Enigma (FBI Thriller 21)

Connie rose with him. “I wonder, with two hundred years, how all our marriages would fare? Only one husband or wife for the duration, until death do us part at the end of the millennium? Bolt, I’ll check with your wife, see what she thinks about that.”

When Savich and Sherlock came back into the living room after showing out the CARD agents, Jack said, “Savich, I heard you saying you need to hit the gym, it’s been four days and your body’s yelling at you. I’ll go with you, do some lower body.”

Cam rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be an idiot. You can’t use that arm for at least a week, doctor’s orders. There’s no such thing as only lower body, all of you would be involved. It should be weeks before you work out.” She turned to Savich. “You say your bod is yelling at you after only four days? Mine is saying, ‘Leave me alone to nap and grow fat cells’ and contemplate a new vampire diet, say peanut butter being the primary food source.”

Ollie laughed, pointed his licked fork at Jack. “My recommendation is three months, Jack, and make sure your will is in order if you’re planning on going hand to hand with him. He shows no mercy. I learned my lesson a long time ago.”

“My will? Savich is that scary? Okay, then, if he is, I should make some changes. After evaluating Agent Wittier in close quarters for the past three days, I’ve decided to leave her my most valuable possession.”

She cocked her head at him, sending a thick hank of wavy blond hair listing over her left eye. “You’ve been evaluating me? Okay, Cabot. I’ll bite. What is your most valuable possession?”

“My dog Cropper. He’s hanging out right now with my brother in New York State—in White Plains. I’ll need your muscle to help me liberate him from my brother’s wife and three boys. You can drive the getaway car.”

She pictured it, smiled. “Do you know, I’d like to have a dog. I’ve traveled so much since I’ve been out of the academy, I never thought it would be fair to have a pet. But now I’m settled here in Washington, why not? Cropper, that’s a good name. What is he?”

“Purebred mongrel. Got him when he was a puppy at the pound.”

“How big is he?”

“You need a king-size bed and ear plugs. He snores.”

“Okay,” Cam said, “I’ll take him.”

“Since this is in my will, you might not get him until his golden years.”

Ruth said, “Now that Cropper’s taken care of, Sherlock, I don’t suppose there’s one tiny piece of apple pie left, maybe hidden in the kitchen?”

Jack said, “If you’re hiding some, Sherlock, I need it more than Ruth. To get my strength back. Here’s another idea—leave this goombah and come live with me. I’ll provide the apples and the oven and endless praise.”

Cam looked at Jack. “Nah, you can forget Sherlock. If we had two hundred years, she’d sign up for all of them with Dillon.”

“I might,” Sherlock said, and waggled her eyebrows. “I’ll give it a lot of thought, let you know.” She leaned over and patted Cam’s shoulder. “You know, Cam, I’m thinking you should be our guest tonight at Hotel Savich, or maybe Hotel Savich and Infirmary. You can have the guest room, and Jack can sleep in Sean’s room and talk sports until our boy conks out. Sorry, but there’ll be no stopping Astro from licking your face.”

Jack said, “Not a problem, Sean and I can talk basketball. Believe me, I’m used to Cropper’s big tongue.” He arched an eyebrow at Cam. “Maybe if Sean wakes me up with a snort or two, I could check in to see how well Wittier’s sleeping, maybe spoon her, make her feel all safe and warm.”

Sherlock watched Cam smiling as she punched Jack on his uninjured arm. If Sherlock had to guess, she’d say Cam thought spooning with Jack could be a fine idea.

She said, “Cam, would you like another glass of wine since you’re not driving tonight?”

Sherlock handed her a glass of chardonnay, watched her chug it down, keeping one eye on Jack, a bit of appalled comprehension on her face. Sherlock looked over at Dillon, who was eyeing the two of them. He could thank her later for that very smooth move. He did want Jack to transfer out of the New York Field Office and come to Washington. And after tonight, who knew? Dillon might get his wish.

After Ruth and Ollie left, Savich walked Astro to his favorite oak tree down the block. It was clear and warm, a beautiful night, the stars vivid in the sky. His neighbors’ lights were going off, one after the other. It had been a long, nonstop week for both him and Sherlock and all the agents visiting them tonight. He looked forward to relaxing and playing with Sean over the weekend, trying to put their world back into place, life back into perspective. When Astro finished with his oak tree of choice, he gave a little bark and a hop, raised his head for Savich to praise him, which he did. Satisfied, Astro pranced back to the Savich driveway.

Two hours later, Hotel Savich was quiet, all the lights out. Both Sean and Astro were snuggled together and sound asleep. Jack lay on his back in Sean’s room on a single bed, his feet hanging off the end, his head pillowed in his arms. He got up, looked down at Sean, listened to him snort a couple of times, petted Astro’s head, and made his way quietly to the guest room.

He opened the door, looked over at the bed, and smiled. He didn’t know what had taken him so long to decide about Cam Wittier. It was time to try his hand at spooning.

EPILOGUE

ARTHUR CHILDERS’S HOSPITAL ROOM

WASHINGTON MEMORIAL HOSPITAL

WASHINGTON, D.C.

FRIDAY MORNING

Alex slept pressed against Kara’s heart, his fist in his mouth. “I’m glad you’re asleep,” she whispered, kissing his forehead, “because the milk truck is empty.” She smiled hugely, rocking him.