Part 11 (1/2)
”The FBI called me. I only happened to mention you were out of the state, investigating another potential connection to David Yarns. And gee f.u.c.king whiz, they were more than happy to a.s.sist.”
”Convenient. How did you even know where to send them? The exact address, I mean. You must have given them something more than just Darrington.”
”Do you remember that I was going to send Max down to the precinct to attempt a surface scan of David's mind? Turns out there was a connection between your pervert of yesterday and your pervert of today. A big one.”
”She's the boss,” Aggie said softly, making the intuitive leap.
”Maybe, possibly. You'll need to tell me one day how you knew.”
”Ghosts and angels,” she murmured. ”More mystery than you can shake a stick at.”
Aggie disentangled herself from Emma, and with a quick, ”I'll be right back,” walked a very short distance away. Amiri inched closer to the girl. Aggie saw Emma place a tentative hand on his shoulder.
”Good kitty,” she said.
”Roland,” Aggie said. ”We have to do something about Emma, the victim in this. She deserves better than an FBI social worker and foster care.”
”Doesn't she have family?”
”Her mother's dead. I never talked to-I never talked about whether she had other people to take care of her. I've got a feeling, though, that she's pretty much alone.”
”s.h.i.+t. Aggie-”
”No,” she said. ”Find a way.”
”For what? Do you want her?”
Aggie swallowed hard, thinking about the possibilities, what that would mean. She looked at the girl and saw the future fan out, and for a moment it was like seeing her own fate, her own probabilities; like last night in her home, being slammed with an image of this girl in need. Only now, the girl in her head still had need, but different. Just as important.
”I don't know,” Aggie said, quiet. ”But she needs something more than what the system can give her. I know it.”
There was silence on the other end, and then, ”Okay. I'll figure it out, make some calls. That's why we have those expensive lawyers, right? We'll make it happen. In some variation. But Emma will have to leave with the FBI today. That can't be helped. ”
”I know,” Aggie said. ”Thank you, Roland.”
”Whatever. You and the boys, though... good work. Really f.u.c.king good work.”
”Good boss.”
”That's right,” he said, and hung up.
Aggie went back to the car and snuggled up next to Emma. She thought about both their futures. Amiri sat still. Quinn trudged over from around the house and joined them.
He took one look at Aggie's face and said, ”You okay?”
”No,” she said. ”But I will be. I need to go away after this.”
Emma stirred. ”Charlie.”
”Yes.”
”He's my ghost,” Emma said. ”My friend.”
”He's mine, too,” Aggie said. ”But he's lost now, and I need to go find him. I need to do for him what he did for you. Take him away from the dark place.”
”Can I come with you?” Emma asked.
Aggie shook her head. ”You'll need to go with the police today, but that won't be for long. You'll have a better place to live. Safe, with good people.”
”I'm scared,” Emma said.
”I know.” Aggie put a hand on the child, soothing, calming. ”You have a right to be, but we'll take care of you. I promise.” She gestured to her colleague, who had just appeared. ”This, Emma, is my friend Quinn Dougal. He gets kind of cranky, but he's a good person.”
”You're little,” Emma said to him, with the simple honesty of the very young. ”But you don't look like a kid.”
”No,” Quinn said kindly. ”I'm a bit older than that. Humans just come in all sizes, that's all.”
Emma still clutched Amiri's shoulder.
”What's your name?” she asked him, and he told her, and she liked that.
Time pa.s.sed. The FBI and police took their statements, and then they took Mrs. Kreer and her son. And sometime after that, as the afternoon stretched into evening, they took Emma.
Before the child left, she reached out with her skinny arms and pulled Aggie in for a hug. Emma smelled better after being away from the bas.e.m.e.nt-like sunlight and sweet gra.s.s-and when Aggie pulled back to look into her eyes she saw a hint of green that she had not noticed before. A flickering light that was pure and shot full of spring and leaf. Otherworldly, almost.
”You'll find him,” Emma whispered, with a conviction that was quiet, more confident than her years. ”You'll find Charlie.”
”And when I do?” Aggie found herself asking, compelled by strength of the child's voice, the heartbreaking sincerity of her old, old gaze.
Emma brushed her fingers against the corners of Aggie's eyes, and for a moment the air seemed to s.h.i.+mmer, and the child said, ”You'll see.”
And that was the end of it. Aggie watched her go and felt like another piece of her heart was breaking. She had never realized she could feel so much for others in such a short amount of time. Charlie, Emma. There was something wrong with her. She needed to turn something off.
No, she told herself. Don't you dare. Your isolation is over. All you need now is courage.
”What are you going to do?” Quinn asked, coming up to stand beside her. He took her hand and held it.
”I'm going to find him,” Aggie said, glancing down at her partner, wondering if she would ever be able to tell him the whole unbending truth. ”One way or another.”
Quinn and Amiri returned to California that evening on the private jet, but Aggie did not go with them. She drove back down to Seattle. She did a lot of thinking. She did a lot of listening to herself.
When she got to the airport, she bought a ticket to Scotland.
Chapter Seven.