Will wouldn't tell me what this new evidence was. He said he wasn't sure himself until he got to the station. He promised he'd tell me when he could, and I'd hold him to it.
Despite the detectives having been on my case for some time now I still knew very little about where their investigation was going. I asked Will why that was on the drive over and he told me it was probably because everything up to now had been circumstantial and they couldn't rule anyone out completely.
We pulled up to the station and went inside. Will sat me down in a waiting room area and disappeared to the back. He left me waiting there for so long I decided to go searching for him. While the receptionist was busy looking at paperwork I snuck past and walked down an unknown hallway like I was confident I belonged there. It seemed to work; nobody stopped me. I kept walking around until I came across a whiteboard with my name written across the top in big block letters.
There were pictures taped up to it and lots of writing. I stopped to read it, too curious to pass it by. The first set of pictures were of my injuries from the first attack. I shuddered and quickly skipped past those: I didn't need a reminder of that day. My eyes moved down to a small bulleted list of information I'd given about my attackers. They knew there were at least two, one had long red hair. The other was a complete unknown. One was suspected to be female; I remembered giving them that tip. To the side of that list were pictures of several different people I assumed were suspects.
Seeing the pictures of suspects suddenly reminded me that all this was really happening to me. My vision swam, and I got lightheaded. I tripped over my own feet and landed on the ground.
"Annie!" I heard Will's familiar voice shout and heard his footsteps move closer. Suddenly his face was swimming across my vision as he pulled me up. "Hey, breathe. You're panting. Take slower breaths. Breathe in and count to three then breathe out. There you go." He guided me to a chair and kneeled in front of me.
His voice drew me out of my daze and I was finally able to focus on his face.
"I'm okay now. Thanks." I shot him a small smile, grateful for his intervention. He smiled back, then looked at me carefully.
"What happened? Also, why are you back here? I told you to wait."
"Oh, about that..." I smiled sheepishly, "I might have gotten bored and tried to find you."
He gave me a deadpan look, though the corner of his mouth was twitching up so I knew I wasn't in serious trouble.
"How did I know you would do something like that?" He asked, fake exasperated. "Well, now that you're here, do you want me to walk you through the case we have?" I agreed, so he wheeled my chair back over to the whiteboard. "Let me know if this overwhelms you again and I'll stop," I nodded in agreement. "So here we have some suspects who don't have alibis for your attacks. We have Ashley Bennet, your old classmate who you caught cheating. There's Jaime Gomez, your current boyfriend. Then there's Lindsay Smith, the sister of the girl who killed herself after you caught her cheating. The last suspect we've been working on is an old gang member your father helped to put away who's been off the grid since he was released from prison several months ago."
I stared at the board wide-eyed. That was a lot of information to take in.
"What new evidence did you guys find?" I asked curiously.
"Do you remember that hair the vandal left on your windowsill when you ran after them? Luckily it had the root still attached, so we ran it for DNA and compared it to those of our suspects we had samples from. It was confirmed to be female DNA, but we didn't get a match on any of them. We're still working on getting DNA from some of the suspects, but we'll see. Sometimes it can take a while. Not great news, but if we ever do find someone suspicious, we now have DNA to compare them to. It doesn't mean we can eliminate anyone from this board though, since we know there were at least two people involved. I'm sorry, are you alright? I shouldn't have dumped all this on you. It's too much to take in isn't it?" Will asked, concern reflecting in his eyes.
"Yeah, maybe a little. It just became even more real to me I guess."
"Hey, don't worry. We're watching over you. I promise I won't let anything happen to you," He studied my face with his dark brown eyes. Finally he smiled and grabbed my hand, helping me to my feet. He guided me out of the station and back to his car. "Let's get your mind off it. What do you want to talk about? I'll tell you anything you want to know."
"Anything? Really?" I asked, eyebrows raised. That was a dangerous promise to make.
"Yes. Whatever you want."
He sounded so certain. Well, I could think of some things I wanted to talk about that might fluster him instead of him always having the upper hand on me.
"Alright. Let's talk about you," he looked over at me, curious, "Now I know you're an FBI agent you have no reason to hide things from me, right? I want to know who you are." I smirked. This could be fun.
He glanced at me, appearing concerned. "Um, I don't know if that's the best idea—"
"You want me to forgive you right?" I cut him off. He nodded, still keeping his eyes on the road. "Then you'll be honest and tell me whatever I want to know. If I'm going to be friends with you again I want to know who you are."
He thought about it for a minute then sighed. "Fine. I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"
"Probably." I agreed.
We fell into a comfortable silence the rest of the way back to my apartment. He looked contemplative. I was trying to come up with the best questions I could think to ask. By the time we were in my apartment, situated on the couch, I was ready.
"First question. It's an easy one. Who are your parents and where are you from?"
"Wow, I was expecting something scary. You're letting me down Annie," he winked before continuing, "My name truly is Thurston William Tucker III. My father was Thurston William Tucker II and my mom is Virginia West Tucker. We lived all over until I was about 7. That's when we settled down in Pittsburgh. I spent the rest of my youth there."
"What did you mean when you said your father "was" William Tucker? Is he gone?" I asked, not missing a trick.
"You're sharp. He died. He was in the military, so we moved around a lot until he was killed in an airport. His killer was a terrorist who tried to blow up the whole airport. He died taking the guy out so nobody else would get hurt." He answered completely straight-faced, almost as though he was reciting some boring fact. I knew better though. I could see the hurt hiding behind his eyes that he tried to keep hidden.
"What about your mom? Did she remarry? Do you have siblings?"
"Yeah, she married a guy named Steven Terry. I was the only child between her and my father, but they had three kids a few years after they married. I'm quite a bit older than them, but I still try to be there for them when I can." He smiled.
"What were you like in school? What was your favorite subject?"
"I was not really school-oriented. I was that guy on the basketball team who skipped a lot and was kind of a player. But when I was actually in school I probably liked art the best. I was always pretty good at sketching."
"I can completely see you being that guy. But art? Really?" I asked, not totally believing it.
"Yeah. It was one of the few ways I could express myself. I had to be tough at home for my mom. I wasn't really a part of her new family, not like I wanted to be. I had to rely on myself." He shrugged.
I smiled slightly. "I know how that feels."
"I know you do. That's one of the reasons I was drawn to you." He turned a charming smile at me.
"So...why else were you 'drawn to me'? I guess I'm asking if we were really friends. How were we friends if you weren't being honest with me?" I asked, hoping he'd be able to give me an answer I could accept and understand. I didn't want to leave him behind. I wanted to learn to forgive him.
He sighed. "Now we get into the hard questions. You know I was assigned to you. The first day at the sandwich shop when I saw you I knew you'd be more than an assignment to me. Even though our boss was bullying you, you held your head high. You were so strong, stronger than anyone I'd known before you. I felt like I had to get to know you. I was supposed to keep my distance, watch you from the shadows. But once I'd introduced myself you were so interesting. You drew me in with your sweet nature you hid behind a mistrusting guard. None of my previous friends had ever been so complex. You were sweet but tough, vulnerable but capable of taking care of yourself. And you were fun to be around. You made me smile, made me enjoy spending time with you. Despite me not being able to share the details of my life I was always myself with you. I couldn't help but be myself with you. Unfortunately, I had to lie about some things. I had to keep things from you. But I never wanted to. If I could have, I would have told you the truth from day one."
His eyes were begging me to forgive him. I could see the guilt in them. But I wasn't sure how to feel about him. I didn't think I was ready yet. So I decided to avoid the uncomfortable conversation and keep asking questions instead.
"Ok. So, how many girlfriends have you had?" I asked, hoping the question would lighten the mood.
He immediately looked uncomfortable. "You really wanna talk about girlfriends?" I nodded vehemently and he groaned. "Fine. I told you I was a player in high school. Once I hit college on a basketball scholarship I started to calm down a little with girls. So excluding high school, maybe 4 actual girlfriends."
"Is this including Becca?"
For some reason this question made him blush and duck his head. "No, not including her."
"Why not?" I cocked my head to the side.
"I wasn't really dating her. I was mainly using her to...never mind." He wouldn't look at me.
"Using her to what?" He shook his head, clearly unwilling to tell me. "Come on Will! You promised you'd tell me anything. Don't you want me to forgive you?" I asked, playing dirty.
He glared at me. "That's not fair. You can't just turn my words on me like that."
I laughed. "Yes I can and stop avoiding it. Answer me please."
"Ugh, fine. I was mad at you for dating James. I knew you didn't like the idea of me dating her, so I led her on a little to make you jealous." He finally admitted, refusing to look me in the eye.
My jaw dropped. "I knew it! I knew you didn't really like her! Wait, if you've had 4 girlfriends since high school, how many have you had since you were assigned to me?" The thought suddenly occurred to me.
"Just one. I was with her when my assignment started, and I eventually broke up with her a while before you moved to New York and I met you in person. Previously, I'd been overseeing the other agent shadowing you in Pittsburgh. The job was too straining on our relationship. She felt I wasn't putting enough work into it, which was probably true. I was busy spending my time worrying about you. Since then, I haven't had time or the interest in anyone else."
"Oh." I couldn't make any words form past that at his admission. I was the reason he'd never dated anyone. That made me feel kind of bad. I didn't want to hold up his life.
"But hey, don't feel guilty. You've always been more than enough to make me happy. I wanted to spend all my time on you. You're special Annie."
He looked in my eyes and gave me a nervous sort of smile. I felt butterflies flitting around my insides suddenly. I abruptly looked away and tried to shake the feeling. Before I could make myself back to normal Will's soft touch gently guided my chin back to face him. He took a deep breath and studied my face.
"Look, about what Jaime said earlier today...it's—"
He was suddenly cut off by a brisk knock at the door.
"Who is it?" I called.
"Officer Rodriguez ma'am. I have a question for the agent in there with you."
"One moment." Will called, standing up to answer the door.
The second I watched the door open I heard a cracking sound and Will suddenly fell over. I screamed, watching the blood pool around him impossibly fast. Suddenly I heard another shot and a uniformed officer fell over by Will, blood gushing from him as well.
I grabbed my cell phone and ran over, trying to see if I could spot the shooter. I wasn't thinking about my own safety at all. I just wanted to save Will. I called 911 and told them what happened, sobbing the entire time.
Will couldn't be dead. No, it wasn't possible. I put pressure on his wound and the officer's as best as I could until the ambulance arrived.
"Stay with me Will. Please don't leave me. I'll forgive you, I promise. Just don't leave me." I sobbed, holding onto him tightly as the emergency care specialists guided me with them.
He wouldn't die. Not on my watch.