"I'm seeing a therapist.I'm dealing with it."
"But are you?Because from where we're standing, it looks like you're just pushing through without actually processing what happened to you in that chamber."
Miles looked between them, feeling trapped by their concern."What do you want me to say?That I'm having nightmares?That I can't go into elevators without my chest tightening?I know I'm not doing great right now.But we have two dead bodies in California and another disciple out there planning who knows what.So forgive me if I don't have time to fall apart."
"Nobody's asking you to fall apart," Vic said."We're asking you to take care of yourself while you do this job."
"Iamtaking care of myself.I'm going to therapy,” he repeated.“I'm managing."
Sarah and Vic exchanged another look, and Miles knew they didn't believe him.Hell, he barely believed himself.But he also knew that stepping away from this case wasn't an option.Not when people were dying.Not when Kane's network was still active.
"Look," Miles said, forcing his tone to soften, "I appreciate the concern.I do.But I need you both to trust that I know my own limits.If I couldn't do this job, I'd say so.I'm not going to put the investigation at risk because of my own issues."
Vic studied him for a long moment before nodding slowly."All right.But we're going to be paying attention, Miles.If we think you're in over your head, we're going to say something.Both of us."
"Fair enough," he said, doing everything he could to swallow down the rising anger that was threatening to overtake him.
Kim picked up her bag again, though she still looked uncertain."Hayes specifically asked me to keep an eye on how this case affects you.He's worried, too."
"So Hayes knows about this intervention you two have planned?"he asked, the words sounding much more bitter than he’d intended.
"It's not an intervention," Vic said."It's colleagues looking out for each other.And yes, Hayes is aware of our concerns.That's part of why he wanted all three of us on this case.He thinks you need the support."
Miles wanted to argue, wanted to insist that he didn't need anyone watching over him like he was fragile.But the truth was that he probably did need the support, even if accepting it made him feel weak.
"Can we go now?"Miles asked."We're going to miss our flight if we keep standing here talking about my mental health."
Vic grabbed her own bag and headed for the door."Let's move then.We can continue this conversation on the plane if we need to."
“No, we won’t,” Miles spat, heading for the door.“This conversation is over.”
The three of them left Miles's office and headed for the parking garage with a tight cloud of tension around them.As they walked, Miles could feel both women watching him from the corners of their eyes—assessing, monitoring, and ready to step in if he showed signs of breaking down.
He understood why they were worried.He even appreciated it, in a way.But their concern also felt like pressure, like one more thing he had to manage while trying to do his job.
They reached Vic's car and loaded their bags into the trunk.As Vic started the engine, Miles pulled out his phone and saw that Hayes’s assistant had emailed the case files—still quite meager so early in the case.Two victims.Weather balloons.Helium as the likely element.As far as Miles was concerned, another disciple was indeed at work.
And Miles was flying across the country to stop them, panic attacks and nightmares and concerned colleagues be damned.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The LAPD Central Community Police Station sat on Sixth Street in downtown Los Angeles.It was a modern building that looked more like an office complex than a traditional precinct.Miles followed Vic and Sarah Kim through the entrance, grateful for the air conditioning after the walk from their rental car.The late afternoon heat had been oppressive, the kind that made breathing feel like work.
A uniformed officer directed them to the second floor, where Detective Luis Morales waited near a conference room.He was in his mid-forties with salt-and-pepper hair and the weathered look of someone who had seen too many crime scenes.His handshake was firm when he greeted them.He had the sort of demeanor that was neither soft nor hardened, and Miles decided he liked the man right away.
"Agents," Morales said, nodding to all three of them individually."Thanks for getting here so quickly.My partner is already inside setting up the case materials."
“That’s fantastic,” Vic said.“We appreciate the cooperation, Detective."
Morales led them into a conference room where another detective stood arranging folders on the table.She was younger than Morales, maybe early thirties, her dark hair cut in a short pixie-cut.
"This is Detective Brittany Richards," Morales said."She caught the first case."
Richards looked up and gave them a brief smile that faded quickly."Welcome to Los Angeles.I wish it were under better circumstances."
They settled around the table and Richards opened the first folder, revealing crime scene photos.Miles leaned forward to study them, careful not to touch anything until Richards indicated they could.He had to look away at first as he’d not been expecting anythingquitethis gruesome.It was easily the worst condition he’d ever seen a dead body in.
"This is Amanda Parker, age thirty-two," Richards said."She was a professional skydiver and instructor at SkyHigh Adventures, a jumping facility about forty miles outside the city.She was found just this morning out in the Mojave Desert, about a mile or so off the highway.She was discovered by an early-morning hiker.”
