Page 89 of A Deeper Darkness
Sam felt the first beginnings of fear flutter in her stomach, but tried to keep her voice steady for Eleanor’s sake.
“Eleanor, she’s probably just asleep.”
“I should run out to the house.”
“Why don’t we save some time? I can ask Detective Fletcher to have someone check on her for you. That way you won’t have to wrangle the girls or anything.”
“Can they do that?”
“Sure. I’ll ask him right now. I’ll call you back once they get there.”
“Thank you, dear. I’m just a little worried about her.”
You and me both,Sam thought.
She hung up and looked over at Fletch. “Can you have someone do a welfare check on Susan Donovan? She didn’t show up at Eleanor’s last night.”
Fletcher knitted his brows. “That’s not good.” He got on the cell and called Roosevelt, asked him to have the Fairfax County police do a run-by.
“Thank you,” she said when he hung up. “Hopefully she’s just still asleep. I know how hard it was for her yesterday.”
“You’re welcome.” Fletcher cleared his throat. His eyes flitted to hers, then away, out the window, then back. “Sam, maybe this isn’t the time…. I hate to say this, but I looked you up online. I saw the story about your husband and kids. I just wanted to say, I’m sorry. Really sorry.”
Sam froze. She didn’t want to go there with him. Nashville, the flood, their deaths, felt a million miles away, and then intruded back into her world with a suddenness that took her breath away.
She didn’t have a voice. What would she say?Yes, Fletch, they’re all dead, and that’s okay? It’s great that you were doing background on me?Instead, she opened her purse and brought out her antibacterial gel, poured some in her hands and started to rub.
“I’ve seen you do that a few times now…. You have OCD, don’t you?”
“Jesus, Fletch. What is this, the inquisition?”
She felt sorry for the outburst immediately. He was just trying to make friends. Like a little puppy who doesn’t know his boundaries and kept licking at her legs.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up. My mistake.” His voice had cooled. Now he was mad at her. She huffed and stared out the window. They were getting close, she saw the exit for Frostburg. They needed to work together, so she swallowed her pride and put the gel away.
“Yes, I have OCD. Yes, my family died in the floods. But neither of those things have any bearing on me being here now. They aren’t affecting my judgment. So don’t worry about it. Okay?”
“It’s been two years. Maybe—”
“Come on, Fletch. Am I interrogating you about your ex-wife? This is private. It’s my business. So please, just stop.”
“I’m not interrogating you, Sam. I’m trying to get to know you. Let me amend that. I’d like to get to know you. If you’d let me.”
Shit. Here it was. She knew this was coming. She thought she’d sent enough signals that she didn’t want to go there. Obviously she was out of practice. But she needed to end this right now, before he actually got interested. And keep him from booting her out on the side of the road.
“Fletch, it’s not you. I’m not in any shape to be known. Okay? Please, let’s just dangle me out as bait for Whitfield, capture him and then I’m heading home. I’ve overstayed my welcome, I believe. I have responsibilities back in Nashville.”
She didn’t realize until she said it that she meant every word. She had no business still being in D.C. She’d come to do a job: a secondary autopsy on a homicide victim. That job was well-past done, and where was she now? In a car with a smitten homicide detective on her way to try and help capture a possible murderer. This was ridiculous. She was not a detective. What in the world did she think she was doing?
The wall of Donovan’s office swam into her mind, the picture of the five men, the band of brothers, atop the words that bound them together. They weren’t forced to be strong, to exhibit their rare brand of courage. They did it because it was right, and just, and good. They volunteered to be the courage for the rest of us. They volunteered to fight so we wouldn’t have to.
They weren’t feeling sorry for themselves. They took an oath, and they lived by a creed.Never shall I fail my comrades…. Readily will I display the intestinal fortitude required to fight on to the Ranger objective and complete the mission though I be the lone survivor.
Right now, Xander Whitfield was the lone survivor.
And so was Sam.
Shame overcame her. Donovan deserved better. He deserved someone who believed in him, who’d fight for him to the death. That’s why Eleanor had called her. She knew, better than Sam did, the depth of emotion that ran between them. Even apart, even in death, there was a connection. A link. Eleanor knew that Sam would find a way.
