Flawless (12 page)

“May I think about it?” Kieran asked.

“There's not really time for that, I'm afraid. Or not entirely. You don't have to speak to anyone if you don't want to, but the girl you saved—Shirley Martin—has been released from the hospital and is on her way here. We've arranged for limited media access, and the police are providing security,” Dr. Miro said.

Kieran wished she'd thought to call in sick and considered claiming illness now.

But a second later Jake rushed in. “They're here. You really are a big deal, Kieran. Way cool.”

Despite every instinct inside her screaming that she should run, she wound up out in the crowded reception area, where Shirley Martin—adorable, but quite clearly determined to make this a step on her path to fame and fortune—thanked her, as did a very attractive young man who was an assistant to an assistant at the mayor's office. To Shirley's credit, Kieran thought she was sincerely grateful, but she also played up the fact that she had almost died and seemed to think she might as well make use of the terror she had endured.

Kieran reiterated yet again that any decent human being would have offered a hand.

Eventually they all left, but not before she was given a huge bouquet of flowers from the attractive assistant to the assistant and a repeat of the heartfelt thanks of her city.

Jake, Dr. Fuller and Dr. Miro beamed at her.

“Um, do we have any real work to do today?” Kieran asked.

“I have to be over at Rikers in an hour,” Dr. Fuller said.

“I have a deposition,” Dr. Miro said. Then she sighed. “Come on, Kieran. Just let us bask in the knowledge that we hired you, and that makes us good judges of character.”

“Thank you,” Kieran said. “And?”

“And what?” Dr. Fuller asked.

“What would you like me to do?”

“Oh, right. You're going to be interviewing a young woman who's out on bail,” Dr. Miro said. “She's coming here under police escort.”

“What did she do?”

“She pulled a Lorena Bobbitt,” Dr. Fuller said. “Hacked it off in the middle of the night. Husband is alive, and it's been sewn back on. We need to know if there was abuse, or if she was just pissed off because he was sticking it somewhere else.”

“Dr. Fuller! How professional,” Dr. Miro chastised.

“Hey. It is what it is,” Dr. Fuller said. Then he looked at his Rolex. “She's not due for another few hours, and
you
are due an extended lunch.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I'll just take it in my office.”

There was no way in hell she was going out on the street right now. She was going to text Kevin, since he would be bouncing around in his commercial shoot right now and wouldn't have his phone on him. She was going to tell him that he was picking her up at the end of the day. She wasn't leaving this office alone.

Great. Now she was paranoid about leaving work.

When Jake was back in reception, the doctors had returned to their offices and she was alone at her own desk at last, she sent her text and sat back.

Free time. She actually had free time. She could pull out the book she'd been reading, the newest in a fantasy series she loved. No, she'd lost the concentration to read.

She just sat at her desk and wondered again if the man in the hoodie had pushed that girl last night—and if he'd intended to push her instead.

And if so...

Why?

CHAPTER
SEVEN

CRAIG AND MIKE
spent the day going over witness reports and video from the robberies, convinced that the killers were still out there. Biding their time.

They were probably waiting to hear that the four men who had been caught were being charged with murder.

Late that afternoon, Eagan had called a press conference and reported painfully that the police were still actively seeking the persons who had robbed two jewelry stores in New Jersey and murdered two people. He asked for vigilance and warned that the people they were seeking were armed and highly dangerous, but he also asked people not to panic.

Craig was about to call it a day when Mike appeared in his office doorway.

“You gotta see this!” Mike said.

“What?”

“News replay. You can pull it up on your computer. Search for ‘New York City's superhero.'”

Craig typed, and up popped Kieran in the ultramodern foyer of the offices of Fuller and Miro, surrounded by people and standing next to the girl she'd saved the night before. She was calm and polite but brief in her answers, all the while looking as if she wanted to be somewhere, anywhere, else. The interview, such as it was, ended, and the reporter turned to the camera. “There you have it, folks. A new motto for the city of New York. ‘Any decent human being would offer a hand.' Words we should all live by here in the Big Apple.”

After that Kieran got flowers, and Shirley Martin informed the reporter that she'd been asked in for several auditions and was sure she was on her way. She was clearly relishing her fifteen minutes, while Kieran was quite clearly shrinking from hers.

“She looks miserable, doesn't she? The good thing is her fame is about to dim. Eagan's revelation that we haven't caught the killers after all will take precedence.”

“Yeah, that's a good thing.” Craig knew he didn't sound convincing.

“What's wrong?”

“I don't know, Mike. Did you watch the subway footage?”

“I did. With you, remember? And, yes, we all wonder about the guy in the hoodie.”

“But was he intending to push Kieran Finnegan?”

“Why would he have wanted to do that?”

“Maybe he thinks she knows something.”

“Like what? Sure, she was there when we caught the thieves, but what would that have to do with the killers who are still out there?”

Craig shook his head. “I don't know.”

“Think maybe the killers are mad because they know it's partly down to her that we know they're still out there? Eagan said in his press conference that our computer techs acted on a tip from a witness when they proved that the men we have in custody didn't murder anyone. It's pretty obvious that she's the witness he meant. Still, I don't see why anyone would be after her for that.”

“I just have a hunch, you know?”

Mike shrugged and then smiled. “A hunch? Or more?”

“What do you mean?”

Mike laughed. “Hey, the freakin'
air sizzles when the two of you so much as look at each other.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Craig said, immediately defensive.

“She saved your life.”

“It was a water pistol.”

“Might not have been.” Mike smiled. “Hey, what's not to like? The woman's gorgeous
and
smart, and she's given the whole city a motto to live by.”

“She's a victim and a witness,” Craig said.

“And you're worried about her. Not a bad thing. And we're investigating, though I'm not sure how we can stretch our investigation to include Finnegan's on Broadway.”

“There's something, Mike. Something she's hiding. Hell, maybe it's something to do with that pub.”

“You're suspicious of
her
?”

“Not suspicious, exactly,” Craig said. “There's just...something.”

“Then go get her, dude.” Mike looked at his watch. “Quitting time—and tomorrow's going to be a long one.”

In the morning they would be going back to Rikers and interviewing the four thieves again. They'd try to discern if one of them might know who had gotten wind of them, and how, and decided to imitate them, with lethal consequences.

“Yeah,” Craig said, rising. “I'll do that. I'll go get her. She may need rescuing again.”

“From evil forces.”

“I don't think the press likes to be referred to as an ‘evil force,'” Craig said. “But, yes, I'm going to go and rescue her from the press.”

* * *

In her quest to fulfill her life's dream, Shirley Martin was thrilled with her moment of fame.

In her quest to fulfill
her
life's dream, Kieran was plagued by it.

Officers escorted Tanya Lee Hampton to Kieran's office exactly on time. Kieran introduced herself and welcomed the woman, ready to let her talk, but also ready to ask questions that might uncover any underlying truth Tanya was unwilling to reveal.

Things didn't start off well.

Tanya was dark haired, young and pretty—and voluptuous. She eyed Kieran curiously as she sat down. “You're her!” she said.

“Her?”

“The ‘Subway Savior.'”

“Yes, I'm afraid so,” Kieran said ruefully. “Are you uncomfortable speaking with me?”

“Hell, no—it's exciting.” Tanya's eyes widened. “Did you leap right down onto the tracks? Could you hear the train coming? Did you, like, throw her over your shoulder or something?”

“I gave her my hand, just like any decent person would have done.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Tanya said, sighing and sinking back into her chair. “I guess a decent person wouldn't have hacked off her husband's tallywhacker, huh?”

“Why did you do it, Tanya?”

Kieran was surprised when the woman's demeanor changed. She'd been almost nonchalant, even rebellious, at first. Suddenly something was different.

“Tanya?” she asked softly.

Tanya just shook her head. “I couldn't take it anymore.”

“Take what? My report says that he was seeing other women. Do you mean you couldn't take the fact that he cheated on you?”

“Whatever,” Tanya said, looking away.

“So that
wasn't
it?”

The woman winced, looking down. Then she met Kieran's eyes again. “It was big, you know. Like...huge. He loved to brag about it.”

“I see,” Kieran said.

“No, no, you don't,” Tanya said, and of course she was right.

And then Kieran suddenly knew. “He hurt you with it, didn't he? With sex. Did he force you?”

Tanya looked startled. “Yeah, and I know it's rape if a guy forces his wife. But...”

“But?”

“It wasn't just that,” Tanya said, sounding as if she was barely breathing.

“What?”

“It was the things—the things he did with it.” Tanya was silent for a long moment, looking near tears. “The places...on me...he forced it. I couldn't bear it anymore. I couldn't take it. I couldn't leave—no job and two kids. And I couldn't—I couldn't take the pain. I'm not stupid—I'm not well educated, but I'm not stupid. I know this makes it look like I am, but... I knew that I couldn't do anything crazy, that they'd take me away and then my kids would be left with... But I wasn't thinking when I did it. I just looked up after he made me bleed again, and he had a knife in the room to peel an apple he was eating in bed after and I...I just picked it up.” She fell silent again. “I never thought there would be so much blood. And he was screaming and screaming, and I...” She stopped speaking and lifted her shoulders, let them fall. “I called 911.” She shrugged again. “I hear they sewed it back on and that he's going to live to brag another day. And I'll go to jail for the rest of my life.”

Kieran hesitated. She wondered why she'd chosen this work. It was so hard to see the suffering in others.

“Tanya, what happened to you—what was happening—needs to be brought to the judge's attention. My report is intended to help your lawyer. He or she will bring up the information about the way he was abusing you. I don't mean to give you false hope, but—”

“Oh, my God, no!” Tanya said, her face turning scarlet.

“No—what?”

“People will know! They'll know...what he did to me.”

Kieran was amazed that the prospect of others' opinions could sway Tanya's resolve to fight for herself.

“They
should
know,” Kieran said. “Why would you let this happen to someone else?”

Tanya was thoughtful. Tears sprang into her eyes. “My kids... Does that mean maybe I'd get my kids back?”

“I'm not a lawyer. But, as a therapist, I can assure you that telling the truth is what you need to do right now, and that if anything will help you, it's the truth.”

As if taking Kieran completely at her word, Tanya launched into a flood of truths. By the end Kieran was surprised the woman hadn't put the knife through her husband's heart, though she didn't say anything like that to Tanya. She assured her that she would write everything up and put it into the hands of her attorney.

For once, Kieran thought after Tanya had left in the company of her police escort, her mind wasn't on her own situation. She typed away furiously, consulting her notes frequently and occasionally replaying part of the recorded session.

She had no idea how long she'd been working when she was startled to feel a presence behind her, though she'd never heard the door open.

She spun around and nearly gasped when she saw who it was.

Special agent Craig Frasier.

* * *

Moments after Craig arrived, Jake arrived at her door escorting Kevin and Julie.

“Looks like we were all of the same mind,” Kevin said, looking at Craig. “You here to help my sister escape unscathed, too?”

Craig nodded.

“Thank you. All of you,” Kieran said. “Are there...people out there on the street, or have I been worrying for nothing?”

“This is New York. Of course there are people on the street,” Kevin teased, but he sobered quickly. “Yeah, a few. One guy's lounging against the building, smoking a cigarette, but I don't think he really smokes.”

“How do you figure that?” Julie asked.

“He keeps coughing,” Craig said. “There's a woman, too.”

“Is she coughing, too?” Kieran asked him.

“No. She's holding a microphone and her news van is down the street,” he said. She winced, then looked at him hopefully, as if, he thought, she expected him to have an answer for her.

And, actually, he did.

“I tracked down the building superintendent. We can leave through the service entrance, then follow the alley out to the next street over. My car is on Park Avenue.”

“Thank you!” Kieran leaped up and grabbed her bag and coat. Suddenly she seemed to remember that she'd been working, so she quickly shut down her computer. “Ready,” she said.

The super was a nice guy. He had a heavy accent and had told Craig he was from the Ukraine. He was more than willing to help Kieran and kept bowing slightly toward her, making her flush and thank him over and over again.

They left through the delivery door, and as they made their way through the alley, out to the next block and then down to Park, Kieran kept her head low. He couldn't help but think that with her height, especially in heels or shoe lifts, her head down and covered in a hoodie, she could be a match for one of the killers they'd caught on camera.

That was ridiculous. His heart—and the powerful sexual attraction he felt for her—fought against it.

She seemed in a lighter mood than she'd been in the previous evening. Maybe she was hoping that tonight would pass without a hostage situation or a subway mishap. And maybe she even felt a little warmer toward him; he had, after all, helped her make her escape.

“Where am I taking you?” he asked, once they were in the car. “Did you want to go straight home?”

She hesitated, then said, “Finnegan's, please. It gets busy on Thursday nights.”

“You're going to be in for it even if the press haven't connected you to the bar yet,” Kevin warned her. “The city has a new motto, after all. ‘Any decent person would lend a hand.' Funny how that's taken precedence over the fact that you helped catch a gang of jewel thieves. Not to mention that, thanks to you, Miss Shirley Martin is now receiving offers from agents. I waited weeks to see some of those people, you know.”

“Don't be bitter, Kevin. She did have a few seconds there when she was certain she was going to die,” Kieran said.

Kevin shook his head. “I'm not bitter. That's the way the acting business works. Of course, if you decide to do another interview, you might want to make sure I'm with you so you can let the world know I'm the subway savior's twin.”

Craig looked at Kieran, wondering how she would take her brother's words.

“Will do,” she promised. She was sitting next to him in the front; Kevin was in the back. Craig saw their amused gazes meet in the rearview mirror.

Twins. He'd heard they could sometimes read one another's minds.

He decided he should spend more time with Kevin. He was certain there was more going on here than he knew, and Kevin might be able to help him figure it out.

And if he was wrong, and Kieran was on the up-and-up?

Then Kevin might be able to offer some insights into the most fascinating woman he'd met in years.

He hadn't been sure whether he was going to drop her off at the bar or accompany her inside, but when he saw the open parking spot right near the pub, he considered the decision made and slipped into it.

Kieran looked his way as he started to open his door.

“You're coming in?” she asked.

“You may need a quick escape. Besides, I have a yen for fish-and-chips. And since I'm a horrible cook and your chef's fish-and-chips are delicious...”