Page 55 of The Grave Between Us
Cole slammed the phone down and grabbed his keys. He rushed to Noah’s office, shutting the door behind himself and collapsing against the wood. Noah, phone in his hand, initially frowned at the intrusion, but as he took Cole in, he hit mute on his call and set the receiver down. “What is it?”
“I think I’ve got a lead on Ian.” He forced himself to explain Kerrigan’s abduction, stumbling when he had to tell Noah Kerrigan had been at the same bed and breakfast they were at, looking at the same wedding venues, at the same time, on the same day. That Kerrigan had most likely been taken from there, and that the paper cranes had been a sign, Ian’s signature.
“A sign to who?” Noah asked softly, when Cole’s voice faded away. “No one thought the paper cranes were significant, except for you.”
“Exactly,” he hissed. “They were a signforme, Noah. Those cranes were for me. He was there. God, he was there with us, and I didn’t see it!” He turned away, facing the wall as he put his hands on his hips and stared at the carpet. “He was right there.”
Close enough to touch. Close enough Cole should have recognized him. He’d seen Ian in his nightmares for years, but those images were from eight years ago. How much had Ian changed since then? How had he disguised himself? To be able to be near Cole, so close he took a man right from under his nose?
“I’ve got to go out there. Search for evidence, for any sign of Kerrigan. I need to find something. If I can find something, we might be able to track Ian, and if we can track him, we can finally stop him.”
Noah nodded. “I’ll call BAU and report—”
“I already called it in.”
Noah blinked. “Oh,” he said. He took a deep breath. Held it. “Okay. Call me with what you find. We’ll work this together. And—” He stood and came around his desk to stand in front of Cole. “Be careful.” He took Cole’s face in his hands and tilted his chin up until their eyes met.
“I love you,” Cole whispered.
Noah kissed him. “I love you, too.”
Chapter Sixteen
“All right,I need dedicated workspace, someplace that I can secure,” Assistant Director Michael King bellowed as he strode into the Des Moines office, trailing five young agents behind him like ducklings. “I need cars. I need access to all of your files and your local interagency database.”
Noah came out of his office, frowning. His team rose as King kept shouting. He stopped at the break in the bullpen, beneath the welcome-back banner and the mostly empty box of doughnuts.
Assistant Director King was a legend in the FBI, not always for the best reasons. The Assistant Director in charge of the Behavioral Analysis Unit wasn’t going to be a warm, cuddly person, but King had earned a reputation for fierce belligerence, backed up by an awesome success rate. He could afford to be an asshole, unfortunately. He also had a reputation of bigfooting all over local offices when he and his team swooped in, sometimes at the local jurisdiction’s invitation, sometimes not. Noah hadn’t invited King to Des Moines, and Cole, no matter his history with King, worked for Noah now. Not King.
“Can I help you?” Noah asked, stepping in front of King. “I’m Special Agent in Charge—”
“Downing, yes, I know who you are.” King approached him, giving him a long, slow once-over, like he was profiling him in fast motion. “You know why I’m here. We’ve got a hot lead on this investigation, and we need to run it down now, so I need your full cooperation.”
“I’m happy to help you, Director, but barging in and barking orders isn’t how we do things here. My people are happy to work with you—”
“Let me be clear, Downing. I’m not working with you.”
Noah’s jaw dropped. He saw his team’s eyes widen, saw them glance at each other over the walls of their cubes.
“I’m commandeering workspace within your office. This is a director-level, eyes-only investigation, and none of you, with the exception of Cole Kennedy, have been cleared for this case.”
“This is my office. What happens here, I’m a part of. You can’t just come in here and take over. This case affects us personally.”
“Downing, I am briefing Director Harper on this case every hour, and my next briefing is in…” He checked his watch. “Thirty-seven minutes. Your name is going to be in that briefing, and I can say one of two things. One, SAC Downing was amazingly helpful, really pulled out all the stops to get us up and running with no hurdles, contributing to the success of this investigation. Or two, Downing was nothing but a hindrance, roadblocking me and playing political pissing games while lives hung in the balance. It’s entirely up to you what I say, but whatever you decide, the end result is going to be the same. I’m going to run my investigation my way, and you’re going to stay the hell out of it. So if you want to play games, it’ll be nothing but a waste of my time and a detriment to your career.” He checked his watch again. “Ticktock. Make your choice.”
Noah’s cheeks burned. He hadn’t been dressed down publicly since he was a recruit in the academy and made a foolish mistake on Hogan’s Alley that got his whole team shot and killed during their run-throughs. He’d deserved it then, but he didn’t deserve this. Not in front of his team, the people he led every day. He could feel his bones shriveling, alongside the urge to strike back, establish himself. This was his office, damn it. His people.
He clenched his teeth and spoke. “The conference room is the only room we have that’s big enough for what you need. Down the hall, on the right.”
“Good.” King nodded to the agents huddled behind him, sending them down the hall. They each carried file boxes and had three laptop bags slung over their shoulders. “I need cars. And access to your files.”
Noah grabbed a sticky note from Cole’s desk and wrote out the digits for the electronic lock on the file room and the password to the database the local law enforcement agencies maintained with the Des Moines FBI. “I’ll have someone pull a couple of cars out of the seizures for you.”
“And I need the Wi-Fi password.”
He pushed the sticky note against his palm and scribbled, pressing so hard the pen came through the paper and dug into his hand. He held it out silently.
King took the note, nodded, and marched down the hall. He was barking orders to his underlings before he hit the conference room door, ordering laptops be set up along one side of the table, maps and photos along one wall, charts and lists of names up on the windows. The door shut as he spoke, cutting off his voice, and a moment later, the blinds closed.
