‘Even the Christian god is not all golden harmony.’
‘The Christian god of sacrifice.’ Simon’s eyes light.‘Think not that I am come to bring peace on earth: I came not to bring peace, but a sword.’
Kristin knows that she is understood. ‘The form of god contains everything – it is a spectrum of light and darkness. And each human being is a reflection of that form, that spectrum.’ She feels her own yearning show in her face. ‘Simon, we are one being. One person. And we contain a spectrum. I look at you, and I see the lightning I witnessed in the sky last night – wild and brutal and unrestrained. You are my twin. My other half. Without each other, we live only pitiful half-lives. Without each other, the excesses of our natures exist out of balance. We must exist together, or fall apart. I love you, Simon. Iamyou – and you are me.’
Simon’s eyes are glistening with tears.‘Our state cannot be severed, we are one, one flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself.’
‘You ask me if I have doubts.’ Kristin finds her own eyes blinking wet. Without moving her gaze from her brother, she raises a hand to her hair and begins unwinding the razor blade she has hidden in her ice-white tresses. ‘Simon, I have no doubts. I only want to get you out of here.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
In the dark interior of the Lincoln, Travis is driving because he knows the roads best. Emma grips the door handle of the car, feeling tough vinyl, and sweat on her palm. They’re driving through the Liberty Tunnel; she watches the white tile and tunnel markings and identical lights go backward, as though she and Travis in the car are standing still, and their surrounds are in motion.
The air in the Lincoln smells stale and she still feels antsy, but it’s infinitely better than pacing the bullpen. Just moving toward a destination is providing a measure of relief. She knows that Travis has done everything he can to ensure this all follows procedure: he’s got Faye calling Carter until she gets through, and he’s sent a message to the local field office. He even argued to get the use of a Motorola phone pack, now stashed on the back seat in case of emergencies.
Everything is squared away. Anxiety is still gnawing at her, though.
Emma tries to calm her mind. Carter has a solid lead in Crafton, and this Beechview address is just a warehouse that has some dustycartons of nail polish. It’s a distraction – Emma recognizes that, but she also recognizes that in this moment, it’s a distraction she needs. Better to be moving, acting, than dwelling on what’s happening with Linda and the strike team. She can’t save Linda, but she can still do something.
It’s branded into you, to return and try to save.
‘Shut up.’Emma doesn’t need Simon’s voice in her head right now. And she doesn’t realize she’s spoken aloud until Travis glances at her sharply.
‘Sorry?’
‘Nothing.’ Emma shakes her head. They’re coming out of the tunnel. Travis’s hands are firm on the steering wheel.
‘Are you okay with this?’ Emma asks suddenly.
‘Nope.’ He’s leaning to see better through the windshield, eyes forward. ‘I’m not really okay with any of this. But I’d rather be here than sitting in the squad room, listening to you cuss out the scanner.’
‘Huh.’ Emma sees his mouth twitch up, feels strangely comforted. That Travis passed on Audrey’s number, that he’s going along with this – it means a lot. She lets her shoulders settle. ‘All right.’
There’s a pause.
‘And I just …’ Travis chews on his bottom lip. ‘Kristin said something to me. She said that I’m divided. That my loyalty is torn between working with the FBI and my connection with you. It’s been bugging me.’
‘Why would she say that?’ Emma frowns. ‘And why has it been bugging you?’
He is determinedly looking away. ‘Because it sets up those things as contradictory. Like I can’t be FBI and also support you. As if doing my job and following orders puts me in opposition with you. I don’t know what to make of that. But it feels uncomfortable, so maybe there’s something in it.’
Emma watches the buildings as they navigate off West Liberty Avenue onto Brookside, then toward the traffic lights at Sebring Avenue. She thinks about how to reply. ‘I can’t make a judgment on what Kristin meant, or what it means about your job. I can say that I’ve never felt supported by the FBI. I’ve always felt that they’re … kind of ashamed of me. The fact I escaped Huxton without their help, and then reminded them of it, rankles them. We raised some hackles during the Hoyt investigation, too. And I feel like they think I’m a means to an end – a useful tool in their arsenal.’
Travis glances over. ‘I’m sorry the bureau hasn’t treated you right. I saw it during the first Pittsburgh briefing, and after Paradise, and it pissed me off. It sucks, and I understand why you felt used.’
She has to say it. She watches the traffic lights turn from red to green. ‘I worry that if you keep working with them, you’ll change. Become more official, less … you. Institutions have a way of changing people.’
Travis makes the turn. ‘I don’t want to change the kind of person I am. I got into this job because of my dad, and what he stood for. For me, it’s always been about both catching bad guysandhelping people.’
Emma glances down at her lap. ‘My grievances against the bureau are mine. I think they can do good work. But they’re part of a system. They use people up, and they don’t listen.’
Travis looks at her long enough that she worries he’s not paying attention to the road. ‘I want to be someone who listens.’
Emma experiences a sudden clarity, and it resembles their trip through the tunnel: like everything around her is in motion and she is momentarily suspended. Something inside her, some awareness about the way she regards Travis, is shifting – she can feel it. Maybe it shifted a while ago, and she’s only just realized he’s more than simply her partner. She wants to prolong this conversation to its natural end, but Travis is back in action, navigating over Broadway and turning at the T-junction. Now they’re on Rutherford Avenue.
In the sealskin twilight, the houses around them are large, double-storied, mostly brick. They’re spaced well apart, with big sloping yards. Lots of trees and large gardens. Emma frowns, uneasy. This doesn’t look like a warehouse area.
‘What number?’ Travis asks, as they crawl down the street.
