Tender Is The Night(17)

"Did you know Alan Jenkins?" Devin asked.

Casey nodded. "Sure. He was here three to four times a week. But he dropped his membership a long time ago."

"Three weeks after Baines died," Kate said.

"Is that supposed to mean something?" Casey asked.

"We don't know," she said. "Did Alan and Rick spend time together? Pete  told us earlier that he thought they were high school friends."

"Now that you mention it, I think they did go to high school together.  They were friends, but they could get into it, too. Alan left a sweaty  towel on a machine one day, and Rick got after him about it. They had a  shouting match in the middle of the gym. I think that was right before  Rick died. But I do remember that after we all heard the news, Alan was  very upset."

"Do you know why Alan moved to San Diego?" Devin asked.

"No idea. Sorry." She paused. "So you think someone else killed Rick and that woman? Are you suggesting that it was Alan?"

"Would Alan be capable of committing such a crime?"

"I can't imagine that he would be, but then I didn't think Rick could do it, either."

"Thanks for your time," Devin said. "And thanks for the class. It was great."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'm sorry I can't help you more."

As they walked out of the studio into the main gym, Kate said, "The class was better than the information we gathered."

"Casey didn't have much to give us," he agreed. "Hopefully, we can  confirm Alan Jenkins went to St. Bernadette's when we get the yearbooks  tomorrow."

"But Jenkins doesn't live here anymore, so he couldn't have set Monday's fire at the school."

"He's still a connection. We have to find a way to reach him."

"We've called him. Not much else we can do at this point," he said.

"Then I think I'll take a shower. Maybe the hot water will give me some  new ideas," she said, as they walked toward the locker room.

"Ever the optimist."

"Investigating is always one step forward, two steps back-you know that, Devin."

"In my case, it's usually one step forward, a hundred steps back," he said cynically.

She gave him a playful punch in the arm. "As long as there's still that one step in a positive direction … "

Her words teased a reluctant smile out of him.

"Take your shower and come up with a brilliant new plan," he said. "Maybe then I'll be as optimistic as you are."



* * *



A half an hour later, she was warm, dry, and clear-headed.  Unfortunately, she had no brilliant plan in her head, just a lot of  swirling thoughts. She stuffed her sweaty clothes into a duffel bag,  then went out to the lobby.

Devin was waiting for her. "How do you feel about sushi?" he asked.

"We have a long-term, committed relationship."

He smiled. "Good to know. There's a great place not far from here."

"Excellent. I think we've earned ourselves some calories."

As they drove toward the sushi place, she checked her phone. "Nothing from Emma. I don't know why she hasn't called me back."

"She could have been ordered to stay out of it."         

     



 

"I hope not. I'm going to assume she's just super busy." She saw the  gleam in his eyes and beat him to the punch. "And, yes, I know I'm being  optimistic. It's who I am, Devin. You're going to have to deal with  it-for at least the next few days. Then you can be spared my happy  thoughts."

"I guess I can last that long," he said dryly. "Just don't try to make me hopeful."

"I don't believe in knocking my head against a brick wall-too painful."

"I think you like to knock your head against a brick wall. The harder the better-the sweeter the victory."

Okay, he might be partially right, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "Just drive."

"I don't have to; we're here."

He pulled into a parking lot, and a few minutes later, they entered the restaurant.

Kaz Sushi was a trendy Japanese restaurant, and even at nine o'clock on a  Thursday night, it was still crowded with diners. After perusing the  menu, they ordered several platters to share and a couple of glasses of  water. She drank half of hers in one long sip.

"Still hydrating?" he teased.

"That class was not for amateurs."

"I thought you were a runner."

"I've been busy lately. And you can't seriously tell me you didn't feel a little challenged by the workout."

"It was intense, but I enjoyed it. Working out has been the only thing keeping me sane."

"All evidence to the contrary," she joked.

"Hey, I was worse right after the fire."

"I believe that." She set down her water glass. "Have you ever thought  about quitting, Devin? It's been a long time. I know since Monday's  fire, you've gotten amped up again, but what about before? What about  all the long months in between?"

"They were hell, but I never thought about quitting. I haven't found Sam's killer, and until I do, I'll keep working the case."

"Even when there's nothing to work? What about your life, Devin? What about your dreams?"

"My only dream is to solve this puzzle."

"What about friends? Do you have any? Do you ever do anything fun? Do  you go to ballgames? Do you drink? Pick up women? Any of the above?"

"Are you done?"

"That depends on if you're going to answer any of my questions."

"Why do you care what I do with my life?"

"I don't care, but I'm curious. You seem … isolated."

"Work can do that. Aren't you just as isolated? The job takes everything from you."

"I still make time for friends, for myself." She frowned, thinking that  wasn't completely true, but she was living far from her friends and  forging a new life for herself. "And I'm working for me, for my career,  my goals. The devotion and loyalty you have for Sam is admirable and  amazing. But I can't imagine that she holds you responsible for her  death."

"You don't know that."

"I've worked with partners and so have you. We all do our best, but  sometimes bad things still happen. I might have only been on the job a  year, but I've already seen that." She took a breath. "I would hate for  you to wake up one day and suddenly realize a decade had passed, and you  were still stuck in the same place."

"This won't take a decade."

"It might."

"Hey, you're supposed to be the optimistic one," he reminded her. "Don't go dark on me now."

"Fine, let's talk about something else."

"Thank God."

She smiled at his heartfelt relief. "Most men like to talk about  themselves. They brag and boast for hours on end, and then at the last  minute, right before you're about to leave, they say something like: how  was your day?"

"I can't believe you let anyone get away with that."

"Sometimes it's hard to get a word in edgewise."

"You seem up to the task," he said with a smile. "Have you dated anyone at the Bureau?"

She immediately shook her head. "No, I don't need to add that complication into my life."

"Not even at Quantico? I saw more than a few relationships start there."

"I wouldn't call them relationships. And, no, I didn't get involved with  anyone there. I was more concerned with passing all the tests and  becoming an agent. There's no way I could have gone back to my family if  I flunked out."

"What do you like about the job so far?"

"Everything."

He rested his forearms on the table as he gave her a thoughtful look. "Not everything. Be more specific."

"I don't know. I've been moved around a lot the past year."

He nodded. "There's always a process to get agents with the right skillsets for the right jobs. What have you worked on?"         

     



 

"I've done a couple of fraud investigations, a counterfeit operation  sting, and most recently I was part of a task force trailing a possible  domestic terrorist group in Colorado. They were all interesting."

"But?"

"I didn't say but … "

He held her gaze. "Kate."

"But," she admitted, "I really want to work kidnappings. I want to find  people who are lost. I want to help put their families back together.  Unfortunately, for some reason that's one of the jobs I haven't been  given a shot at yet."

"That's on purpose. The Bureau knows your background. They want to test  your mettle before they put you on a case that will have more of an  emotional impact."

"I think I've proven my mettle."

"They have to think so, too. You're young. You have a long way to go. But you'll go at the Bureau's pace, not yours."

"I know. I'm really not complaining. I love the job. And I tell myself that whatever I'm working on is important."

"Does that help?"

"Most of the time," she said, acknowledging the gleam in his eyes. "I  can't help it. I'm a little impatient. I always have been. When I want  something, I want it that second."