“Ariadne. Do you know where he was going?”

“No,” she whispered. Taylor hated this, she hated the fucking hell out of this. Hearing that lively voice so dispirited made her want to hit something.

Rescue pulled up, got briefed and pulled Taylor from Ariadne’s side to treat her. The EMTs were females, Taylor was happy to see. Sometimes rape victims balked at being treated by men-the 10-67 had alerted them, but it was still good luck. They had her fastened to a gurney and slipping off into the ambulance quickly.

“Where are you taking her?”

“Baptist,” was the brief reply, Taylor walked with them to the doors, watched while Ariadne was loaded in. The harsh lights reflected the bruise on her jaw and the dislocation of the mandible. Taylor knew that had to hurt, and broken ribs, the sharp ends stabbing into lungs and skin, weren’t a picnic, either. Ariadne was being awfully brave, not crying, those luminous blue eyes fixed on Taylor. She shifted under the azure gaze, read the words Ariadne put in her mind and turned away, shoving her hands in her pockets to keep them warm.

“Not your fault,” Ariadne said, as clearly as if she’d spoken aloud. “Not your fault.”

Fifty-Seven

Quantico

November 2

Baldwin did his damnedest to keep his voice steady. “Geroux and Sparrow died on scene. Butler passed away at the hospital during surgery. Gretchen lived, obviously.”

“You took a leave of absence after the firefight, correct?”

“Yes, sir, I did. I felt…responsible. For their deaths. If I’d thought of the tunnel earlier, none of this would have happened.”

“And the evidence linking Harold Arlen to the case?”

Baldwin tried very hard not to squirm. Now they were at the meat of the case. What he said at this very moment would determine his future, the future of his team, his life with Taylor. Everything. He swallowed hard.

“Sir, I believe that the blood evidence retrieved from Harold Arlen’s dresser was planted by Charlotte Douglas.”

There were murmurs from the panel. Reever squeezed his leg under the table.

“And yet her notes are very specific. She was with you the night before the shooting. You made love. You told her that you had a solution to the problem. That you had taken a small vial of blood from the Fairfax County lab, put it on a sock and left it in Harold Aden’s house. Do you deny these allegations?”

“Yes, sir, I most certainly do. I am truly at fault here. My actions got three good agents killed, and for that, I will never forgive myself. But as I stated earlier, Charlotte Douglas brought the idea to me. It was my mistake not to turn her in at that time.” He took a breath. “Sir, I never in a million years thought she’d actually go through with it.”

“But we have no proof either way. If you had come forward at the time of the shooting, let it be known that the evidence found was somehow in question, perhaps the next girl wouldn’t have died. And the woman who you say is responsible is dead, unable to defend herself.”

Ah, here we go. The truth of the matter was they had all messed up. There was more to the case than anyone had thought, and Baldwin had been blind. He took a deep breath.

“‘Sir, I had no way of knowing that Kilrneade was Harold A den’s partner. I suspected there was something between the two men, a twisted relationship, when Kilmeade allowed Arlen to befriend his daughter. But the odds of two men, two pedophiles, working together? It seemed preposterous at the time. On the surface it looked like Kilmeade was snatching the girls for his friend. But he continued after Arlen was dead. He was obviously the dominant in the situation, and we missed it. That tunnel between their houses was the key. They were shuttling the girls in and out, right into Great Falls Park. If we’d found it earlier… It’s beyond the pale, sir. None of us saw it. There were multiple investigators on the case. Unfortunately, I was distracted by the case due to Charlotte’s actions, and my own. Couple that with the terrible shock of losing three of my teammates, and I wasn’t thinking as clearly as I could have been. It’s not an excuse, but it is the truth.”

“No, you certainly weren’t. Because if you’d been thinking clearly, you would have alerted this body to Charlotte Douglas’s illegal actions, and she would have been prosecuted. You would have been prosecuted right alongside her for allowing her to violate the honor and code of the Bureau. I don’t know what’s worse, Dr. Baldwin. Your lies to cover up Charlotte Douglas’s actions, or your lies to cover your own ass.”

Reever cleared his throat. ‘There’s no need for that, sir. Dr. Baldwin has been utterly honest and forthright here. He’s answered all of your questions as openly and thoroughly as possible. And if I may point out, it’s nearly midnight. Perhaps we should break for the day.”

“We won’t be breaking just yet. We’re all in agreement here. Dr. Baldwin’s actions were evidence of £ross misconduct. There will be serious repercussions. We need to meet privately to discuss what exactly the punishment will be. You may wait outside while we deliberate.”

He and Reever had been sitting in somewhat companionable silence for nearly an hour when Baldwin’s cell rang. He jumped, startled. It was Garrett. This couldn’t be good. He shrugged his shoulders at Reever and answered.

‘They’re still in there?”

“Yes. Have you heard anything? What did they decide?” Baldwin asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“They’ve been at it an hour. Really, how much more do they want from me? I gave them the truth, just like they asked.”

“The whole truth?”

“As much as they needed.”

“Well, then. It’s going to be okay. You’ve already been punished enough for this. There’s nothing they can do to you that would be worse than the hell you put yourself through.”

That was the truth. Baldwin hadn’t handled his life very well in the months following Charlotte’s revelations, the death of Harold Arlen. And the demise of his team. Instead of facing the music, he’d split town. Taken a leave of absence, run home to Tennessee and spent the next six months practically comatose on his couch. Alcohol had been his friend then, a means to escape the daily torture of the guilt. It had taken a great deal of reassurance from Garrett, then meeting Taylor to drag him out of his depression.

The door to the hearing chamber opened. Reever stood and grabbed his arm. “‘Garrett they’re ready for me.” ‘Okay. Hang in there.” He stowed his phone, squared his shoulders and entered the chamber.

Fifty-Eight

Nashville

11:40 p.m.

Tay!or was only a mile from home, but the succor of the hearth fire wouldn’t be hers for a few hours yet. McKenzie yawned in the seat next to her, long and loud.