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I rein in my nerves. “If I were, would I be here?” I glance around the waiting room, eying the uniforms. “I’m happy to speak with you, but I don’t think this is an appropriate place. Can I schedule a time to meet with you at the precinct?”
“Schedule?” He chuckles. “Sorry, ma’am. I don’t work on schedules. As I’m sure you’re well aware, time is of the essence. First hours of a murder investigation are crucial.” He looks down at me and narrows his gaze. Apparently, he expects me to answer his rhetorical question.
I raise my eyebrows. “Yes, I know this.”
He stuffs his large hands into his pockets. “I do have the privacy of the ER, though. We can speak right through there.” He cocks his head toward the emergency wing.
“I’m sorry. I think that’s far less appropriate.” I attempt to go around him, but he blocks my exit.
“I can get you access to see the baby,” he says, and my heart knocks. “That’s why you’re here, right? To check on your friend’s baby girl?”
Girl.
I don’t have to glance at Rhys to know the likely disapproval in his expression.
Detective Vale is a bargainer, a negotiator. Men like him, in his position, use manipulative tactics to get what they want. It’s dangerous to meet on a bargainer’s terms; they suss out your weakness and exploit it.
I wonder how many bargains he’s made with himself.
“All right,” I say, accepting his offer. Right now, for me, the benefit outweighs the danger.
As I follow the detective
toward the large ER door, Rhys sidles closer to me. “You’re being impulsive. Don’t give him a statement here.”
“Because I’ll be too emotional?” I look at him.
His lips thin, his frown tight. “You sell yourself short,” he says, lowering his voice as the detective speaks with reception to have us admitted. “You can be just as emotional as the average person, Hale.”
“Maybe so, but I present it differently.” A personality glitch I hope will perplex Detective Vale.
The door opens, and the detective makes sure I follow him into the wing. He holds up a hand as Rhys attempts to step through. “I only need a statement from Ms. Hale at this time, Agent Nolan.”
Rhys’s expression hardens, and I step between the men to diffuse the situation before it has a chance to escalate. “It’s fine, Rhys. I won’t be long.”
He glances at the detective and then me, but says nothing. I watch him take a seat in the waiting room as the door slides closed, severing my view.
“This way,” the detective says.
He directs me past another cop in the hallway to a small, empty room. It’s stocked with bandages and harmless medical supplies. There’s a metal table and two folding chairs in the center. Either used as a nurse break room, or the detective had them brought in himself.
The difference is decisive.
“Is this your setup?” I ask.
He offers me a seat first, his smile forced. “I suppose we’re in a similar line of work. You’re used to being the one to ask questions, but—” he slips a black notepad from his blazer inseam “—that’s my job today.”
So it’s like that, is it. I decide this is his setup, and that he’s hovering around the hospital, close to Cam’s baby, because he has no other leads. I would do the same. The perpetrator went to great lengths to control his kill, not to harm the fetus.
I wonder if Cam’s husband is here—whether or not he’s the prime suspect.
Detective Vale clicks his pen, initiating the interview. “Ms. Hale, why did you and Agent Nolan come to West Melbourne?”
I slip my bag off my shoulder and anchor the strap across the chair back. “We’re working the Delany cold case,” I answer simply, honestly.
He doesn’t bother jotting the note. “Was the case selected for you, or do you and Agent Nolan decide which cases to take?”
I flash a curt smile. “Detective, you know I’m not at liberty to discuss the inner workings of the FBI.”
