won’t ever get out. Sarah’s experience is the reason my dad became a police officer. He saw how vital the police are, and he wanted to be one of them. It was a good decision for him. He’s a great cop.” Tony shrugged. “My dad’s commitment to seeing justice done is the reason I joined the Bureau.”

“That’s awesome,” River said slowly.

“What are you thinking?” He knew her well enough to recognize that what he’d said had affected her. But why?

“Your reason for getting into law enforcement is so noble. I just likedCSIandCriminal Minds.” She grinned at him. “My mother didn’t want me to go into law enforcement. When I joined the police department and then went on to the FBI, it upset her quite a bit. I guess that was just a side benefit.”

Tony couldn’t help but laugh. River was nothing if not honest. But her attempt to minimize her commitment to finding justice for people who’d endured suffering at the hands of criminals fell on deaf ears. She’d been one of the most dedicated FBI agents he’d ever met. Her drive to help victims was still fierce. He respectedher more than anyone he’d ever met—except maybe his father. Actually, they were a lot alike.

As he approached a stoplight, he touched the brakes because he knew that the color displayed meant he was to come to a complete stop, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember the name of it. Although by the grace of God he’d survived after being shot by the Strangler, he was still saddled with numbness in his arm and his leg—and something called anomic aphasia. Sometimes he would forget things. Names of things. Numbers. Colors. For the most part, he kept the symptoms to himself, but River knew about his condition. She was very kind and compassionate about it—which almost made it worse. Not that he would ever tell her that. It felt like pity—something he hated. It was one of his weaknesses. As they waited for the light to change, the wordredpopped into his mind. That was it. Red.

When the light turned green, he put his foot on the gas pedal and wondered if he and River were too damaged to make a go of the detective agency they’d started because he couldn’t think of anything else to do.

Would this venture prove to them that they were no longer useful? That the Strangler had already destroyed them?

Time would tell.

CHAPTER

THREE

---