Last Light by C. J. Lyons Read Free Book Online Page B

for several moments. She turned back in her seat, facing front once more as they turned into the airport. “Guess that all depends on how well you do on this case.”
    Lucy chuckled, glanced at TK, and met her smile. “Touché.”
    She navigated to the long-term parking. Since US Air pulled out, the airport was almost always empty—at least compared to the cavernous terminals and parking structures—so it made no sense to pay premium prices when it was just as easy to find a space in the cheaper garage. “What about this David Ruiz working for the Justice Project? Do you know him?”
    TK shook her head. “I read his report summarizing the case this morning after Valencia gave us the assignment. Good writer—gets right to the point, but also makes you feel like you’re there with him. Never spoke with him, though.”
    They grabbed their luggage. Lucy tucked her cane over the handle of her lightweight, carry-on-sized roller. She’d been tempted to leave the cane in the car, but since odds were that she would need it—her foot was already throbbing—it seemed best to bring it. She stopped TK as they entered the terminal, heading toward the ticket counter rather than the security line. “I have to check this bag.”
    TK frowned. “I was kidding about not helping you—”
    “No. My weapons are locked inside.” Lucy grabbed a sheaf of TSA paperwork from her computer bag. Traveling with weapons always meant paperwork, even when she was a FBI agent.
    “You should have told me you were checking weapons through. I could have brought my own.”
    Lucy said nothing. Bad enough to partner with someone she didn’t know or trust, but to have them armed? “Do you have a permit to carry across state lines?”
    TK shrugged. “It’s Texas. They probably have vending machines at the airport. Or we can stop at a cash-and-carry gun show on our way.”
    Right. Like that was a comforting thought. “Hopefully we won’t need them. After all, isn’t that Valencia’s whole point? That the Beacon Group doesn’t need trained law enforcement for its field team?”
    “Don’t have to be law enforcement to know how to use a weapon. Besides, be honest. Don’t you feel kind of naked without one? After all, you’re retired and you still carry.”
    “My husband says it’s hypervigilance. But he’s a psychologist. His specialty is PTSD, sees it everywhere. Just like I look around and see potential threats everywhere.”
    “I say, better safe than sorry.”
    Lucy couldn’t disagree. “More like, better safe than dead.”
    “Hoo-rah.”

 
     
     
 
 
 
Chapter 7
     
     
    THE FLIGHT TO Dallas wasn’t crowded, and they had relative privacy. Lucy gave TK the window, surprised to see the former Marine do a white-knuckle armrest clench during takeoff.
    “Not a fan of flying?” she asked once TK’s jaws had relaxed enough to allow her to answer.
    “Not in planes. Don’t mind helos much, which is strange since I’ve walked away from three hard landings. I think maybe it’s because I can see the pilot or something.” TK turned to Lucy. “What about you? Did you have to fly much in the FBI? Did you have a fancy Gulfstream like on TV?”
    Lucy laughed. “No. We mostly drove wherever we needed to go. And when I was with the Critical Incident Response Group, working with the Hostage Rescue Team, we flew in the back of C-130s. Compared to them, I’m with you, would much rather be in a helicopter.”
    TK nodded. The plane leveled off and she released her grip, took a breath. Lucy was surprised by how much more amiable the younger woman was now that they were alone. As if TK had let her guard down. A smidge.
    “So,” Lucy said, wanting to continue the forward progress, “tell me about this Martin case.”
    “Not sure there’s much to tell—Valencia only assigned us to it this morning. Home invasion gone wrong. Two brothers, both confessed, pled guilty to avoid the death penalty. Older one was high on PCP and peyote, put two