The Next Accident - Lisa Gardner [17]
Standing beside Kimberly, Mandy faltered. She looked at the strange man, snapping away furiously, and her lower lip began to tremble.
Their father continued, “If you ever see someone like him, girls, don’t be afraid to leave the area. Always trust your instincts. Head straight to the nearest security booth, or if you feel that’s too far away, duck in behind a woman walking with children. He’ll assume she’s your mother, too, and give up the chase.”
“What are you going to do?” Kimberly asked him breathlessly.
“I’m going to pass along his description to security. Then I’m going to come back here tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. If he’s still coming around, we’ll find an excuse to arrest him. That’ll at least give him pause.”
“I want to go home!” Mandy wailed and started to cry.
Kimberly looked at her older sister without comprehension. Then she turned back to her father, who was sighing at having set off good old Mandy again. Kimmy didn’t blame him. Mandy always got upset. Mandy always cried. But not Kimberly.
She gazed up at her father proudly, and in September, when her new teacher asked each child what her parents did for a living, Kimberly declared that her daddy was Superman. The other kids teased her for months. She never did recant.
Her father protected happy children from horrible strange men. Someday, she wanted to do that, too.
Except for this afternoon, when she merely wanted her pulse to slow and her breathing to ease and the bright spots in front of her eyes to disappear. Dr. Andrews had suggested trying biofeedback. She did that now, focusing on her hands and imagining them getting warm, warmer, hot.
The world slowly opened up. The sky became blue again, the grass green, the streets bustling. The hair was no longer standing up at the nape of her neck. The sweat cooled on her brow.
Kimberly finally relaxed her grip on her book bag. She let herself conduct a slow, sweeping circle of everything around her.
“See now,” she murmured to herself. “Everyone’s just going about their business, having a perfectly usual day. There’s no one watching, there’s nothing to fear. It’s all in your head, Kimmy. It’s all in your head.”
She resumed walking, but at the intersection she hesitated again. She paused. She turned. She felt that chill. And even though it was a hot July day. Even though she was smart and rational and the strong member of the Quincy family, she started running and she didn’t stop for a long, long time.
5
Quantico, Virginia
Driving through Quantico, Quincy approached the FBI Academy’s guard post, located behind the Marines’ facilities, and finally slowed his car. He waited for the young security officer to spot his identifying window sticker, then nodded when the officer signaled for him to proceed. Quincy waved his thanks, but didn’t take it personally when the security officer remained grim. It was the guard’s job to appear intimidating at all times, he knew. On the other hand, it made an interesting start of work each day.
Not much of a sleeper, Quincy had risen at three A.M. to drive to Seattle and catch a direct flight to DC. He’d spent so many years flying all over the country that layovers had become unbearable to him and he’d do just about anything to hasten the trip. Cars, he liked and his new thing was to avoid planes altogether and drive. He’d thought that might change after Mandy’s accident. It hadn’t.
Reaching the outdoor lot next to the firing ranges, Quincy parked his car, then walked across the street to the back entrance of the building. He waved his ID card in front of the security scanner. It graciously let him in.
Taking the stairs down two flights to the BSU offices, he passed a fellow agent. Quincy nodded in greeting. Special Agent Deacon nodded back while judiciously avoiding his gaze. It had been like that for the last four weeks; Quincy barely noticed anymore. His daughter had died tragically, which was awkward in the best of circumstances,