Page 48 of The Devoted Game

Martin moved restlessly about the room. He picked up the newspaper, folded it neatly, and placed it on the table next to his recliner, then straightened the throw his wife insisted hang across the back.

He had planned each challenge very carefully. There was absolutely no margin for error where emotions were concerned. Precise calculations of each move and estimations of the possible repercussions wereessential. He had studied criminal investigations in-depth ... He knew all the essential steps. Had followed hundreds of cases on television and online. He knew how this worked. His planning was too careful for such a deviation!

The news flashed Quinn’s and Braden’s images.

How could this be?

Three years! If the poor man hadn’t sought his vengeance in three years, why now? Martin had watched interviews with Derrick Braden that first year after his son’s death. The man hadn’t been a fool. He had surely known that there was a possibility the Bureau had failed in some way. Martin could have told him that. The Bureau failed far too often.

The second year after his son’s death, in honor of his memory, Braden had started a website to instruct parents in how to spot the signs of an abusive family member or friend. Martin had admired that effort.

Calm down, Martin.

“What?” He turned a bit too sharply to face his beloved wife. “How can I calm down?”

She smiled at him patiently.You must carry on.

But he knew she was right. He couldn’t fall to pieces over this unexpected and unfortunate turn of events. His mission was far too important. He must carry on.

Still, the timing was essential. Deirdre wasn’t math inclined, so she didn’t quite understand just how serious this other glitch in the schedule could prove. The business on the news was one thing, but the schedule change quite another.

He had to stop replaying the news report over and over in his mind. That tragedy was not his doing ... not part of his plan. Focus was necessary to his success. He had spent twenty-five years paying attention to the most insignificant details in his work. Distractions could not be tolerated, then or now.

The question of “Why now?” persisted, making him anxious.

Three years ago, every single thing about the Braden case had played out in the media. Special Agent McBride had been crucified!Braden hadn’t gone after him or his superior then—not in all this time. Why this sudden violence over a mere news report that finally told some semblance of truth that the man could have deduced on his own?

Martin could not reconcile this behavior.

McBride was a saint ... a hero that came along only once.

It’s time the world knew.

Deirdre was right. She always was.

As unfortunate as this sad news was, sacrifice was at times necessary for justice to be realized. If this was one of those times, then so be it.

He would move forward with his plans and put this other distressing business aside.

“Of course, you’re always right, dear,” he said to her. “This is not an insurmountable setback. The news about Braden and Quinn is simply none of my concern.” He lifted his shoulders ever so slightly. “Though I must say, Quinn surely deserved no better.”

Deirdre didn’t say as much, but he saw the agreement in her eyes. She had realized this mission to exonerate McBride had to happen before he had. She always saw things more clearly and more quickly than Martin. That was her gift. This was the least he could do for her.

Martin turned back to the news on the TV and faced this newest challenge with the knowledge that his goal was far too important to allow an unexpected encumbrance to alter his course.

To the contrary, he would do exactly as Deirdre suggested. Not only would he proceed, he would move his next objective forward to accommodate the schedule glitch.

He would triumph.

The world now knew a great deal more of the truth.

That left only the Federal Bureau of Investigation thrashing in denial.

Time to make those shortsighted fools face the music.

No one was as good as Special Agent Ryan McBride.

Once he was officially reinstated, Martin’s work would be done.