The Summer Children (The Collector #3)(43)

“Herpes.”

“Type one, so basically cold sores, but he’s got it on his genitals.”

“Let me guess, his mother has a history of cold sores.”

“Right.”

I sigh. “A seven-year-old with an STI.”

“Holmes wants you to talk to the earlier victims. Mason still won’t speak at all, and the psychologist doesn’t think we should push it with having women around him, but Holmes wants you to check in with the others. Simpkins says no contact.”

“What does Holmes think checking in will do?”

“Show the killer that you’re still on this.”

So Holmes had the same thought I did, that the killer’s rage might turn on me if it looks like I abandoned these kids.

“Unless Holmes withdraws the request for Bureau assistance, Simpkins is agent in charge. She gets to make that call.”

Cass sneezes. Our entire academy cohort called her Kitten, because she sneezes every time she laughs. “You’re not really going to try to convince me you like it.”

“No, I fucking hate it, but it’s not my call. And I don’t get to go behind her back.”

“Actually, I was thinking of telling Holmes to go to Hanoverian.”

I thump my head against the seat several times, hoping it will knock something useful loose. “You want to tell the local detective to go over your boss’s head to the unit chief so a targeted agent can talk to previous victims.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds bad.”

“I wonder why.”

She sneezes again.

“If you’re trying to sneak me to the kids, why are you kidnapping me to CPS instead of the hospital?”

“Because I need to stop at CPS. I was on my way and figured the car ride was the best chance to talk to you.” She chances a glance over at me as she merges onto the highway. “You know how Dru is about your team; she doesn’t think it’s healthy for a team to stay the same for so long. She’s even talking of trading out the Smiths, and they’ve been on her team for six years.”

“But we’re not the same anymore. Vic got promoted. We stole Sterling from Denver.”

“She put her name in for unit chief ten months ago.”

“Shit.”

“No one ever thought Hanoverian would do it. He’s turned it down so many times before.”

“But then he got shot in the chest, and it was his only way to stay in the Bureau. She must have been pissed.”

“She doesn’t like the way he does things, never has. You know that.”

Most of the case ten months ago had involved Simpkins trying to retrain me and Eddison. I’ve been in the Bureau ten years, Eddison’s been here . . . sixteen? We’re not NATs. It made the case hell because she insisted on treating us like we’ve never learned anything useful under Vic. Eddison’s promotion and Sterling’s transfer came as welcome news, because it meant we were staying a separate team rather than getting folded permanently into Simpkins’s.

“So what are you going to be doing at CPS?” I ask, not even pretending to reach for a graceful segue.

“She’s got a theory that the killer may be a social worker.”

I snort in spite of myself.

“Let me guess: Your theory?”

“That she seemed disinclined to pursue.”

“She’s been a field agent for over twenty years; she wants to move up the ladder while she’s still young enough to make a good run of it.”

“I hate politics,” I groan. “I just want to do my job. I do not want to keep track of who wanted what promotion or who doesn’t like who.”

“Well, you’ll be able to put warnings in the welcome guide.”

“Speaking of which—”

“Hey, what do you want for lunch when we’re done?” she chirps.

“Nice try. Why did you give them the NAT guide?”

Her sheepish smile is the only admission of guilt I really need. “We need something, Mercedes. It’s the beginning of July and we’ve already had twenty agents either transfer out of CAC or leave the Bureau entirely, just this year.”

“So why don’t you write it?”

“How many times did you have to talk me out of quitting the academy?”

“Every time we had to fire a gun. That just means you don’t like guns. You were fine at everything else.”

“But a field agent who can’t stand guns isn’t much use as a field agent, is she? You got me past that. Be as pissed as you want that we didn’t tell you the guide was still getting passed around, that’s fair, but you’re the right choice, because no matter how many times you had to talk one of us down, or talk one of us up, you never lied. You never said one single thing that was untrue. That is what we need for the new hires. They don’t need to be babied, they need to be honestly warned. Who’s going to do that better than you?”

“The only reason I don’t hate you entirely is because this stupid handbook is the only thing between me and suspension.”

“I accept gratitude in the form of Marlene Hanoverian’s iced cinnamon-raisin rolls.”

“Don’t push it.”

My phone buzzes with a text from Sterling. Simpkins is here. Eddison needs to talk to you when you get back from lunch.