Page 7 of Facing the Enemy
Our sweet reunion showed God had answered our prayers. I’d uncover the who and why of the tragedy, whether it lay in Trenton’s past or mine.
I noted unsavory characters from his addiction days with the reluctance of not knowing his current friends. Ah, his sponsor might remember details about Trenton that he’d omitted from the FBI interview. If not for the note informing me I was the target, I’d have been investigating those aspects of his life. First I would explore the reality of who I’d upset.
In the minutes remaining before I spoke to SAC Dunkin, I scanned through details of a recently closed child abduction by a noncustodial parent. The child had been found and returned to themother. The father sat in jail until his court hearing. Nothing out of the ordinary. No threats. Searching through past cases with what I remembered would take lots of time. But not impossible with the upcoming free hours on my hands.
I closed down my computer and took the elevator up to the SAC’s office. I’d worked under him for the six years, and while I didn’t agree with his every decision, I liked and respected him.
I entered his office, and he frowned, no doubt ready to lecture me on not comforting Mom and Dad. After closing the door behind me, I eased onto a stiff chair in front of his desk. His dark-brown eyes bored into mine, a reminder of Trenton. He folded his massive hands on his desk, a mannerism he used when one-on-one.
“Thanks for seeing me.” I handed him my resignation. “My brother’s death has caused me to rethink my career. With the overwhelming grief, I’m concerned I might endanger lives.”
“Personal time off is appropriate, Risa. Two weeks or thirty days? What seems best to you?”
“Resignation, sir.”
He studied the document and seemed to digest my words. “Does this have anything to do with the note left on your windshield?”
My anger meter rose. “Gage told you.”
“He’s worried about the contents and the sender. He said you were upset and refused to talk further about it.”
“I had just buried my brother.”
“Understandable. Why don’t you tell me what’s in the note.”
“Impossible.”
“A threat?” He held up my resignation. “Since when are you a quitter?”
That pushed my anger needle even higher. “I care about my family and friends.”
“We all have family and friends. They are the reason we are committed to our job.”
Dare I reveal the demands? I sighed.
“Risa, you are a private person. A perfectionist. Do I need to remind you that threatening a federal officer is a federal offense?”
“Those I care about were threatened, and I was told to resign and tell no one. Now I’ve told you.” I fought to avoid the tears pooling in my eyes.
“Someone shoved you into resigning? The person who wrote it won, and the person looks a whole lot like the one who killed your brother.”
The SAC had no right to question my decision. I spoke low. “I was the intended target.”
He humphed. “Which means you’re still in a killer’s sights.”
“Possibly. But I’m not giving up on finding him or her.”
“Last I checked, playing vigilante is illegal.”
“I said nothing about taking the law into my hands.”
The SAC sat back. Another of his mannerisms indicating he was in think-mode. Or make me think he accepted my stand. “Working on a case involving a family member is prohibited.”
“I resigned, and I’ll be investigating who targeted me and ... missed.”
The SAC toyed with a pen on his desk. “You have an outstanding record with the FBI.”
“Thank you.” What thoughts filled his mind?
