Page 113 of Get A Fix

Carrie Voss had threatened me with a gun while I was holding Gemma. Then she’d threatened to hurt Ash if I didn’t comply. Adding that to whatever else she’d done, whatever part she played in the deaths of the others, would put her in prison for a very long time, and that didn’t upset me in the least. I needed her to pay for threatening people I loved.

“Also, so you know, Mr. Rhodes was extricated from Moldova last night. I spoke to a Captain Hunt, who said everything went according to plan.”

“That’s a good day,” I told her. “Getting everyone at once. You don’t always get days that good.”

“No, you don’t,” she agreed, and gave me a trace of a smile before taking a quick breath. “And now we’re going to leave and take the Vosses with us, but I want to apologize for arriving late here today. I’m known for being on site early. We should have been here before Carrie Voss threatened you with a gun.” She pulled a business card out of her coat pocket and handed it to me. “Please use the email there to send me your statement, and if I can be of service in the future, to you or the Cushing family, don’t hesitate to call me.”

“Thank you,” I said as we shook again.

They were gone quickly, and I knew from being a cop that the FBI only operated one way. I was betting they hadn’t even alerted the Maine State Police to their visit to Castine.

Once the door closed behind the Feds, I lunged at Ash and hugged him tight.

“I was so scared,” I told him. “I can’t lose you.”

“I feel the same,” he murmured and kissed me.

“Cooper!”

We parted, chuckling, and there was Gemma running as fast as her little legs would carry her. When she reached me, just ahead of her parents, Jeff carrying Taylor and Ainsley running with her boys, I scooped her up and hugged her so tight, she squeaked.

“Your boss called before Gemma got back,” Ash told me, “but we wouldn’t have known anything was amiss if Gemma hadn’t reported that the mean lady had a no-no toy.”

I glanced at Ainsley, who said, “My kids aren’t allowed to play with guns, and when we heard the lady had one, we all came right away.”

I grinned at her. “With a red foam bat.”

“I gave him my bat,” Timothy told me. “It’s small but hits good.”

“It certainly does,” Ash agreed.

Back in our room, after saying good night to the Cushing family, Ainsley having cried all over me for taking such good care of Gemma, I got out my laptop and wrote up my accounting of what happened to me and sent that off to SSA Merriweather. I had Ash read it first.

“That is very thorough, sir,” he said, smiling at me. “And not at all an interesting read. There’s no embellishment or whimsy in there at all. It’s just the facts.”

“Good,” I told him, scowling. “That’s what it’s supposed to be.”

“You gave that no artistic flourish. Like zero. You have no future as a novelist.”

“Oh that’s terrible. How will I live with myself.”

“Funny.”

After I kissed him, the two of us got comfortable on the sectional and called my boss.

Ash was surprised when he popped onto the screen, and I understood why. If someone had never met Jared Colter in person, from reading only his very sparse biography on the Torus website, they’d think he was either going to be a supersleek international man-of-mystery spy type, very much James Bond, or a supersoldier without a shred of humor or warmth, still wearing fatigues despite being retired. The fact was, he was both those things and many others, but at the moment, we were catching him at home, where he was on his couch, drinking bourbon. He was flanked by a chihuahua and a pittie, both fast asleep.

“Oh, that’s a man after my own heart right there,” Ash said, motioning to the pittie.

“Good evening, sir,” I greeted him.

“Helluva time you’re having out there in Maine, Davis,” he said with an evil cackle. “I apologize for jinxing you.”

“Little late for that, sir.”

His smile was a good one, and the laugh lines around his eyes crinkled. “It all turned out all right, though, wouldn’t you say?”

Of course it had. “Yes, sir.”