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"You should come work for me, Shirley, a sharp mind like that."

She laughs. "Oh, no thank you. Too tame for me. This job is a lot more dangerous."

I grin back, and open the door. I close it behind me. AD Jones is sitting at his desk, and he's giving me a keen-eyed once-over. He seems to see something he approves of, and nods to himself.

"Take a seat." Once I am sitting, he leans back. "I got a call from Dr. Hillstead about ten minutes ago. He gave you a pass to return to full, active duty. That what you're here to see me about?"

"Yes. I'm ready to come back to work. But I have a proviso: I want to run Annie's case."

He's shaking his head. "I don't know, Smoky. I don't think that's a good idea."

I give him a shrug. "Then I quit. I'll go private and keep looking for them that way."

AD Jones looks like he is trying to keep his jaw from falling open. He also looks pissed. Volcano, H-bomb pissed. "You're giving me an ultimatum?"

"Yes, sir."

He continues to glare at me, shock and anger battling for dominance. Both disappear in a sudden flash. He shakes his head. A hint of a smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. "Pretty good hardball there, Agent Barrett. And okay. You're back, it's your case. Keep me in the loop."

That's it. He's dismissing me, telling me to get back to work. I stand up to leave.

"Smoky."

I turn to him.

"Get these motherfuckers."

* * *
* * *
* * *

Back at Death Central, Callie and James are waiting. They know something is up. I realize that this is a critical moment for them, for all of my team. A place where life might change forever. I should have told them when I came in, but I wasn't sure, not a hundred percent, that AD Jones was going to let me run Annie's case. I'd been serious about quitting if he hadn't.

"I'm going to drop Bonnie off with Elaina, Callie." She raises her eyebrows. James looks at me, questioning. "I've kept my word. I'm back."

He nods once, no other questions asked. Callie's face is filled with relief and happiness. I'm glad to see it, but I'm also a little bit sad. I wonder if she thinks things are going to go back to the way they were. I hope not. Things will be good again, yes. Working with my team will be rewarding, as always. But we are older now. Harder. Like the undefeated team who loses their first game, we have learned that we are not invulnerable, that we can be hurt. Even die.

I am changed too. Will they notice that? If they do, will it make them happy, or sad? What I said to Dr. Hillstead is true. I'm done being a victim, but that does not mean that I'm the same Smoky Barrett I used to be.

It was an epiphany that came to me at the shooting range. Like a voice from the God I don't believe in. I realized that I will never love again. Matt was the love of my life, and he is gone. No one will ever replace him. This is not fatalism or depression. It is a certainty, and it brought me a kind of peace. I will love Bonnie. I will love my team. Other than that, I will have only one love now, and it will define the rest of my life: the hunt.

I held the Glock in my hands, and I realized it right there, right at that very moment. I am not a victim, not anymore. Instead, I have become the gun. For better or worse, till death do us part.

24

I LOOK AT Bonnie before we get out of the car. "You doing okay, honey?"

She gazes back at me with those too-old eyes. Nods.

"Good." I ruffle her hair. "Elaina is a very, very good friend of mine. She's Alan's wife. You remember Alan? You met him on the plane."

Nod.

"I think you'll like her a lot. But if you don't want to be here, you just let me know, and we'll figure something else out."

She cocks her head at me. Seems to be weighing the truth of my words. She smiles and nods. I grin back at her. "Great."

I look in the rearview mirror. Keenan and Shantz are parked in front of the house, ever-present. They know that I'm leaving Bonnie here and that they'll be staying. This almost makes me feel safe about leaving her. Almost.

"Let's go, babe."

We get out of the car and go up to the house, ring the doorbell. After a moment, Alan answers. He looks better than he did on the plane, but still tired. "Hey, Smoky. Hey, Bonnie."

Bonnie looks up at him, examining him by staring straight into his eyes. He bears this with the gentle-giant patience that he personifies, until she gives him a smile that is her equivalent of a thumbs-up. He smiles back. "Come on in. Elaina's in the kitchen."

We enter, and Elaina's head pokes around a corner. Her eyes light up at the sight of me, and it squeezes my heart. This is Elaina. She glows with kindness.

"Smoky!" she cries, rushing toward me. I let myself be embraced by her, return the hug.

She steps back, holding me at arm's length, and we examine each other. Elaina is not as short as I am, but at five foot two she's a dwarf in comparison to Alan. She is incredibly beautiful. Not in a way that stuns you, like Callie; her beauty is a combination of the physical mixed with pure personality. She is one of those women whose depth and goodness texture her entire presence, making you yearn to be near her. Alan summed it up once in a single simple sentence: "She is Mom."

"Hey, Elaina," I say, smiling. "How are you?"

A brief twinge of something appears deep in her eyes, disappears. She kisses me on the cheek. "Much better now, Smoky. We've missed you."

"Me too," I say. "I mean, I've missed you guys."

She looks at me for one meaningful moment, nods. "Much better,"

she says. I know she means me. She turns to look at Bonnie and hunches down so they are face-to-face. "You must be Bonnie," she says. Bonnie looks at Elaina, and it is a moment suspended in time. Elaina just sits there, exuding love in her wordless, unconscious way. It's a force of nature all its own, a power people like Elaina have. Something made to beat down the barriers that pain can erect around the heart. Bonnie freezes. Her body shudders, and something undefined goes shivering across her face. It takes me a moment to place that something, and when I do, pain jolts through me like a lightning strike. It's suffering and yearning, deep and dark and soulful. Elaina's love is powerful. It is raw and elemental. It is not something to fuck with; it takes no prisoners. And it has cut into Bonnie like a knife made of sunlight, cut deep and exposed her hidden pain. All in an instant. Just like that. I watch Bonnie lose an internal battle, watch as her face crumples against her will, and watch as silent tears begin to pour down her cheeks. Elaina holds out her arms, and Bonnie rushes into them. Elaina gathers her up, hugs her close, strokes her hair, croons in that mixture of English and Spanish I remember so well.

I am dumbstruck. A lump fills my throat, demanding tears. I fight it back. I glance at Alan. He's fighting too. The reasons are the same for both of us. It's not just Bonnie's pain. It's Elaina's kindness, and Bonnie's instant understanding that Elaina's arms are a safe place to be if something hurts.

This is who she is. She is Mom.

The moment seems to hang forever.

Bonnie pulls away, wiping her face with her hands.

"Better now?" Elaina asks.

Bonnie looks at her and gives a tired smile in answer. It's not only her smile that's tired. She just wept out some part of her soul, and it exhausted her. Elaina strokes her cheek with one hand. "You sleepy, baby?"

Bonnie nods, her eyes blinking. I realize she is falling asleep on her feet. Elaina gathers her up in her arms without another word. Bonnie's head falls against her shoulder and, just like that, she's out. It was something magic. Elaina had sucked the pain out of her, and now she could sleep. I'd slept that night at the hospital too, after her visit. The first sleep I'd had in days.