Sam wouldn’t be surprised to see the kid nominated for a Nobel Prize, alongside his deceased mentor.

Cattafi was pale, but wrote, Hi, on his whiteboard.

“Hi to you, too, Tommy. I just wanted to thank you for pulling through. You’re going to save a lot of lives, kiddo.”

He smiled sadly, wrote, Couldn’t have done it without Bromley. He was a genius.

“He was. His death is a great loss, as is Amanda’s. You did all you could, I know that. She’d want you to move on, to follow this dream you’ve created.”

He nodded, tears in his eyes.

“I talked to the dean, Tommy. He is happy to reinstate you immediately. As soon as you’re up and around, would you like to come back to school?”

He grinned and wrote, Yes! She smiled, smoothed down his hair. “Good. I want to be there the day you take your oath. Remember to invite me, okay?”

Always, Dr. Owens.

He was tiring, so she gave him a smile, squeezed his hand. “You’re a rock star, kiddo. Get better.”

Back in her room, she eased herself onto the bed and stretched, happy to feel the stitches pulling. They were knitting, her wounds were healing; she’d be out of here shortly. And then she’d have to deal with the Hometown Killer, and finding a new home, and getting back to her classes and a million other things.

But for now, she rested. She was safe here, with Xander and Fletcher and Taylor and Baldwin. Nothing would touch her.

* * *

They discharged Sam on Tuesday, exactly a week after the craziness began, when Amanda Souleyret was killed and Cattafi stabbed. It had been a bloody day with too many lives lost, and Sam prayed nothing like that would ever find her again.

She and Xander drove Taylor and Baldwin to the airport. They were heading back to Nashville, and Baldwin was going to throw all his resources into the Hometown Killer. Not only did they now have DNA, they had a visual on the man, and a description provided by a very smart, very observant cop. Baldwin was certain they would nail the bastard quickly, but Sam wasn’t so sure. Someone who’d managed to kill for years unnoticed wasn’t going to just walk into their arms.

But she didn’t tell Baldwin that. She knew he wanted her to feel reassured. And she did, in a way. Because she knew now what she was capable of. That she could stand in the face of death and danger, and fire a gun into the darkness to save herself.

It was a new kind of strength, one she hadn’t wanted, but was grateful for.

The short drive home from the airport was a revelation— autumn had seized D.C. overnight, it seemed. The trees were a riot of colors, their street charming and quaint, leaves accumulating on the sidewalks. The scent of fires and the sharp crisp air made her long for the mountains.

The house had been professionally cleaned. She still didn’t want to stay there. She wasn’t ready. She was only renting the place, and she’d already decided to break the lease and move on. For the meantime, Xander had arranged for a quick trip for them, to go see his parents in Colorado. She could heal and enjoy the crisp fall air and turning leaves.

Her boss, Hilary, had put her on a medical leave with indeterminate dates. She encouraged her to take as much time as she needed to recover. Sam secretly thought Hilary was so enjoying being out of the administrative world and being a part of the teaching world once again that she’d like Sam to stay away longer.

Sam wasn’t in the house for five minutes before the phone began to ring. She wasn’t surprised. Between the cops, the media and their own people trying to check in, everyone wanted a piece of her. So she answered each call without bothering to look at the caller ID. This time, a familiar female voice greeted her.

“Dr. Owens? It’s Robin Souleyret.”

“How are you, Robin?”

“I’m fine. Did you see the press conference State did?”

She had—Ashleigh Cavort, facing the camera, an American flag over her right shoulder, the State Department’s to her left. Face pale and voice tumbling. She knew she was about to get slaughtered by the press, and Sam had felt bad for her. She wasn’t the one who’d done wrong here, and she was going to have to fall on her sword in public. State was desperately trying to track the members of the group called Pyramid, but they’d rabbited, just as everyone feared. Hopefully, Heedles and Dixon would be forced to share something, and the forensic examinations of the money trail would lead them to the right people. The threat still existed. Would always exist, from this group or another.

“I turned it off. I didn’t want to see the fallout.”

Robin laughed. “Smart of you. I live for the fallout.”

“So I gathered.”

“James Denon came on after. He congratulated you personally.”

“That’s lovely. He sent flowers, too. What can I do for you, Robin?”

“I wanted to thank you. You were the only one who believed in me, and it’s because of that I’m not in prison right now. You helped save Gina, you helped save us all. I wanted to let you know if you ever need me for anything, I’m a call away.”

“That’s kind.”

“I’m serious. Shit gets strange in the world today. You never know when you might need a helping hand. Don’t ever hesitate.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Didn’t you hear? I’ve been reinstated. I’m going back in the field. I’m going to find these bastards if it kills me.”

“Dare I say congratulations?” Sam asked.

Robin laughed. “You’re a brave chick, Dr. Owens. It’s been nice knowing you. Thanks for the assist.” And then she was gone, and Sam hung up the phone with a goofy smile on her face, not quite certain why.

Chapter 57

Georgetown

POOR, DELICATE LITTLE wren.

Shot in the side, face splashed on the news, on leave from her job.

They were onto him now. He needed to be very careful. He’d made the long drive just to watch her come home. Wondered what she felt knowing the ghosts of the men who’d died in her house were still watching.

He wished she spent more time on the computer; he would be able to see into her head, see her thoughts. But she was one of the old-school ones. She didn’t like to text, didn’t have social media accounts, rarely used her email. She was self-reliant and strong and didn’t need the approval of others to function.

It made her more intoxicating than the rest.

Her phone was the only way in. He knew she used it; old-fashioned girl that she was, she actually called her friends when she wanted to speak with them. One had come to visit, and she was intriguing in her own right—tall and rangy and blonde as a sunbeam. She carried a gun like she’d been born with it, and he wondered what she smelled like.

Focus, cher. You have work to do.

He’d have to spoof the phone, which meant breaking into the house. The man wasn’t the problem, it was the dog. The glossy, healthy German shepherd clearly worshipped the woman and wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to sink his teeth into the first threat that came along.

He’d have to wait for the man to take the dog on a run, and her to take a shower.

It would happen, if he were patient.

Just be patient.

Oh, I will.

Said the spider to the fly.

Epilogue

Two weeks later

Washington, D.C.

SAM WALKED INTO the small living room and collapsed gently onto the dusty couch. The flight back from Colorado had been delayed, and it was past midnight. She was tired and ready for bed. She wanted to sleep for a week. Preferably with Xander by her side.

Thor clambered onto the couch with her, put his head on her knee. He was tired, too.

Xander followed her into the living room, dropped their bags on the floor. Fletcher had rented the apartment for them while they were in Colorado. They were staying here until they found a new place.