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“The mere mention of his wife sends him into a tirade. At one point I actually thought he was going to hit me.”
Kennedy searched the young operative’s eyes for a hint of dishonesty or a possible self-aggrandizing agenda, but she didn’t see a sign of either. She was simply giving a dispassionate summary. “He’s been through a lot.”
“Yes, I know, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that he hasn’t been referred for counseling.” Brooks watched Kennedy look away from her and then check her watch. She had hit a nerve. “It is not a criticism of management,” Brooks added quickly. “He’s not ready for help. You’d have to institutionalize him.”
“Commit him to a psychiatric institution?” Kennedy asked with a look of real shock on her face.
“Yes. For his own good.”
“Your graduate degree is in psychology?” Kennedy asked.
“Yes.”
Kennedy glanced over at Juarez who was shaking his head. Turning to Brooks she said, “That was tried once before. Years ago.”
“Before his wife?”
“Years before.”
“How did it go?” Brooks asked.
Kennedy looked to Juarez who said, “He killed
the man who had him committed.”
“Killed?” Brooks said with surprise.
“Killed,” Juarez repeated himself. “Snapped his neck with his bare hands.”
Brooks looked at Special Agent McMahon with a mix of shock and horror on her face.
“Don’t look at me.” McMahon put his hands up. “I turned my hearing aid off five minutes ago.”
“Relax,” Juarez said. “It turned out the treasonous bastard had it coming, but that’s a whole other story. One that you’re not cleared for.”
“The point is,” said Kennedy, “You don’t simply commit someone like Mitch. People would get hurt.”
“I think people might get hurt if he doesn’t get help.”
Kennedy considered that possibility for a moment.
“This is bullshit,” Juarez said. “We’re completely off the subject here. This meeting isn’t about Mitch. I’ll deal with him when he comes in. He’s pulled this shit before. Just never quite so brazenly. This is about you,” Juarez leaned forward and pointed at Brooks, “young lady. It’s about you doing your job and telling me and the director here, just what in the hell Mitch is up to. You either do that, or your career is over. It’s that simple.”
Brooks looked to Kennedy. The director looked at her without an expression.
“And by the way your career isn’t simply over. I own your ass right now. You have no rights. You signed them away your first day on the job. If you don’t tell me what I want to know, I’m going to march you down to the basement and have the boys from the Office of Security run you through the ringer. Hot lights and lots of difficult questions all while you’re hooked up to a lie detector.”
Brooks was seriously considering telling them everything when an intercom buzzer sounded from atop Kennedy’s desk.
“Director?”
Kennedy turned toward her desk and in a louder than normal voice asked, “Yes, Sheila.”
“I have Mitch for you on your direct line.”
Kennedy stood quickly. “Did you start a trace?”
“He told me if I tried to trace the call he’d never speak to me again.”
