Field of Graves(54)

He still looked doubtful, but took a deep breath and backed off. She’d talk about it in her own time. “Okay. What do you want to eat?”

“A lot. I’m starved.”

The waitress came back, and Taylor thought she could see concern on her face, but she was all business, taking their orders and bustling off.

Baldwin wanted to defuse the moment, so he tried a different tack.

“I knew you in high school, you know.”

“What?” Taylor was shocked. She knew most everyone she’d attended school with. And she’d figured Baldwin was in his late forties. She gave him a good once over, and decided he was definitely younger than that. Years had melted off in the past few days. She could now see he was much closer to her own age.

“I transferred in to Father Ryan my senior year. You were a sophomore, I think. Pretty little thing.”

She blushed. “I can’t believe I don’t remember you. I always hung out with the older crowd. Sam was dating Simon Loughley. He’s the guy that runs Private Match. He was a senior when we were sophomores. Did you know him?”

“Knew of him. I kept to myself a lot.”

“Why’d you transfer in so late? Where were you before?” Taylor realized she was anxious to learn more of Baldwin’s background. She blamed it on simple southern nosiness, but knew she was trying to get closer, to figure him out.

A brief look of pain shadowed his face. “My folks died my junior year. Car accident. We lived over by Old Hickory Lake. My aunt was on the west side of town. She took me in and moved schools on me. I wasn’t too thrilled about it, but I didn’t have much of a choice. She was trying to do what was best for me.” He took a long drink of water, and the smile returned. “She was a crazy old bat, kept after me constantly. I loved her, though, and respected her wish to see me complete my education, just like my parents wanted. She pushed me from Father Ryan into a college in Virginia, Hampden-Sydney.”

“I know of it. All boys, right?”

“Yep. I met a psych teacher there I liked, and he suggested I go on to med school. So I hit up Johns Hopkins, they accepted, then I got the JD to go with the MD and the other degrees, and here I am.”

“Where’d you go to law school?”

“George Washington. That’s how I got into the FBI, actually. I met Garrett Woods, my old boss, at a symposium on campus. He recruited me hard, and it seemed like it would be fun. So I joined up, did my fieldwork, and he pulled me into the BSU after a few years. That’s where it all went downhill.” He realized he’d been babbling, so he tried to turn it around. “What about you? Where’d you end up?”

“Criminal justice at University of Tennessee in Knoxville. My parents were so proud.” Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. “Having their only child run off to be a cop was the last thing they wanted. Oh my God, I completely forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

She shook her head. “Oh, it’s nothing. My father called me a couple of days ago. With the case and all, I managed to block it out.”

“You don’t talk with him much?”

“Nope. Win isn’t...well, we had a falling-out a few years back. When I said that my parents weren’t thrilled I wanted to be a cop, I wasn’t kidding. He was never around, anyway, like he could have influenced any of my decisions.” She was pulling away again, back into her protective shell.

“It mustn’t have been easy to be Win Jackson’s daughter.”

She looked up and laughed. “So you know all about it, huh?”

“Not all of it. Some. I was out of state when he was indicted.”

“Such a proud day for me. Four counts of interference and tampering with an election of a circuit court judge. God, I thought I was going to die. I saw it all on the news. They didn’t even have the decency to let me know what was happening until it was all over. My mom divorced him while he was inside. She remarried and moved to Aspen with her new husband, who’s some sort of ski gigolo. We don’t have much in common anymore, you know?

“But good ol’ Win spent his three years at the Club Fed, came back all changed. Righteous, full of remorse for all those years he’d ignored his only child. Decided if I was going to be a cop, damn it, I was going to be chief of police. Starts calling around, trying to find ways to get me into plainclothes. Can you imagine? A convicted felon trying to call in favors? I could have died.”

Baldwin almost laughed. The thought of Taylor Jackson needing Daddy’s help to make it on the force struck him as patently absurd. “I assume you got wind of it and shut him down?”

“With a vengeance. Had to make sure everyone I had ever come in contact with knew it, too. I was getting shit from every corner. I was very nearly forced to quit, had to stay in uniform an extra year, which really pissed me off. The worst thing about it—I was getting promoted. I’d passed the sergeant’s exam right when he decided to help my career along. He set me back instead. So we don’t have a lot of father-daughter time, if you know what I mean.”

“Why do you think he called now?”

“God only knows. Probably heard the director of the FBI was leaving and wanted to let me know he’s trying to get my name in the hat.”

Baldwin’s face darkened, and Taylor knew she had tripped right into his own nightmares. She decided she needed to change the subject, get back on safe ground.