Page 208 of The Archer Brothers

CHAPTER6

CARA

As soon as Nate leaves for work, I stand in our bedroom and face the mirror. My eyes focus on my mid-section and not the bags under my eyes or my breasts. They’re sore and even thinking about them makes them hurt more. I rest my hand over my belly—for what or why, I’m unsure. I’ve seen countless women do this in movies and TV and have always wondered why. Am I meant to feel different knowing there’s something . . .? I can’t bring myself to say baby. I don’t know if it’s fear or what. Or if by calling it what it really is, I’m accepting my fate, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.

Nate, though, that man is cut from a different cloth. I can see it in the way he looks at me, waiting for me to tell him my decision. He’s patient and unbelievably kind when I’m being the cruelest woman to him. He deserves to be a father, and if I’m not the one to provide him with the life he desires, then maybe we need to take a step back from our relationship.

My hand goes to my heart, and I cry out. The pain of losing Nate is too much. He’s the love of my life, and the last thing I want to do is live without him. “Then why do you hesitate, Cara?” I ask myself in hopes my reflection can give me an answer, but I only see pain and longing. Love and anguish. No matter what I decide, the decision is life-altering.

The mirror will not tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, nor will my head. My heart holds the answer, and right now, it’s not guiding me. I give up the staring contest, head into the bathroom, and dress in my standard black slacks with my holster and gun on my hip, white button-down, and black sport coat. The FBI doesn’t have a dress code, which I’m thankful for, but I can’t seem to get this through my head. I can wear just about anything I want, but this is what I opt for. It’ll be interesting to see what my team decides to wear. I’m definitely not going to be the type of boss that enforces a dress code. I want my team to be as comfortable as possible, especially given the nature of what we look at daily.

My drive to work takes about thirty minutes. Today, when I pull up to the guard station and show him my ID, I’m greeted with, “Good morning, Special Agent Hughes,” and when I go inside the building, it’s the same. It’s like the staff studied my face to make sure I felt welcomed on my first day. They did a good job.

The other day when Special Agent in Charge Trey showed me my workspace, it was dark and quiet, and when I walk in now, there’s some life. Agents Skinner and Turner are at their desks, while Agent Granger stacks boxes in the corner.

I observe them for a moment before saying, “Good morning.”

The three of them stop and look before greeting me. It will take us a couple of days to figure each other out, but I’m confident we’ll work together nicely.

“Mary will be in shortly,” Jess Turner says.

“Mary?”

“She’s our analyst,” Hank Granger states. “One of the best. She specifically asked for this assignment.”

“Why would anyone ask for this?” I say aloud.

“Because someone took her sister, and she’s made it her mission to find her,” Jess says.

“When was this?” I don’t know why I ask or even need to know, but Mary could be a liability if she’s only here to find her sister.

Pamela Skinner clears her throat. “It’s been a few years now. Her sister disappeared from Fort Carson.”

Another military disappearance?

Pamela’s words give me pause. Part of me wants to believe there’s a connection even without seeing the case. The logical part of me says it’s a coincidence, but I’m not even sure I think that. It seems odd. However, half a million people go missing every year, and I don’t necessarily believe in coincidences.

“Well, it’ll be good to have someone passionate on the job.”

“She’s honestly the best,” Jess says.

I nod then head up the stairs to my office. On my desk sits a box, and along the wall, there are three more. These, coupled with the ones already in the pit, make my stomach turn. I’m afraid to lift the lids to see the horror of what lies in the cardboard, but I have no choice. It’s my job to look at the good, the bad, and the repulsive.

Instead of looking inside the boxes, I take the one from my desk and carry it to the pit. “Agent Granger, there are three more in my office, if you don’t mind grabbing them.”

“Why do you have them in your office?” Pam asks.

“I don’t know, but I think we’re about to find out.”

Hank and Jess grab the remaining boxes and stack them with the others. I count ten of them, and my heart drops. I wish I could say there are only ten cases we need to solve or go through to find the sex ring, but the likelihood is that those boxes hold multiple victims' files.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“I thought the same thing when I first saw them,” Granger says.

“This isn’t all of them either,” Jess says as he hangs up the phone. “We have more coming up.”

“Double fuck,” I say a bit louder this time.

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