Page 81 of Valor on the Move
“This wasn’t the way, Al. How could you ever think it was?” The anger had drained out of him. Shane wanted to curl up and sleep, and wake to find the world the way it had been that morning, before he knew this terrible truth. “I know it isn’t fair that Jessica died. That Dylan has the same disease. It isn’t fucking fair. And it isn’t fair that the insurance company wouldn’t pay. But this wasn’t the way. This was never the way.”
“It was only supposed to be me who died,” Alan insisted, fresh tears staining his face. “It was supposed to be me.”
The nurse marched in. “That’s enough. Sir, you’re leaving. Now. Do I need to call security?”
Shane could only shake his head.
Alan reached out. “Please.”
Despite it all, Shane found himself taking Alan’s grasping hand.
“I’ll tell them everything.” He looked to the nurse anxiously. “It was me. It wasn’t Shane. He had no idea.”
Frowning, she pressed a button on the IV. “All right. Time to rest.”
“Tell Valor I’m sorry.” Alan’s eyes were already glassy as the morphine spread through his system, but he clutched Shane’s hand with surprising strength. “And be careful when you’re with him. Or everyone will see.”
Shane lowered Alan’s hand to the mattress, and his eyes drifted to the framed picture. It had been Christmas, with the glowing tree behind them and wrapping paper strewn at their feet. Jules and her bright smile, tucked under Alan’s arm, and a Santa hat on his head. The kids stood in front of them, Jessica in footie pajamas, proudly showing off the gap between her teeth, and little Dylan clapping, his cheeks red from the excitement.
“I’m sorry, but you really have to leave now.” The nurse motioned to the door.
Alan was sleeping already, his chest rising and falling steadily, lips parted. Part of Shane wanted to dig in his heels and wait until Alan woke, because there should have been so much more to say—more hurt and fury to vent. But Shane found he’d said enough after all.
He shuffled down the hallway to where Nguyen and Harris waited. As he neared and opened his mouth, Nguyen spoke first.
“We got it all, Kendrick.” She nodded grimly. “Good work.”
Harris clapped a hand on his shoulder, his face drawn and sorrowful. “It’s a hell of a thing, Shane.”
Shane stood there blinking, utterly drained. He wasn’t sure where they’d hidden the camera, but he should have known. Of course they’d suspected. At least it was done.
Harris squeezed his shoulder. “Go home and get some rest.”
“Are you going to tell Valor before he finds out in the news?”
“Of course,” Harris answered. “And he’s extremely eager to see you again—wants to thank you. Maybe later tomorrow, okay? He’s been like a dog with a bone, telling everyone that you saved him and had nothing to do with the kidnapping.” He chuckled. “Never seen the mouse so forceful. But he sure wants to see you. Nice to have a grateful protectee, huh?”
Not trusting his voice, Shane nodded. As he took the elevator down to meet a waiting G-ride, he leaned back against the wall. Despite it all, he couldn’t stop the glimmer of a smile.
Walking back into Castle, Shane felt like it had been weeks instead of what—four days since he and Alan had raced out after Rafa? When he’d woken in the morning, for a moment he hadn’t remembered. Then the sick sensation—dread and grief—had settled in again as what Alan had done returned to him.
Now he walked the same path he’d taken that first day with his friend at his side, past the West Wing, and through the Palm Room into the main residence. He wasn’t on duty, so he wore his suit without his badge, handcuffs, or replacement pistol. Other agents nodded sympathetically, and staff whispered and stared. Harris and Nguyen stood outside the Secret Service office in the residence basement.
Nguyen asked, “How are you doing, Kendrick?”
“Okay, I guess. Still hard to believe any of this is real.”
She nodded. “I hear you. At least Pearce is cooperating. They’ve put him on suicide watch, and the charges will be filed later this week. He’s telling us what he knows about the Chechens. Seems it was a small splinter group that approached him. The FBI is taking over that part of the investigation.” She sighed. “I suppose a dying kid makes for a desperate father. He told us he had a two-week window for the kidnapping. If the pop-up hadn’t happened, there would have been an ambush next week.”
“What will happen to his wife and son?” Shane asked. “The medical bills?”
Her expression regretful, Nguyen shook her head. “I don’t know. Pearce’s employment is obviously terminated, effective immediately. He’s left his family in a bad situation, to say the least.”
Shane had tried calling Jules, but there had been no answer at the house. He’d called a few times and finally left a message simply saying he was sorry and that he wanted to help. She and Dylan didn’t deserve to suffer because of Alan’s desperate choices, but they undoubtedly would, and it didn’t feel like there was anything Shane could do about it.
