Secrets to the Grave by Tami Hoag Read Free Book Online Page B

victim.”
    “Don’t fuck her, she’s dangerous?” Trammell asked.
    “Exactly.”
    “All right,” Dixon said. “Let’s get out there and find out who felt the need to send that message.”

9
    “How is Mrs. Morgan?” Vince asked as they climbed into the car.
    Mendez looked over at him as he stuck the key in the ignition. “Not happy to see me. I can tell you that.”
    “She went through a lot last year,” Vince said. “Anne gets together with her and Wendy every so often. She really wants to maintain that contact with the kids. Wendy has had some trouble coping. She’s withdrawn a bit. It’s a sad thing.”
    “Is the husband still in the picture?”
    “As far as I know.”
    “I don’t get that.” Mendez shook his head. “The guy cheated on her with a woman who ended up dead, lied about it, withheld information from a murder investigation. He’s a Class-A prick and she stays with him. What’s wrong with women? She’s a beautiful, talented lady. She deserves better.”
    “He’s the father of her child,” Vince said. “I’m sure Wendy loves her dad. Given the choice, kids want their parents to stay together. Tension in a marriage is a scary thing for a child, but not as scary as losing one of the two most important people in their life.”
    “You were married before. How did your kids take it?”
    Vince made a face. “I was an absentee father most of their lives. My girls already knew what it was like to live without me. Their day-to-day didn’t change all that much when I moved out.”
    “You regret that.”
    “Hell, yeah. They’re my daughters. I love them. I blew it. My ex-wife is a great gal, but she got tired of being a single parent and eventually she found herself another partner. I picked my career over my family.”
    “But think of everything you’ve done in your career, man. You were a fucking pioneer. The Behavioral Sciences Unit wouldn’t have evolved in the same way without you. Think of the cases you’ve helped solve, the killers you’ve helped put behind bars. That’s worth a lot.”
    “It is. I don’t discount that,” Vince said. “I’ve made important contributions to the larger world. Unfortunately, those contributions cost me a big price. They cost me my marriage. I missed watching my daughters grow up. But we make our choices and we live with the good and the bad of them. I just know I’m not making the same mistakes twice, that’s all.”
    “Yeah,” Mendez groused with good nature, “rub my nose in it, why don’t you?”
    Vince grinned. He had beaten his protégé to the punch where Anne was concerned—a fact that never ceased to please him. “You snooze you lose, Junior. But don’t take it too hard. Maybe we’ll name our first-born after you.”
    “Asshole.”
    “Ha!”
    Their first stop was the administration building at McAster College. The school’s campus was beautiful, impeccably maintained, shaded with huge old oak trees. Established in the 1920s, many of the buildings were original, a mix of traditional ivy-covered brick and Spanish Revival stucco.
    The administration building would have looked just as at home on the campus of Princeton. Wide front steps led to a grand set of doors.
    “What do you think that says?” Mendez pointed up to the inscription carved in stone above the doors.
    “If I had absorbed any of the Latin the nuns tried to pound into me in school, I could tell you.”
    “I think it says, If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.”
    They took the elevator to the third floor and walked down the hall to the president’s office. Vince had met McAster’s president, Arthur Buckman, nearly a year ago, after the press had finally gotten wind of Vince’s role in the See-No-Evil cases. He had been swamped with requests for interviews and speaking engagements.
    Still an agent at the time, he had to route all requests through the Bureau. The FBI was not keen on agents grandstanding or freelancing. Most of the requests had been