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‘So, that’s it?’ he asked. ‘I’m cleared?’

Luca Hawkins was perched on a plastic lawn chair, balanced precariously on what his mother generously called ‘the viewing deck,’ which was in fact a flat section of roof accessible through Luca’s old bedroom window.

He cursed the Massachusetts weather that couldn’t decide if it wanted to freeze his ass off or just make it uncomfortably damp.

This was the only spot within a half-mile radius where cell reception existed with any reliability. He’d been up here for ten minutes, long enough for his fingers to grow numb around his phone.

‘Yes. Cleared and reinstated.’ Deputy Director Marshall’s voice came in fuzzy bursts.

‘Wow.’ Luca could hardly believe what he was hearing. Just days ago, he’d been persona non grata at the Bureau after throwing a suspect through a table. Now Deputy Director Marshall was acting like the whole thing had been a minor misunderstanding.

‘Your actions were justified, given the threat. That’s what the review board decided. There was insufficient evidence of excessive force. Mr. Winters was coming at you with a weapon.’

Translation: Someone higher up had decided it wasn’t worth the paperwork to suspend an agent over a serial killer with a broken hip. Either that or Edis needed more feet on the ground, pronto.

‘He sure was coming at me with a weapon.’

‘We were concerned that the suspect had been severely concussed, which would affect the legitimacy of his confession. A doctor found no concussion was present. All evidence supports your account.’

Nothing like subsequent murders to make throwing someone through a table look reasonable. The memory of splintering wood and shattering glass bottles still haunted Luca’s dreams, but he’d do it again in a heartbeat. If you couldn’t put murderers through tables, who could you?

‘Spare me the details. You want me in the office, is that right?’

‘As soon as possible.’

The wording put the ball in Luca’s court, whether Marshall meant it that way or not. Luca stared out across the property that had shaped him. Thirty acres of stubborn New England terrain that had broken his father and forged his mother into someone unbreakable.

‘Alright. I’ll be back… soon.’

‘When might that be?’

‘You said as soon as possible.’

‘Can you get here today?’ Marshall asked.

Luca snorted. ‘No. I’m about 500 miles away.’

‘You have a car, don’t you?’

Luca thought about the situation with Ella. Edis apparently had cops keeping an eye on all of Ella’s contacts. If Luca went back to D.C., he’d just be another name on the protection list. Did they really need another one right now?

‘Yeah. Let me think about it.’

‘Think about it? It doesn’t work like that-’

‘If Edis has a problem, tell him to call me.’

There was a pause on the line, the kind that stretched longer than cellular dead zones could explain. Luca guessed that Marshall was cycling through responses and discarding them just as quickly.

Finally: ‘Agent Hawkins, your reinstatement is conditional on-’

‘On what? My immediate return? Luca watched a hawk circle lazily over the back field. ‘You put me on leave without breaking a sweat. Now you want me to drop everything and come running back?’

Another pause. Longer this time. When Marshall spoke again, the authority had leaked from his voice like air from a punctured tire. ‘Fine. I’ll give you until tomorrow. How does that sound?’

‘Friday sounds better.’

‘Don’t push this, Hawkins.’

‘I’ll start making plans. Not sure what day I’ll arrive, though. Until then I can just work from home.’

The connection might have been fuzzy, but Luca heard Marshall’s sigh as clear as day. ‘Very well. Keep me in the loop.’

On the ground below, Luca’s mom appeared in her purple robe. She began waving a giant wooden spoon. Either she was warning him to get down or telling him she’d made breakfast.

‘Gotta go, sir. I’ll report to you when I get back.’

‘Be sure that-’

Luca hung up before Marshall could resurrect his spine.

The old fool was on countdown to unemployment, because all of the top dogs at the Bureau were about to be replaced by the end of January.

New government meant new faces, so Luca figured Marshall was throwing his weight around while he still could.

‘Chops.’ Luca’s mom glanced up and shielded her eyes against the morning sun. ‘How many times have I told you? Get down. It’s a death trap up there.’

‘Or maybe you ought to repair these roofs once in a while, ma.’

‘No roofers around here anymore. And I’m not made of money.’

‘I’ll lend it to you. Why have you got a spoon?’

‘Get down and I’ll tell you.’

Luca climbed down from the roof and hit wet grass with a squelch. Massachusetts winters had two settings: freeze your nuts off or make everything damp enough to grow mold. Today was firmly in mold territory.

He followed his mother into a kitchen that looked like a bomb had gone off in a flour factory.

Every surface hosted some stage of culinary chaos.

Three different cakes cooled on racks. Something that smelled suspiciously like his grandmother’s secret-recipe bread pudding bubbled in the oven.

A mountain of cookie dough waited its turn.

‘Jesus, ma. It’s ten in the morning. You expecting a famine?’

Patricia Hawkins didn’t look up from the batter she began violently whipping into submission. ‘Megan’s coming home too. Her flight gets in at twelve. She’s bringing the kids.’

Megan was Luca’s sister. By his count, he hadn’t seen her since last Christmas.

‘And this,’ he gestured at the baking apocalypse, ‘is your response?’

‘Those kids eat like pigs. You should have seen how much cake you put away when you were five.’

‘Why’s she coming back?’

‘I thought you’d be more excited.’

‘I am. I’m just surprised,’ Luca said.

‘She’s coming to see you. The girls have been talking about Uncle Luca super cop for ages.’ Patricia threw down her spoon and wiped her hands. ‘And I get both of my babies in the same place for the first time in years. You don’t have to rush off back to D.C., do you?’

Luca leaned against the counter and weighed his options.

On one side: returning to the Bureau where Marshall would immediately throw him into the deep end.

On the other: a chance to be a son, uncle and brother for a few days, and spend time with two nieces who he knew more from pictures than real life.

The Bureau had dumped him without a second thought when it suited them. His family had never once shut the door on him, even when he probably deserved it.

But then there was Ella.

She’d asked him to stay away for his own safety. She didn’t need the distraction of worrying about him being in the killer’s crosshairs.

All things considered, it was an easy decision.

‘No,’ Luca said, surprised at how right the answer felt. ‘I don’t have to go anywhere.’

His mother’s face brightened in that way it did whenever she won an argument she hadn’t technically been having. ‘Good. You can pick up your sister at Logan.’

‘What? Me?’

‘Yeah. I gotta finish this baking.

Deputy Director Marshall would just have to wait. The world wouldn’t end if Agent Hawkins took a few more days of the leave he’d been unceremoniously placed on. The Bureau had managed without him this long; they could survive until he was good and ready to return.