"Kava, Alex - Maggie 03 - The Soul Catcher" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kava Alex)"Fine."
Too short, too easy. This was it. She knew it. "It was fine? Really?" "We didn't actually have breakfast." A group of law enforcement officers in green polo shirts and khakis moved to the side of the walkway and let the two women pass. Used to living in the hustle and bustle of the District, Gwen always felt the treatment she received at Quantico was over the top on the polite-and-courteous Richter scale. Maggie waited for her at the next door before they started down another hallway. "Let me guess," Gwen continued as though there had been no interruption, "she didn't show up." "No, she showed up. Boy, did she show up. But I had to leave early. For this case, as a matter of fact." Gwen felt that annoying maternal instinct begin to stir - the one that only reared its ugly head when she was feeling protective of her friend. She didn't dare ask the question for fear she'd get the answer she expected. She asked, anyway. "What do you mean, boy, did she show up? She wasn't drunk, was she?" "Can we talk about this later?" Maggie said, then greeted a couple of official-looking men in suits. Gwen recognized them as other agents. Yes, this probably wasn't the best place to air the family laundry. They turned a corner and approached another walkway, this one empty. Gwen took advantage of it. "Yes, we can talk later. But just tell me now what you meant, okay?" "Jesus! Did anyone ever tell you you're a pain in the ass?" "Of course, but you must admit, it's one of my more endearing qualities." She could see Maggie smile, though she kept her attention and her eyes ahead and safely away from Gwen's. "She wants us to have Thanksgiving together." It was the last thing Gwen expected. When the silence lasted too long, she felt Maggie glance over at her. "That was sort of my response, too," Maggie said with another smile. "Well, you've been saying for some time now that she's trying to change." "Yes, her friends and her clothes and her hair. Reverend Everett seems to have helped her change quite a few things in her life, many of them for the better. But no matter what she does, she can't change history." They got to the end of the walkway, and Maggie pointed to the last door on their right. "We're here." Gwen wished they had more time. If she wasn't eternally late, maybe they would have. As they entered the conference room, the man at the end of the table stood, though it took effort and he leaned on a walking cane. His gesture prompted the other men around the table to stand, as well; Agent Tully, Keith Ganza, whom Gwen recognized as the head of the FBI crime lab, and Assistant Director Cunningham. Detective Julia Racine shifted impatiently in her chair. Maggie ignored her colleagues' clumsy attempt at courtesy and walked ahead, directly to the senator, her hand outstretched to him. "Senator Brier, I'm Special Agent Maggie O'Dell and this is Dr. Gwen Patterson. Please excuse us for being late." "That's quite all right" He shook both their hands with a brisk but bone-crushing strength, as if making up for his disabled left leg. It had been the result of a car accident, Gwen remembered, not a war injury as the media seemed quick to point out during the last election. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Senator," Gwen said and immediately saw him flinch, uncomfortable with the rise of emotion her simple condolence seemed to spark. Other than the dark circles under his eyes, Senator Brier looked impeccable, dressed in an expensive navy suit, crisp white shirt and purple silk tie with an initialed gold tie bar. Hoping to put him back at ease, Gwen noticed four initials WWJD-instead of the traditional three engraved there. "That's a lovely tie bar," she said. "If you don't mind me asking, what are the initials?" He looked down as if needing a reminder. "Oh, no, I don't mind at all. It was a gift from my assistant. He said it's supposed to help me make important decisions. I'm not much of a spiritual man, but he is, and well, it was a gift." "And the initials?" Gwen insisted, despite Cunningham's frown of impatience. "I believe it's the acronym for What Would Jesus Do." "Let's get started," Cunningham announced, waving them to their places before there could be any more wasted chitchat. Gwen took a seat close to the senator and noticed that Maggie walked clear around the table, taking a seat next to Keith Ganza and avoiding the empty one next to Racine. However, in doing so, she now sat directly across from the detective. Racine smiled at her and nodded. Maggie looked away. Gwen had forgotten why Maggie disliked the woman so much. She was certain it had something to do with a previous case they had worked together, but there was something else. Something more. What was it? She studied Racine, trying to remember. The detective was a little younger than Maggie. Maybe in her middle or late twenties, fairly young for a detective. "Senator, I know I speak for all of us when I say I'm sorry for your loss," Cunningham said, interrupting Gwen's thoughts and bringing her back to the group in front of her. "I appreciate that, Kyle. I know having me here is out of the ordinary. I don't want to get in the way, but I want to be involved." He pulled at the cuffs of his shirt and leaned his arms on the table. A nervous gesture of a man trying to keep himself together. "I need to be involved." Cunningham nodded, began opening file folders and distributing handouts across the table to each of them. "This is what we know so far." Before looking at the papers, Gwen knew this would be a watered-down version of the real story. She would need to wait until later to be filled in on the details, which only made her fidget in her chair. She hated not being prepared and wondered why Cunningham hadn't scheduled a later meeting with the senator, after the task force had had time to discuss the case. Or didn't he have a choice? Already Gwen could feel there was something about this case that didn't fit neatly into any of the regular rules and procedures. She glanced at Cunningham and found herself wondering if he really was in charge of this case. Gwen flipped through the pages and with only a glance began picking out the ambiguous terms, the safe posts that specified approximate time and cause of death, giving information without giving details. Whatever clearance or special permission Senator Brier may have gotten from Director Mueller himself, Gwen knew he would be spared the real facts. Yes, Cunningham would do his best to dilute the gruesome details, no matter who might be calling the shots. And Gwen didn't blame him. Senator or not, no father should hear about the frightening and brutal last minutes of his daughter's life. "There is one thing I need to ask up front." The senator stopped riffling through the papers, but did not look up. "Was she.. .was she raped?" Gwen watched all the men's faces, their eyes avoiding the senator's. This was something that fascinated her about men who were close to a victim, whether it be husband, father or son. Their loved one could have been beaten and stabbed beyond recognition, tortured, mutilated and brutally murdered, but somehow none of that was as awful to them as the mere thought that she may have been raped, that she may have been violated in a way incomprehensible to them. When nobody spoke, Maggie said, "The evidence is inconclusive." Senator Brier stared at her, then shook his head. "You need not spare me. I need to know." Like hell he needed to know. Gwen stopped herself as Maggie caught her eyes. Maggie looked to Cunningham as if for permission to proceed. He sat, eyes straight ahead, his hands folded over each other on the table, no indication that he wanted her to stop. Maggie continued, "We did find some vaginal semen, but there was no bruising, no tearing. Is it possible Ginny may have been with someone earlier in the evening?" Gwen saw Cunningham shoot Maggie a look of warning. He obviously hadn't expected her to ask the question. But now Maggie was no longer paying attention. Instead, she focused on the senator, waiting for his answer. Gwen wanted to smile. Good for you, Maggie. The senator looked flustered. He seemed more willing and comfortable talking about his daughter's possible rape than he did about her normal sex life. "I don't know for sure. Some of her friends might know." "It would be helpful for us to find out," Maggie continued, despite Cunningham fidgeting at the end of the table. "You can't possibly believe some boyfriend of hers did this to her, can you?" Senator Brier leaned forward, a hand twisting into a fist, crumpling a piece of paper. "That's absolutely absurd." "No, we don't believe that. Not at all, sir," Cunningham said, jumping in. "That's not what Agent O'Dell meant." He looked at Maggie, and Gwen recognized the scowl that barely transformed his always stoic face. "Is it, Agent O'Dell?" "No, of course not." Maggie appeared calm and unflustered, and Gwen was relieved. "What I meant was that we will need to determine whether or not Virginia did, in fact, have consensual sex that evening. Otherwise the semen could be important evidence in finding her murderer." |
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