Last Chance to Die

It happens more frequently than you think.”
“Yeah, well, I happen to like my life quite a bit.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but some people do it for attention.”
“How could I possibly take that the wrong way?” she said, sounding more than a little sarcastic. She took a moment and then said, “If you knew me, you’d know I really don’t care what people think. Why would I want to get their attention?”
“Not people—person,” he said.
“Person? Who?”
The agent flipped back to another page in his notes. “Steve Vail?”
“Where did you get that?”
“Answers, Kate, remember?”
“Okay, what do you know about him? And me?”
“We know that he was fired as an agent more than five years ago. That the director brought him back to work on the Rubaco Pentad case in Los Angeles—with you—and that you guys have dated. Recently it ended abruptly.”
“Sounds like you got a running start on this while I was still unconscious. Okay, I’ll tell you about Vail on one condition—that you don’t contact him.”
“If you’re forthcoming, there’ll be no need to.”
“One of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my life was tell him I didn’t want him in it. If you’ve read the Pentad file, you know he was responsible for solving that case almost single-handedly. He would be an incredible agent, but he cannot conform to anything, and that includes a relationship with me. We’ve seen each other three times since L.A. The first time was—I hate to use the word, but it was—pretty much perfect. The last two were absolutely awful. So I told him it would be best if we didn’t see each other again. And that was a week ago. So no, I wasn’t trying to get his attention.”
“Trying to find out exactly who he was, I ran his name through some of our contacts at other agencies and got a hit with the State Department. Seems you and he are going to the Irish ambassador’s reception on New Year’s Eve.”
“Boy, you have been busy. But you’d better check with them again. It should show that my escort is now Eamon Walsh.”
“So you changed it.”
“What’s today?”
“Wednesday.”
“I spoke with him Monday. He’s with the Irish embassy and was the one who called me originally with the invitation. When I phoned him back to tell him Vail wasn’t coming, he asked if I’d do him the honor. I didn’t want to go alone, so I said yes. Maybe he hasn’t gotten around to changing it officially yet. You can call him.”
Daniels was making notes. “So it’s definitely over between you and Vail. You told him not to come for New Year’s Eve.”
“Not in so many words, but I think ‘We shouldn’t see each other again’ carries that assumption.”
“That’s helpful about Vail. It gives you one less reason to . . . you know.”
“Off myself.”
“Tell me what you remember about the night that this happened to you,” Daniels said.
She repeated what she’d told the director about the stranger’s buying her a drink that didn’t settle well with her, then her coming home and going to bed. Then waking up and trying to get out of the garage.
He asked, “You said he told you it was Drambuie?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm,” Daniels said more to himself than to her.
“What?”
“I’ve had Drambuie, and it has a definite strong sweetness to it.”
The OPR agent started making additional notes that she guessed were more than just about Kate’s response. As she watched him, she remembered her time in OPR, how investigations were not about the incident but about the employee’s involvement in it. They weren’t criminal investigators, they were personnel investigators. As Daniels looked up from his pad ready to ask the next question, she knew that he was not going to get to the bottom of this. If anyone was going to find out what had happened, it would have to be her. “If that guy did put something in the drink, maybe he had some other intentions, and when he saw I drank only one sip of it, he got scared and took off.”
“Your blood didn’t show any kind of drug in it, but if you didn’t drink much, maybe it dissipated before you got here.”
“Are you going to try to track him down?” she asked, trying to judge just how far he was going to pursue what had happened to her.
“I’ll have to see where everything takes me.”
Right, she said to herself, becoming lost in thought. There was just something about a near-death experience that brought Vail to mind. And she couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. She knew that he would never just “see where everything takes me.” A small smile creased her lips.
“What is it, Kate?”
“Oh, no, nothing. Did you need anything else?”
“That’s enough for now.” Daniels stood up. “Take care.”
He closed the door, and after a moment her smile disappeared.
She was sure she was never going to see Vail again.

1
Kate Bannon opened her door. “What are you doing here?”
With mock surprise on his face, Steve Vail recoiled slightly at the level of protest in her voice. He stepped inside, setting down his suitcase and, for the briefest moment, allowed his eyes to trace the flawless symmetry of her face. “I’ve got the right day, don’t I? This is New Year’s Eve. Is it the wrong year?”
“After that last time, when I told you this wasn’t going to work, I assumed you understood that included tonight.”
He smiled crookedly. “Come on, Kate, it’s the twenty-first century. What woman wants to have to admit that she’s never been stalked? It’s become an accoutrement, like Italian shoes or one of those little purse-size dogs.”
“We tried, Steve. Three times. And the last two, if you remember, were not pretty.”
“That means statistically we’re due.”
Kate shook her head slowly. She really couldn’t believe he was standing there. “You know as well as I do that we’re a disaster. We’re too different. Or too much alike. I don’t know. Every time we try to get close, we wind up