Page 60 of High Velocity

“I noticed that. I was going to ask you about it,” Ewing states. “Tell me what happened. From the beginning.”

Over the next twenty minutes, Jackson and I fill the sheriff in, telling him everything we know. I even shoot him the snapshots I took of the damage to Jackson’s truck, since those were taken prior to the fire. By now those footprints I photographed are probably covered by many others.

“Regardless of who the target was,” I observe. “Whoever set the fire did a piss-poor job of it.”

“Hmm,” Ewing hums his consent.

But Jackson brings up another possibility.

“Unless someone is toying with us,” he suggests. “Distracting us.”

Nineteen

Stephanie

“Let the boys take care of him.”

Alex drapes an arm around Ama’s shoulders and steers her down the hill, leading the way back to the ranch house. Janey hooks her arm through mine and we follow behind, with Pippa, her sister Nella, and Sloane herding the kids, while Jillian and Lucy bring up the rear, moving along any stragglers.

Part of me revolts at the gender-based division, but at the same time it feels right for Thomas to be looked after by “his boys.” If anything, it’s a show of respect to the end of a more traditional generation. Times may have changed, and we may have evolved beyond the gender bounds, but this farewell is not about us, it’s about Thomas, and the last respects paid to him.

The ceremony was a simple one with little fanfare, and just a few brief graveside blessings by a Baptist minister, who left right before us. Thomas wasn’t a churchgoer anymore, but he was apparently raised Baptist and met his wife at a church event seventy years ago.

I got a little teary-eyed as Jonas recounted his parents’ love story at the graveside, but couldn’t hold back the sob when he stated his pops was back where he belonged, in his mother’s arms.

The man was loved, no doubt about that. I can only hope when my time comes, I’ll have earned even just a fraction of the love and respect he was shown today. But I doubt my family would show me any—they haven’t cared enough to in life—and I only have a scant handful of people I can call friends. If I went today, I know Jackson would mourn me, Janey would, and maybe a few others would be sad, but there wouldn’t be many who’d even notice me gone.

If I’m honest with myself, I have to admit I haven’t made enough of an impression on people’s lives. Sure, I’ve helped take bad guys off the street, but most of what I do is anonymous to those whose lives it would have impacted. I live and breathe my work, a lot of which is working under the radar, and I’ve been hiding there. I’m good at what I do, but I’m not so sure anymore it’s what I want to spend my life doing.

“You’re quiet,” Janey observes, giving my arm a squeeze. “Are you all right?”

I nod and dart her a quick smile. “Yeah, just contemplating life and future, that’s all.”

She barks out a laugh as we climb up the porch steps.

“Is that all?” she teases before continuing on a more serious note, “Funerals have a tendency to encourage soul-searching, don’t they?”

“I’d already been doing the soul-searching, but I’m starting to draw some conclusions.”

“Oh?” She raises her eyebrows as she shoots me a look.

“I think I’m going to quit my job.”

The thought never fully formed until the words are already spilling from my mouth, but the relief I feel is instant. I know in my heart it’s the right thing to do. It feels like severing the ties on a toxic relationship, which is in essence what I’m doing.

I joined the Bureau to prove myself worthy to my family—to my father—but I think it’s safe to say that’ll never happen. Sad that it took me almost a decade and a half to realize that. Then I made a major mistake when I stumbled into a relationship with Vallard, a fellow agent, and have spent the years since trying to prove myself better than that lapse in judgment.

I’ve been spinning my wheels trying to be the person I think others want me to be, and I’m realizing I’ll never get there. Nor should I have to.

For most of my adult life my work has defined me, I thought that’s who I was. But if I’ve learned anything since coming here, it’s that the person behind that badge holds value by merit of who she is, not what she does. Jackson has shown me that, so have Janey and JD, and all the others who have welcomed and included me because of who I am, not what I do.

“You’re quitting your job?” Alex, who walked into the house ahead of us, turns around and asks.

I can feel a number of surprised eyes on me and suddenly feel put on the spot, even though I put myself there. I blurted it out without considering the consequences. Or the fact I probably should’ve talked to Jackson before anyone else. It’s a pretty big life decision that impacts my future, and I think we’ve reached a point in our relationship where those things should be discussed.

Still, the cat is out of the bag now.

“Yeah…I think so.”

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