reached for her coffee as she glanced at the screen, then gasped. The cup fell from her nerveless hands, hitting the floor and splashing the burning liquid on her legs. She ignored the stinging pain as she focused on the image in front of her, trying to process what she was seeing.
No.
She shook her head, putting a fist to her mouth to contain the scream that clawed up her throat. No!
Leaning over, she retched into the trash can next to her desk. Suddenly Jerry was there, his hand on her back, his voice a buzzing drone in her ears.
“Ivan...”
She knew when Jerry saw the image by his sharp intake of breath. He reached out a hand, slamming down the lid of her computer. “Don’t look at that,” he said, his voice gruff.
She nodded, but it was too late. The image was burned into her brain. All she had to do was close her eyes to see Ivan, her friend and collaborator, lying in a pool of his own blood, the horrible words painted in jagged red script across his chest.
You’re next.
* * *
“Again!”
Thomas looked down into his niece’s smiling face and couldn’t help but grin in return. “Okay, but this is the last time.”
Emily watched in wide-eyed fascination as he pulled out his badge and flashed it at her. “Freeze!” he said in his best tough-guy voice. She dissolved into a fit of giggles, nearly crumpling to the floor in hysterics. Her reaction would have worried a lesser man, Thomas mused as he bent to scoop her up. Still, as long as he didn’t have to bust a five-year-old girl anytime soon, he was probably intimidating enough to do his job.
“Let’s go, squirt. We’re gonna be late.”
She let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine,” she said in the tone of a long-suffering victim.
He set her on the floor with a pat on the shoulder. “Go kiss your mom goodbye, but be quiet so you don’t wake her.”
Emily ran down the hall, slowing as she approached her mother’s bedroom. She carefully pushed open the door and entered on tiptoe. Thomas smiled as he watched her golden ponytail disappear into the dark room, then turned to press a kiss to his mother’s temple. “Have a good day, Ma.”
“You, too, dear.” She patted his cheek. “Be safe today.”
“Always.”
Emily reappeared, closing the door with exaggerated care. “I’m ready,” she said as she approached Thomas.
He handed her the pink-sequined backpack, let her struggle into it on her own. He’d made the mistake of trying to help her once, and the resulting fit had drawn Jenny from her bedroom. His sister-in-law worked nights at the hospital and needed her sleep, and she hadn’t been happy about being roused after only an hour of rest to calm down her hysterical daughter.
“Bye, Nana.” She reached up to hug his mother, who bent with effort to wrap her arms around the girl. She was moving slower and slower these days, but she still insisted everything was fine. He supposed it didn’t take much effort to watch Emily at night while Jenny worked, but even so, he worried about her health.
“Goodbye, sweet girl. Have a great day at school.”
Emily let out another sigh. “I’ll try.” She reached up to take Thomas’s hand, leading him out of the apartment.
“Is everything okay at school, Em?” They walked down the stairs together, hand in hand, her eyes on the floor while she carefully navigated the steps.
“I guess.”
“Is anyone bothering you?”
“No.”
“Do you like your teacher?” he pressed. The FBI had courses on the best methods to use when interrogating children, but he hadn’t taken any of them since most of his investigations focused on adults. Now, faced with a recalcitrant niece, he wondered if maybe he should sign up for the next session.
Emily shrugged as he opened the passenger door. “She’s okay.” She climbed into the car, wriggling out of her backpack and setting it on the floor before reaching for the seat belt.
He slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. “It just seems like you don’t want to go to school.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to tell me why?”
He pulled into traffic, giving her time to think about her response. The silence went on for so long that he was about to ask her again when she said quietly, “I miss my dad.”
His heart clenched at the admission. He reached for her hand, gave it a squeeze. “I miss him, too, sweetie.”
Roger, his brother, had died in a car accident six months ago, but the details of that horrible day were never far from his mind. The afternoon phone call from his mother. The frantic drive to the hospital. The stale waiting-room coffee as they huddled together, waiting to hear if the doctors had worked a miracle. Jenny’s piercing scream when the surgical team walked over, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched. And Emily’s pale, tear-streaked face after he told her the earth-shattering news.
Roger’s death had left a gaping hole in Jenny and Emily’s lives, one that Thomas had tried to patch, albeit with limited success. While he never wanted to replace her father, he did want Emily to have a male presence in her life, a man who loved her unreservedly and without question. He had begun taking her to school in the weeks after Roger’s death, stepping into the role Roger had performed so well. At first, Emily had been reserved and tearful, but she’d gradually begun to warm up to seeing him more often, and he treasured their mornings and the routine they had built. It was a small but important step on the path of healing.
But it was a bumpy road, as evidenced by Emily’s quivering lip. “All the other kids have dads,” she said in a wobbly voice. “I don’t understand why mine had to die.”
“I don’t either, love. Nobody understands it.” He ached to pull her into his lap for a hug, but contented himself with holding her hand as he kept his focus on the road. From the corner of his eye, he could see her lips press together in a pale line and knew she was trying hard not to cry. My sweet, brave girl.
She was quiet for the rest of the drive. He didn’t press her to talk—he wanted to be a safe place for her, and if he pestered her, she would withdraw from him. He pulled up to the curb in front of the school, then turned to face her.
“Try to have a good day, Emmycakes.” It was his pet nickname for her, a play on her name and patty-cake, her favorite game as a little one. The name never failed to make her smile, and it didn’t disappoint now.
She grinned up at him, her earlier sadness cast off like a discarded coat. “I will. You, too, Uncle Thomas.”
He smiled at her serious tone. “I’ll do my best,” he assured her.
She leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek, then climbed carefully out of the passenger seat. He watched while she made her way
