The Innocent (Will Robie 1)

guys. Filled out my share of paperwork. Worn out witness chairs in courthouses.”

He made a left. He had no idea where he was going. He just kept driving.

“And where exactly is this trip down memory lane going, Agent Vance?”

“After you left I threw up. Couldn’t help it. Just upchucked into a trash can.”

“Nothing unusual about that. It was pretty bad.”

“You saw what I saw. And you didn’t throw up.”

He looked at her again. “You said it didn’t affect me. You don’t know that. You can’t see inside my head.”

“I wish I could. I’m pretty sure I’d find it fascinating.”

“Doubtful.”

“You triaged those people really effectively. Where did you learn to do that?”

“I just picked up some tricks over the years.”

She glanced down at his arm. “Damn, Robie, you didn’t even clean your own wound. You’re going to get gangrene.”

“Where are we going?”

“First stop, WFO,” she said, referring to the Washington Field Office.

“After that?”

“Hospital for you.”

“No.”

“Robie!”

“No.”

“Okay, we can drive to your place. But I insist on getting your wound cleaned up there. I can grab some stuff from WFO. Then I can head home and try to get a couple hours’ sleep. Where do you live?”

He said nothing, but he hung a right and then another right and headed to the WFO.

“So you know the way to the Field Office?”

“No, I’m just making an educated guess.”

“Where do you live? Or is that classified too?”

“We can part company at the WFO. I’ll cab it from there.”

“Do you have a place to live?” she asked.

“I’ll find one.”

“For Godsakes, what is going on with you?”

“I’m just trying to do my job.”

The emphasis on the last word made her visibly react. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Okay. Look, after WFO we can go to my place. I live in Virginia. Condo in Alexandria. You can get cleaned up there. And if you want you’re welcome to the couch.”

“I appreciate the offer but—”

“Careful. I’m not usually this nice to people, Robie. Don’t blow it.”

He glanced at her. She was smiling weakly at him.

He was about to decline again, but he didn’t. For three reasons. His arm was aching like hell. And he was tired. Really tired. And he really had no place to go.

“Okay,” he said. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

CHAPTER

36

THE STOP AT WFO took longer than Robie had thought it would. He sat in a chair while Vance bustled around, filling out papers, briefing superiors, thumbing her phone and clicking computer keys and looking more and more tired with every passing minute.

Robie gave his official statement of events and then watched the ensuing activity. Part of him wondered if everyone was just running around in circles and accomplishing little.

“I’ll drive,” said Robie as they headed to the garage after they were finally done.

“Don’t you ever get tired?” she asked with a yawn.

“I am tired. Really tired, in fact.”

“You don’t look it.”

“I find things work better that way.”

“What way?”

“Not showing what you’re actually feeling.”

She gave him directions and he took the GW Parkway south to Alexandria.

When they pulled into her condo building Robie said, “You have water views of the Potomac?”

“Yes. And I can see the monuments from my place too.”

“Nice.”

They took the elevator up and she unlocked the door to her place. It was small, but Robie immediately liked it. Clean lines, no clutter, and everything seemed to have a purpose, nothing was strictly for show. He assumed that matched the owner’s personality.

Nothing for show. What I see matters.

“Reminds me of a ship’s cabin,” he said.

“Well, my father was career Navy. Apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Other than I spend most of my time on dry land. Make yourself comfortable.”

He sat on a long couch in the living room while she unpacked some medical supplies she’d taken from WFO. She kicked off her flats and sat next to him.

“Off with the jacket and the shirt,” she ordered.

He looked at her awkwardly but did what she asked, setting his holstered gun on the coffee table.

When she saw the tats her eyebrows hiked.

“Red lightning, and what’s the other one?”

“Shark’s tooth. Great white.”

“And why those?”

“Why not?”

She looked more closely and her eyes widened as she saw the old wounds the tats were obscuring.

“Are those—”

“Yeah, they are,” he said tersely, cutting her off.

She busied herself with the medical supplies after this mild rebuke, while Robie stared at his hands.

“What are you, thirty-five?”

“Forty. Just.”

“You’ve got to be former special forces right? Ranger, Delt, SEAL. They all have builds like you, although you’re taller than most of those guys.”

He didn’t answer her.

She cleaned the wound, applied some antibiotics, and then wound gauze around it, taping it securely down.

“I brought some painkillers. Pill or syringe?”

“No.”

“Come on, Robie, you don’t have to play all macho with me.”

“It’s got nothing to do with that.”

“What, then?”

“Knowing your pain tolerance is important. Pills and needles mask it. Not good. I could be slipping and I’d never know it.”

“Guess I never thought of that.”

She put her things away and looked at him. “You can put your shirt back on.”

“Thanks for patching me up. I appreciate it.”

He slipped his shirt back on, wincing a bit as he did so.

“That’s nice to know,” she said, watching him.

“What?”

“That you’re human.”