Page 21 of Fallout

She motioned for him to go with her and headed for the door.

“Guess we’re done here.” He gave Eric and Lucas a two-fingered salute and followed her. Samantha had hung up before she reached the door where Alvarez watched the street.

“My CI,” she said. “She needs help.”

“Then let’s go.”

He didn’t miss the surprise on her face that he didn’t argue.

They had some time before Brent would be at the PD.

NINE

Destiny took the long way through the cemetery, walking the single-lane asphalt road that wound in an arc back to the exit gate. She’d asked Simon to find out where Jamal Reed was buried. She took her time. Maybe she didn’t want to see it. The whole thing would seem more final.

His name chiseled into concrete.

Wind whispered through the trees, sounding almost like a running river. Few others were here at this time on a Saturday morning. Her day off. The chance to do whatever she wanted, and it was this. She wasn’t under any illusions. Someone at Vanguard likely knew where she was. Probably, there was a GPS tracker on the company car she drove now.

Someone would have come with her if she asked, but she couldn’t rely on bodyguards for the rest of her life.

One black town car had been parked nearby, and a woman in black pants and a long blue coat leaned against it. Light brown hair danced in the wind, but she made no attempt to subdue it.

Destiny tucked the collar of her coat closer around her neck. Close to Jamal’s grave, she saw a man. Someone she knew.

Jasper’s father stood in front of a grave that didn’t belong to her father. He had come to visit someone? The deceased person had been honored with a marker that stood five feet tall. Senator Hollingsworth traced the marble on the front, then turned and spotted her.

She didn’t move while he closed the distance between them. “Senator.”

“Given that we keep meeting, you should call me Richard.” He squeezed her hand.

She didn’t know what to say or how to explain why she was here. She glanced over at the grave and spotted the letters of his name.

JAMAL REED.

“Ah.”

The drawn-out word had a wealth of understanding contained in it. Such a small thing, and he communicated so much.

Tears burned in her eyes.

“The first time you’ve visited him?”

She managed to nod.

“And you’re not here to spit on his grave, or scream something you don’t want me to hear?”

She glanced over.

He shrugged. “We all grieve in our own way.”

“No.” She cleared her throat. “I won’t be doing either of those things.”

“Good.” He held his elbow out. “Allow me to escort you.”

As she slid her arm through his and they walked to Jamal’s grave, the last thing she wanted was to assume the worst about this gentleman. It was easier to dislike someone and close herself off, to protect herself from any harm that might come. Sounded proactive—or like she had healthy boundaries.

Instead, she would only be acting unfairly.