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“Now, that wasn’t my doing. I never meant for—”
“Don’t flatter yourself. It never occurred to me that you had that much influence, not even with Tony. You just planted the seeds. The rest was an ADIC who goes way back with Ronald Truman. So what do you think? The navy Brioni suit and the striped Gucci tie you gave me for my birthday? Or the charcoal Lauren suit and the maroon Armani tie I left at your place in Cleveland and you mailed back to me?”
Sloane’s anger was rapidly escalating. “First cruel, now childish. Cut it out, Derek. Look, I’m sorry you’re being shipped off to the Jersey shore. It wasn’t my idea. In fact, I’m less than thrilled at having you in my face every step of this investigation. But we play the hand we’re dealt. So get over yourself. I’m not trying to control you. I’m just determined to solve Penny’s case. Which means you and I are going to have to find a way to work together—like it or not.”
“Right.” Derek snapped his briefcase shut. “I’ll be at Richard Stockton tomorrow around nine-thirty. So will McGraw.”
“Then I’ll meet you both there.”
“I assumed you would.” A tight pause. “Sloane, do not come charging in and start running the show on your own. If we want to maximize our chances of getting information on Penelope’s disappearance, we need to pool our resources and logically decide who’ll be most effective at handling what. Once we’ve divvied up assignments, then we’ll act.”
“Agreed. I had no intention of jumping the gun. I planned on waiting for you to arrive and for us to devise a productive strategy. I’m aware that my consultant status gives me less influence with law enforcement than an SA has—at least where it comes to those agencies who’ve never worked with me. But it also gives me a better foundation for connecting with laypeople, who are intimidated by being questioned by the feds and who react better to an empathetic approach—which, in case you haven’t noticed, is not your forte.”
“That’s not what you said when you asked me to meet with Deanna Frost.”
“I said you had a certain macho charm. That’s a far cry from being able to connect with people using psychology and compassion.”
“Really? They sound a lot alike to me.”
“They’re not. As for your I’m-in-charge speech, don’t worry. I may be gone from the Bureau, but I still remember the rules. You’re the agent of record.”
“Meaning you’ll let me take the lead? I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“You will—tomorrow. Oh, and Derek?”
“What?”
“Wear the Gucci. I’ve got great taste in ties. Much better than I do in men.”
CHAPTER
TWELVE
DATE: 1 April
TIME: 0500 hours
My plan would make the gods proud.
Hera. She could accomplish what I could not. She could do it without compromising my time line. And she could do it in a way that was ideal for Athena.
Hera would be rewarded. Athena would be soothed.
And one problem would be resolved.
I should have thought of this sooner. From the moment I first seized Hera last June, she’d been the ideal acquisition. The initial fight she put up was minimal. Her acceptance was swift. And, all these months, she’d cooperated without incident.
Maybe it was because she was older and recognized her own limitations. Maybe it was because she was older and valued life more than youth was able to foresee. Or maybe it wasn’t her age at all, but simply her character. It didn’t matter. She was the perfect choice.
When I unlocked her room and entered, she looked surprised to see me. I don’t usually visit the goddesses so early in the morning. But for me to be comfortable, my plan had to be carried out before dawn. After that, the risk would be too great. Caution has always been my ally; recklessness my foe. I believe in order. Without it, chaos ensues.
I shut the door behind me and walked in. I stood respectfully at the foot of Hera’s bed. I never sit on a goddess’s bed. When I do sit, it’s always in a chair, and always keeping an appropriate distance. I only approach the goddesses to give them their food or to accompany them to the bathroom. I make sure never to touch them, except with the blade of my knife or when discipline is necessary, after which I make sure to cleanse myself and them. To touch them for any other reason would be blasphemous.
Hera looked startled and then enormously pleased when I asked if she’d like to enjoy some fresh air. I felt proud that I could make her happy. I do so with all the goddesses, each in their own right. In Hera’s case, I’d predated her arrival by decorating her chamber with a plush velvet chair, as regal as any throne, and a crown with an attached veil on the table beside it. Of course I also made sure to neatly place the chapter on Hera at the edge of her mattress. I’d seen her reading it several times, and looking at the illustrations. That pleased me immensely.
As the goddess queen, Hera deserved extra cons
ideration. Pleasing her was an honor unto itself. Therefore, to ensure her contentment, I’d purchased an exercise bicycle a month after her arrival, and placed it in her room. That would nourish her physically. To nourish her mentally, I bought her copies of the New York Law Journal—a small connection to her former life—and had frequent chats with her about current events. And to nourish her spirit, I brought her bowls of fresh fruit, which always made her face light up.
