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“It’d be better than not talking to me at all.”
“I am talking to you!” she cried. “I tried to talk to you, and you shot me down.”
“Shot you down? Why? Because I didn’t immediately and enthusiastically agree with your suggestions?”
“There’s a difference between a civilized discussion and scoffing, Michael.”
“Yeah, there is,” Michael said. “Just like there’s a difference between a civilized discussion and turning into a block of ice.”
“Oh, I see. I should be warm and bubbly and sweet all the time, just like your girlfriend.”
She knew that was a mistake the moment she said it. Michael’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened. She sighed and said, “Michael, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I just—”
“No, it’s fine,” Michael interrupted. “Really. You’re right, she’s my girlfriend, not yours. You don’t have to like her.”
“It’s not that,” Faith said, “It’s just … I …”
“Faith,” Michael said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “you got your wish, okay? I don’t want to talk about it. In fact, let’s go back to not talking at all. Turns out talking is worse.”
Faith felt as though a knife were driven into her chest. She turned away from him and crossed her arms more tightly. Turk looked between the two of them and whined. Faith couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
Michael finished his coffee and said, “I’m going to run to the precinct and brainstorm with Rameses. Maybe the cops have figured something out we haven’t. You want to come?”
“I’ll stay here,” Faith said. “I need to look through some more security footage.”
“Suit yourself,” Michael said.
He tossed his coffee into a nearby trash can and started away, leaving Faith alone with Turk. She waited ten minutes, then led Turk away. She passed another cluster of maintenance workers on her way out, but like the previous group, they gave her a wide berth.
She headed to the ground floor to the Chinese food place they ate at the other day. She ate mechanically, the food once more not providing anything more than calories.
Normally, these moments of quiet centered her, clearing her thoughts and allowing her to separate and organize the little threads of clues that bounced around her mind. She had solved several cases this way, but this time, her mind was blank and fuzzy, like the static from a TV.
She was so out of it that when her phone rang, she jumped. The number on the phone did little to encourage her.
She took a deep breath, then answered. “Bold.”
“Is Prince there with you?” the Boss said.
Faith frowned. The Boss’s voice was different this time—quiet, almost clipped.
“No, just me,” she said, “he … stepped away for a moment.”
“Good,” the Boss said. “You don’t want him to hear this.”
Her blood froze in her chest. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Special Agent Bold, have you been investigating the copycat Donkey Killer case?”
The ice in her veins spread through her from head to toe. “I … um …” She sighed and said, “I’ve done some snooping, yes.”
“You’ve done more than some snooping,” the Boss said, his tone still clipped. “You have, according to Special Agent Clark, identified and interrogated a suspect, attempted to question the coroner who processed one of the victims, and attempted to interrogate the family of said victim. This, in addition to stealing both physical and digital copies of the case files and reaching out by phone to multiple other people of interest. You’ve also visited crime scenes and local police forces and claimed to be an active investigator on the case.”
Faith didn’t say anything. A pit formed in her stomach and rapidly grew to a stone.
“All this,” the Boss continued, “despite being warned repeatedly by me to stay away from the case. Despite being warned repeatedly by Clark to stay off the case. Despite, I have to add, the fact that Clark has repeatedly gone to bat for you. Not three days ago, he was defending your right to remain on this case. He’s still defending it. In fact, the only reason you’re not on your way back to Philly right now is that he believes that you still are the right person for the job. He respects you, Faith. You can’t show him the same courtesy?”
Faith took a breath. “It’s not that I don’t respect him, Boss. I do. I just …”
