A Killer's Mind (Zoe Bentley Mystery #1)(81)

“What?” Tatum asked in shock. “But we—”

“You’re running an investigation on your own. Like I thought you would. Dr. Bentley endangered herself, and it was partly because you didn’t share all the information earlier.”

“Hang on—”

“We’re done here, Agent. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”





CHAPTER 56

Quantico, Virginia, Monday, July 25, 2016

Zoe couldn’t remember Mancuso ever looking as furious as she did when they walked into her office on Monday morning. The unit chief breathed steadily, inhaling through her nose and exhaling slowly, while looking at them both, saying nothing. Zoe was almost sure Mancuso was silently counting, and she wondered up to what number.

They both sat in front of Mancuso’s desk. Tatum sat on the right-hand chair of the condemned, his face a mask of atonement mixed with defiance, a neat trick. Zoe sat to his left, wincing as the stitches in her hip flared in pain. She had a slight concussion and stitches on her neck as well, the wound on her shoulder glued. She also had a huge black eye. Whenever she made a sudden movement, everything would start hurting at once. Last night, just before their flight back from Chicago, a woman had approached her in the airport and handed her a flyer: a shelter for abused women. She had also given Tatum a dirty look, probably assuming he was Zoe’s spouse.

“Okay,” Mancuso said, her voice controlled and measured. “I just read through the extensive reports you both sent me, as well as the very short, angry email I received from Lieutenant Martinez and the one-line email I got from the Chicago chief of police.”

Zoe lowered her eyes, staring at her palms. Her report was a long, dry account of all the ways she’d messed up. Not sharing her suspicions with the police or her partner. Not informing them about the three envelopes left at the crime scenes. Going to check up on a crime scene on her own. Not noticing the tail. Those were the reasons that Glover had managed to disappear completely.

“The Chicago police and the FBI agreed not to say anything to the press about the debacle, because tensions in the populace regarding this killer are high, and we want to give an impression of competence.”

Tatum cleared his throat, looking as if he were about to say something, but Mancuso raised an eyebrow, projecting infinite menace. He said nothing.

“Of course, both the lieutenant in charge and I are interested in knowing why you withheld crucial information about the case. Neither of your reports explains the reasoning behind this decision.”

Zoe squirmed uncomfortably. “I—”

“The tip seemed far fetched at first,” Tatum said, his voice even. “Dr. Bentley began telling me about it, but I convinced her that her theory held no merit. In retrospect, I should have involved the Chicago PD.”

“Hang on,” Zoe said. “That’s not—”

“Damn right you should have!” Mancuso thumped her desk, the fish behind her fleeing in horror, desperate to find shelter. “I told you, Agent Gray: this cowboy act of yours won’t work in this unit.”

Zoe tried to interrupt. “Chief, it was me who—”

“Sorry, Chief,” Tatum said, his voice loud enough to drown out Zoe. “I think it’s best if I’m removed from this case.”

“There is no damn case!” she nearly shouted. “The Chicago PD does not want our help anymore. Lieutenant Martinez was very clear about that.”

“But we’ve made so much progress,” Zoe blurted. “We can—”

“You can remain at home for your sick leave, instead of showing up here,” Mancuso said, her dark eyes focusing on Zoe. “After this meeting, I want you to get straight home. If I see you here before next week, I’ll fire you.”

Zoe’s eyes narrowed. The threat was supposed to scare her into submission, but instead, it just made her angry. “Chief, Rod Glover is—”

“I don’t want to hear it right now,” Mancuso said. She sat down wearily, spent. “Get out of here, both of you.”

Tatum stood up and left.

Zoe hesitated, then said, “Agent Gray didn’t—”

“I’m not blind, Zoe,” Mancuso said, her voice low. “I know what just happened here, and I know what Gray did and didn’t do. Now get out.”

She left, closing the door behind her. She ran after Tatum, her stitches screaming in protest as she did so. “Tatum.”

He turned around and smiled weakly at her. “Well, that wasn’t so bad.”

“Why did you tell her it was your fault?” Zoe asked, furious. “I’m the one who went to the crime scene alone, and I’m the one who didn’t tell Martinez anything. It was my fault.”

“Yeah, it was,” Tatum said, folding his hands. “So what?”

Zoe stared at him. She had actually expected him to argue a bit. Still, it really was her fault. “You’re already known as a problematic agent. What if—”

“I’m a problematic agent with some nice commendations in his file,” he said. “You’re a civilian consultant, taking a position many think should be given to an agent. Who do you think has a better chance of being fired?”

“Mancuso wouldn’t—”

“Mancuso is under a huge amount of pressure,” Tatum said. “I don’t know what she would or wouldn’t do. Anyway, you tried to tell me. I should have listened. Though, damn it, I wish you’d tried harder.”