The FBI Thrillers Collection Books 6-10 - Catherine Coulter [609]
Jon Bender broke in when he returned. “I’ve been trying to talk Elsa into giving me another chance, Agent Savich.”
The hand in Savich’s stiffened a bit, then relaxed. She wasn’t ready to let go of him yet, and that was fine.
“I’ve promised her over and over I won’t ever be an ass-hole again.”
And glory of glories, Elsa Bender laughed. She looked up in the direction of her ex-husband’s voice. “Perhaps you won’t,” she said. “The kids seem to think you won’t. Perhaps.”
Sherlock looked closely at Jon Bender’s face, studied his eyes as he looked at Elsa. “You know what, Elsa? I think this guy of yours has learned what’s important to him.”
Ten minutes later, Savich clasped Elsa’s hands in both of his and pulled her slowly to her feet, letting the afghan pool at her feet. She wasn’t quite steady.
He said, “You’re going to be fine, Elsa. Jon is going to bundle you up and take you for a nice walk, maybe make some hot chocolate when you get back. It’ll put color back in your cheeks.”
IT WAS NEARLY nine o’clock Wednesday night when Savich knocked on Sheriff Noble’s front door. They heard Brewster’s big-dog bark, footsteps running to the front door before it was flung open, Rob and Rafe elbowing each other to be front and center.
“Hello, Special Agent Savich. Hello, Special Agent Sherlock. Did you shoot anyone today?”
“Oh yes,” Sherlock said immediately. “It was all blood and gore. Took me forever to wash it all off.”
“Dude! Really, tell us everything you did. Not just the boring stuff like Dad does, but the cool stuff?”
Savich smiled for the first time since leaving Washington hours before. He hugged both boys quickly, breathing in their excitement, their teenage love of anything gruesome. In ten years or so would Sean be asking the same things?
Rob said, “We waited dinner for you until Dad said he was going to gnaw on his elbows if he didn’t eat. We had bouillabaisse, Ms. McCutcheon brought it over because she knows Dad likes it. It was okay if you like fish.”
“Dillon, come on in the living room,” Ruth called out, before appearing in the doorway, Dix at her shoulder. “We’ve got some delicious tea, some scones that Millie of Millie’s Deli made herself, just for the Feds, and Dix and I had something really interesting happen today, but never mind that just now. Boys, bring in the Federal agents and let’s eat.”
“So how was your day?” Dix asked as he handed out scones.
Sherlock smiled as she took a cup of tea from Ruth. “Actually, our afternoon was great. We took Sean out to build a snowman, poured hot chocolate down his gullet, and listened to him talk nonstop about his grandmother’s new puppy.” She rolled her eyes. “I have a feeling there’ll be barking in our house very soon now.”
“Dogs are good,” Dix said as he gave Brewster a pat. “This little guy keeps my neck warm at night.”
Rob and Rafe finally went off to bed after nearly an hour and four more scones, Savich and Sherlock having filled their ears with horrifying, thoroughly fictional tales of mayhem in the suburbs of Philadelphia. Dix waited another couple of minutes until he was sure it was quiet upstairs, then nodded. “Okay, they’re down for the count. Tell us what really happened in Philadelphia. Could that poor woman tell you anything about Moses Grace and Claudia?”
Savich said, “Yeah, she did. Her name’s Elsa Bender. She’s going to be all right. I mean, I think the future looks pretty good for her.” Savich looked over at Dix and Ruth, who were sitting on the sofa opposite him and Sherlock, Brewster sleeping between them. He pulled a photo out of his shirt pocket. “This is the Bender daughter, Annie. She’s seventeen in the photo—tall, slender, nearly white-blond hair, big blue eyes. Elsa Bender says she looks like Claudia.”
Ruth studied the photo. “She looks