Page 66 of The Killer She Knew

“He killed Alice Dietz to bring me back here, said he knew I wouldn’t be able to turn down the opportunity for closure. I guess he was right.” Ford—the man she’d known as Ford—recreated the one crime that would guarantee her showing up exactly where he wanted her. Where it all started. And she’d fallen straight into his trap. Oh, hell. She’d even kissed him. Agreed to a date with him. If her brother ever found out, she’d never live it down.

“He was good at reading people’s weaknesses. If it wasn’t obvious before now, you’re one of mine.” The doubt had left his voice. “I’m sorry I disappeared on you without explaining. I know what giving me an alibi cost you, and I wanted to make it clear how grateful I am for you putting your trust in me. If I could go back, I would do things differently.”

Trust. Did she trust him? She had then. She wasn’t so sure now, but she didn’t really know him now.

“I know why you did it. Doesn’t mean I’m not still mad about it.” Eleven people dead. All because Dean wouldn’t let a killer getaway with murder. A man after her own heart. Who believed evil should be punished, and that they could do something about it. Her voice failed her. “I was in love with you.”

“I was in love with you, too.” Dean set those dark eyes on her. Unwavering. “The second you rammed me with a moving box in that stairwell, you had me.”

She couldn’t stopper the laugh escaping up her sore throat.

“Do you think maybe we could start over?” Dean waited a beat, reaching for her hand at the edge of the bed. “I’ll let you throw another box at me if it’ll make you feel better.”

Hope knotted tight in her gut. She had a lot to consider. Taking another sabbatical from cases. Moving back to Clarksburg. Starting fresh with Ava. But that need for connection pulsed at the idea of reaching out. She’d thought Ford—the son of a bitch—could fix the isolation she’d clung to all these years, but while she’d fulfilled his need for understanding, he’d failed to meet hers in the end.

Maybe it was the fact she’d already taken that first step. Maybe it was Dean himself and everything they’d left unfinished, but she’d already made her decision. He was offering a future. One that didn’t come with so much doubt or fear. Leigh tightened her hold on his hand. “The next box I throw at you won’t be packed with pillows.”

EPILOGUE

Clarksburg, Virginia

Saturday, January 11

6:43 p.m.

Three months later…

She’d faced down killers, but this was so much worse.

Leigh hadn’t been on a date in… too damn long. If nerves could kill, she’d already be on the medical examiner’s slab. Why the hell had she agreed to this? They were still unpacking their new apartment—another two-bedroom, two-bathroom—and trying to settle back into Clarksburg. The move wasn’t as life-disrupting as Quantico, but she had yet to get used to working remote for the BAU. It was temporary. She and Ava both knew that. Sooner or later, Director Livingstone’s patience would run out, and Leigh would have to step back onto active scenes. Until then, they would soak up what time they had together. Which apparently included getting a life that didn’t have anything to do with Ava. Ava’s words.

“Stop touching your hair. You’re going to ruin it.” Ava swatted her hand away for the tenth time and grabbed for some flyaways. Joke was on her. Leigh’s entire head was one giant flyaway. There was no saving it. “Hold still. I need to fix your eye shadow.”

“If this is what it’s like getting back into the dating scene, you’re never allowed to date.” Leigh flinched back as her daughter nearly poked her in the eye. “I’m going to sweat through my dress if he doesn’t get here soon. Do I have anything in my teeth?”

“For the millionth time, he’s seen you covered in blood and unconscious. I don’t think food in your teeth is going to make him run for the hills.” Ava added more hair oil—what the hell was hair oil?—to one side of the updo. Then stepped back with approval lining her face. “You should’ve just screwed him after you closed the case. Then you wouldn’t have three months of nerves.”

“Ava Portman, I better not hear anything more about screwing come out of your mouth until you’re eighteen.” But, for real, her daughter had a point. This was torture. And she would know. She’d lived through it. Leigh smoothed invisible wrinkles from her slacks. Armor in place. “Do you think I could make it far if I slipped out the window before he got here?”

It was only fair. He’d disappeared on her for eighteen years. What was one night? Three knocks at the front door sealed her fate.

“Too late.” Ava flashed a saccharine smile. “I messaged him an hour ago to come early in case you tried to bail.”

“You’re grounded. Forever,” Leigh said. “No phone. No TV. No friends. From this moment on, you’re an inaccessible island.”

Her daughter closed in for a tight hug. “Answer the door, Mom. It’s going to be okay. I promise. And if it isn’t, I learned how to get rid of a body without raising suspicion.”

She still wasn’t used to that. Ava calling her mom, but the fifteen-year-old had made a good point when Leigh had asked. There were thousands of people who were being raised by two moms. Why couldn’t she be one of them?

“I don’t like that joke.” Leigh released her hold and sucked in a deep breath. She could do this. It’d been so long since she’d allowed herself to dream about the future. She was ready to leave the past—and all the secrets she’d carried—behind. Reaching for the doorknob, she swung the door open and faced off with the man who’d sacrificed so much for the chance to get to this moment. To her. And looking at Dean now, she was glad she hadn’t ducked out the back. “I’m ready.”

*