There was something about Robert Magellan that made Sam’s head spin, he was thinking as he followed the other two men down the hall. The man was decisive. He evaluated situations and people very quickly, then made a decision and moved on, which had obviously worked well for him in business.

Sam was almost to the stairwell when his phone rang. He looked at the ID and called ahead to Robert.

“I’ll meet you down there.” Sam held up his ringing phone. “FBI.”

He went back to his office and closed the door.

“Fiona?”

“Yes, Sam, it’s me.” She sounded rushed and excited. “Listen, Sam, I’m coming back out there in the morning. I’m going to have a little company. Do you think we could use your conference room?”

“I guess so. I don’t know why we couldn’t, but I’ll clear it and let you know if there’s a problem.” He sat on the side of his desk. “Who’s coming with you?”

“Annie McCall and possibly John.”

“Why?” The word tumbled from his mouth before he could stop it.

“Because there’s been another killing.”

“Another…”

“Three Saturdays ago.” She paused as if waiting for him to react. When he did not, she said, “August fifteenth, Sam.”

He hadn’t forgotten the date, but at that moment, he hadn’t been thinking that it had been three weeks since the third anniversary of Carly’s death.

“So we’re gathering the guns to talk this over,” she went on.

“Where this time?”

“Sanderson, Virginia.”

Sam felt his knees go weak.

“We were living there when Carly was murdered,” he whispered.

“I know. John told me. He wants to talk to you tomorrow, alone, so he’s going to arrive around ten if that works for you.”

“That works.”

“Great. I’ll let him know. If there’s a change, give me a call. Annie will be flying in to the Philly airport and I’ll pick her up around eleven, then we’ll drive out there together. I’m having copies of the case in question delivered to you overnight so we’ll all be getting a first look at the same time. Any questions?”

“No.” Sam cleared his throat. “Not right now.”

“Sam, I’m so sorry. I was hoping… we were all hoping… that the others would turn out to be a fluke somehow.”

“Yeah. Me too.” No one more than me. “So, is Will working on that list of cases?”

“He said as soon as he’s done he’ll email it to all of us at the same time.”

“Thanks, Fiona.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sam.” She disconnected before he could say anything else.

Sam sat for a while staring out the window trying to collect his thoughts, his palms sweating and his stomach in knots. Another death. Each one felt so personal to him, obscene gestures only he could see.

He’d been in Barcelona on August fifteenth, one of those places he and Carly always talked about visiting but never found time to get to. His entire trip had been planned that way, taking her memory to every place they’d talked about visiting someday but hadn’t gotten around to. The weeks he’d spent traveling had exhausted him. Mind, body, spirit-all had suffered through every leg of his trip. He’d spent the last two weeks with his parents at their B and B in Tuscany, trying to heal, trying to find the strength to move on. He thought he’d been making some real progress-and then this.

“Sam? Did you get tied up on the phone or something?” Emme called from the hallway. “Everyone’s downstairs in the kitchen, waiting for you.”

“I’ll be right there,” he answered.

He blew out a long hot breath, then went downstairs to join the others. There was no avoiding the meeting, since Robert was the one who’d called it. Besides, Sam told himself, he wanted to get it all out there in the open. Maybe then it wouldn’t feel so much like a festering wound.

In the end, it hadn’t been as bad as he’d feared. Once the initial shock had passed, and the appropriate sympathy had been offered, the core of the Mercy Street Foundation got down to work.

Mallory and Emme-both having been police officers in the past-thought maybe Sam shouldn’t be involved in the case. Kevin, Susanna, Trula, and Robert-none of whom had ever worked in law enforcement-agreed that he should stay at the forefront of the investigation as long as he was comfortable doing so.

“The decision could be taken out of our hands,” Sam told them. “The FBI might want us to back off.”

“Can they do that?” Trula frowned. “If this is a private firm, and we have a client who has asked us for help, how can the FBI make us butt out?”

“I think they can strongly suggest it. But let’s not jump to conclusions. I’m only bringing it up because my former boss-who is head of the special investigative unit I worked with-along with the agent who is handling the federal case and their top profiler will be here in the morning.” Sam turned to the side of the table where Mallory and Robert both sat. “Will it be all right if we use the conference room?”

“Absolutely. Use whatever you need. I don’t think I want us to go head-to-head with the FBI. There are going to be times when we will need them to cooperate with us.” Robert appeared thoughtful.

“I think I might have mentioned to Fiona-Special Agent Summers-that we had a contract with Lynne Walker.” Sam thought he should clear this up. “Do we?”

“No, but we should.” Mallory nodded. “We definitely should. I’ll draw one up right after lunch and email it to our attorney. Once he signs off on it-assuming there are no problems with it-I’ll email it to Lynne Walker. She can fax it back to me.”

“Do we know if she has a fax in her house?” Trula asked.

“She faxed me some information she’d forgotten to send with the file, and the number was the same as her home number,” Mallory told her, “so yes, it should be simple for her. I’ll tell her I just realized we’d neglected to send it before. I don’t expect a problem with her.”

“Great. So unless we have a problem with the FBI, we’re all agreed that Sam should stay with this case.” Robert scanned the faces around the table.

“I’m not agreeing one hundred percent,” Emme told him, “but I’ll go along with it.”

“Mal?” Robert asked.

“Sure. We’re already into it. Let’s stick with it.”

“Suse?”

“As long as Sam is willing, why not?”

“Trula, Kevin, and I have already voiced our opinions, so Sam, unless you want out, as far as the Foundation is concerned, this one is still yours.”

“I don’t want out,” Sam told them. “I never wanted out. But I do think Lynne Walker deserves an explanation.”

“And I think you should give her one at the appropriate time.” Robert nodded in agreement. “I trust you’ll know when that is.” He slapped a hand on the table. “So that’s that. Sam stays in.”

Robert turned to Mallory. “So tell me how we’re going to go about finding some really great lab people. And what do we think about the lab itself? Should we buy a building somewhere, or should we build one here…?”

Just like that, Sam thought, his head spinning. A little discussion, a little consensus or not, and the matter was decided by committee. Then on to the next topic, whatever that might be. Coming from the FBI, he wasn’t used to a democratic approach.

He smiled. Robert Magellan’s process could very well grow on him.