Читать книгу Identity Crisis - Kate Donovan - Страница 11

The next morning, SPIN headquarters was buzzing with news of Kristie’s successful—albeit unconventional—foray into fieldwork. Never in the three-year history of the elite service had a spinner directly contacted a suspect or witness, much less interrogated one.

“We should have known you’d be trouble after the way you made monkeys of us at the interview,” David Wong told her as they sat drinking coffee in one of the spacious cubicles that housed the tools of the spinning trade—reference books, faxes and phones, along with the most sophisticated computers, software and peripherals available anywhere.

Kristie laughed with delight. “Don’t look at me. Melissa deserves all the blame for that interview. And she deserves some credit for last night, too. But really, it was Justin Russo’s willingness to bend a few rules that saved Lizzie’s life. I hope he’s getting some strokes, too.”

“Any update on the little girl’s condition?”

“She’s doing okay, all things considered. Thank heavens that creep didn’t really bury her.” Kristie shuddered, remembering the first tense minutes after Justin had arrested Horton. The coach had refused to talk without a lawyer, and the cops had been frantic, not knowing where to start digging. Meanwhile, a small team had torn Horton’s house and vehicles apart, and once again, resourceful Justin Russo had come through, spying an almost imperceptible variation in the striped wallpaper that decorated Horton’s bedroom. Seconds later, Justin had pried open a flat-paneled closet door and had pulled little Lizzie Rodriguez into his arms.

Patting Kristie’s hand, David told her, “Why don’t you ask Ray for the rest of the day off? You must be beat.”

“I’m fine.”

“Kristie!” Ray’s secretary called out from across the expanse that separated the spinners from their boss’s office. “Ray wants to see you,” Beth added.

“I’ll be right there,” Kristie called back, pleased that she was finally going to hear her supervisor’s reaction to the prior evening’s adventure. Ray had taken a big chance hiring her, given her lack of on-the-job experience, and in her first six months at SPIN, he had become both mentor and friend, praising her talent and giving her some of the best cases. Now his faith in her had been justified. She could only imagine how proud he was.

“You might want to tilt his office blinds closed, just in case this turns out to be the big day,” David suggested slyly.

“Pardon?”

Her friend grinned. “People have been hugging you all day. I figure when Ray takes his turn, you guys might not be able to stop. And frankly, it’s about time.”

“Me and Ray?” Kristie glared. “Are you nuts?”

“No, just perceptive,” he said, chuckling. Then he seemed to realize he was the only one laughing, and cleared his throat. “Sorry. Taboo subject.”

“It’s not taboo. It’s not a subject at all. Ray and I are just friends.”

“Right.”

“David! I’m serious. There’s nothing going on.”

“I know that. You’re both too disciplined to have an affair on the job. I just thought—” He shook his head. “Are you saying you don’t have the hots for him? Not even a little?”

“Of course not.” She glanced toward Ray’s office to confirm he wasn’t watching, then insisted, “Ray and I are two peas in a pod. We like the same music, the same books, the same movies. We’ve got the same skills, tastes and political views. We’re the proverbial twins separated at birth.”

“Yeah? Well, do the guy a favor,” David suggested dryly. “When he finally cracks and pours his heart out to you, don’t tell him you love him like a brother.”

Kristie groaned in frustration. “You’ve seen us together, attacking the crossword puzzle and laughing on break, and you think it’s romantic. But it’s not. We’re just kindred spirits. There’s no chemistry. No longing glances or any of that.”

She sighed as she added, “Don’t get me wrong. The guy’s gorgeous. I’d have to be dead not to notice that. But there’s no spark. Nothing. Nada.”

“Fine. My mistake. Forget I said anything.”

She studied him warily. “You’re his best friend. Has he said something to you?”

“Nope.”

“But you really think…?”

David shrugged his shoulders. “Obviously I was wrong.”

She smiled, relieved. “Thanks for scaring me to death.”

“Whatever.”

He was too quick to look down at his shirtfront, picking at some microscopic piece of lint, and she realized he wasn’t yet convinced. And considering how well he knew Ray, that was beginning to worry her.

“I’m not his type, David. You of all people should know that.”

“I should?”

“You’ve met his ex-wife, right? I found out all about her when I was doing research for my job interview. Red hair, green eyes, svelte. There was another girl, too, one he was engaged to when he was in the army. Angela something. Same type as the wife. And that senator from Ohio that he had a fling with. The one with the gorgeous auburn curls. That’s how I got the idea for Melissa Daniels. Red wig, green contacts, flashy makeup and a push-up bra. The works.” With a wicked smile, she admitted, “It was dirty pool, but I wanted to throw him off guard so he wouldn’t notice any little imperfections in my cover story. I did my best to impersonate his favorite female fantasy.”

David arched an eyebrow. “You intentionally made Ray fall for you?”

“Not for me. For Melissa.” Kristie gave her fellow spinner a halfhearted glare. “This is nuts. If it’s true—if he really does have a harmless little crush on me—it’s a simple case of transference.”

Yeah. Tell him that,” David drawled. “It’ll make him feel so much better.”

“Hey, you two.” Beth bustled over to the spinners and scolded them playfully. “For some reason, Ray thinks he’s in charge. And since he can see the two of you sitting here gabbing, I can’t exactly cover for you.”

Kristie shot a quick look toward the office, and was again relieved to see that Ray wasn’t watching them. Not that there was anything to watch. And not that Ray shouldn’t look at her whenever he wanted—

“Thanks a lot, David,” she muttered. “You’ve completely freaked me out.”

“Sorry. Just remember not to use the b-word when tou talk to him.”

“B-word?”

“Brother.”

Grimacing, she nodded, then hurried to her boss’s glass-walled office.

“Ray? Beth said you wanted to see me.”

Without looking up, he told her, “Close the door and take a seat, Kristie. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

She was relieved to note that the blinds were wide open. And he wanted her to sit on the other side of the desk from him. Business as usual. No sexual tension. He barely seemed to know she was there.

Slipping into a chair, she took a moment to study him. He was a truly handsome man with a ramrod build, raven-black hair and an endearingly boring habit of wearing a white shirt and conservative tie every single day.

Would she have been attracted to him had they met under other circumstances? Probably not. She was a firm believer in chemistry, and there simply wasn’t any between them, at least, not on her part.

Realizing that a full minute had passed in silence, she murmured, “If this is a bad time, I can come back.”

“I’ll be with you as soon as I finish this list.”

“Sounds mysterious. What kind of list?”

He raised his gaze to hers, stunning her with the cold gleam in his usually sweet eyes. “I thought it would be easier if we went infraction by infraction.”

“Oh.” She coughed to clear the surprise from her throat. “I get it.”

“You ‘get’ it? That’s all you have to say for yourself?” Exploding out of his chair, he began gesturing wildly. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Ray—”

“Don’t ‘Ray’ me!” He took a deep breath, visibly getting his temper under control, then sat back down and began tapping the items on his list. “You used an unregistered, unmonitored cell phone for SPIN business. That alone is a basis for dismissal, and it’s the least of your offenses.”

She squirmed, then offered lamely, “I was afraid if a monitor heard what we were up to, they wouldn’t understand. And there wasn’t time—”

“Five minutes! That’s all it would have taken to call me and clear your plan—”

“And you would have said no!”

“You bet your unregistered cell phone I would have said no. And I would have been right.” He raked his fingers through his thick black hair. “It worked out great. I’m as happy as anyone that the Rodriguez girl is safe. But there were other ways to accomplish it. Ways that didn’t jeopardize Russo’s career, not to mention mine.”

She mentally cringed, but didn’t dare interrupt.

“Do you understand what a disaster it would have been if you’d been wrong? You would have single-handedly destroyed our relationship with the local cops—guys who were busting their asses to find that kid. They didn’t deserve to be made fools of. Plus, you would have ruined the prosecutor’s case and probably gotten us sued for violating the brother’s civil rights.”

“I knew Randy wasn’t guilty, Ray. So I knew none of that would happen.”

“You’re a frickin’ genius,” he agreed dryly.

“I didn’t say that. But it went well—”

“Did it? Since there’s no tape of the call, I’ll never know exactly what you said to that kid. But the unofficial story is you promised him his sister was still alive and you were going to find her. What if Horton had already killed her? Dammit, Kris, what were you thinking?”

“I had a feeling—”

“Screw feelings and hunches and all that crap,” he advised angrily. “I don’t believe in that baloney, and neither should you. You’re good—great—because you make inferences other people miss. You connect the dots in a coroner’s report or a psych test or an interrogation transcript. That’s the second most important part of your job, and you’re terrific at it.”

“And the first most important part of my job is being able to articulate my theory to the field agents based on facts.” She gave a heartfelt sigh. “I’ve heard you say that a million times. And guess what. I tried, but I couldn’t. I knew it was Horton, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.” Completely deflated, she slumped in her chair and admitted, “I screwed up.”

Ray snorted. “Is this where I’m supposed to tell you it’s okay because it all turned out for the best?”

“No. Not at all.” She studied her hands for a second, then summoned the nerve to ask, “Am I fired?”

“Yeah, right. I’m gonna fire you the same day I’m ordered to give you a commendation.”

“Ordered?” Her gut twisted into a knot. “By whom?”

“Your secret admirer. Ulysses S. Payton.”

Kristie groaned, knowing how much Ray resented the colonel’s license to meddle in his project. “I don’t want a commendation from him.”

“You don’t have a choice. It’s already part of your record, just like the telegram from the kids’ parents, praising you—or rather, Melissa—for saving both their children. Congratulations,” he added bitterly.

“I’m sorry, Ray.”

“Just tell me it’s never going to happen again.”

“It won’t. I promise. It was a unique, once-in-a-lifetime screwup. I take full responsibility, and I give you my word it will never, ever happen again.”

“There’s enough blame to go around,” he murmured. “I should have seen this coming with you. You’re too involved with your cases. And way too chatty with your operatives. I’ve given you latitude because you’re—well, because you’re you. That ends today.”

“I’m not me anymore?” she quipped, but when his eyes flashed, she told him quickly, “I’m just joking because I feel so guilty about letting you down. And just for the record, it wasn’t your fault. You made the rules very clear to me. I knew I was breaking them.”

“With Russo’s help. That stupid screwup.”

“Don’t blame Justin.”

Ray snorted again. “If anything, I blame him the most. He’s an experienced agent. He should’ve known better than to let you call the shots.”

“He was desperate. After six days of frantically searching for that sweet little girl, he believed he had failed. The poor guy felt like crap when he called me. Then I promised him we could find her if he did exactly what I said. That’s the only reason he smuggled a phone into Randy’s cell. So don’t judge him, please?”

Her boss eyed her intently. “New rules, starting today. Is that understood?”

“New ones? Wouldn’t it be enough if I just started obeying the old ones?”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Ray agreed. “But no. You apparently need some extra ones. So here goes. I want you to register any and all personal telephone lines and cell phones with us from now on. We’ll randomly monitor them just like we do everything else.”

“Fine with me. What else?”

“Start using your backups. That’s what they’re there for.”

Kristie grimaced. The thought of slaving over a scenario and getting it perfect, only to abandon it for twelve full hours every night was unbearable. She had faith in her fellow spinners, but knew in her gut no one could run her cases as well as she could.

Ray leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, clearly frustrated again. “You can’t live this job twenty-four hours a day, Kris. It affects your objectivity.”

“And objectivity is the key to good spinning? I believe that as much as you do. But the field agents never call at night unless it’s an emergency, and in emergencies, it’s especially vital for the original spinner to take the call.”

“This isn’t a negotiation.” He exhaled sharply. “Do you understand that you’ve got to get a life? Make friends. Go to parties. Go on dates! It’ll make you sharper. More valuable to everyone, especially the field agents.”

“I have a life. I don’t just sit by the phone and wait for operatives to call at night, you know.”

When he arched a disbelieving eyebrow, she explained, “I exercise. And study. I actually have a lot on my plate.”

“You study?” He chuckled. “What’s left for you to learn? I thought you knew it all.”

“If you must know, I’m teaching myself Italian. And a little Greek. And kickboxing, too. All the things I lied about in my interview that impressed you so much.”

“You’re teaching yourself kickboxing?”

“I have a great video.”

His tone was gently mocking. “You can’t learn self-defense that way, Kristie. Let me set up some lessons for you. Or I can teach you myself. I have a black belt in karate—”

“And I have a pink belt in pacifism,” she retorted. “I don’t need self-defense training. I just want to understand what my operatives go through. It’s a Zen thing—mental, not physical.”

“Zen kickboxing?” Ray chuckled again, then shook his head as though to clear away the congenial moment. “Starting today, you’re using your backup.”

“But—”

“If something happens that your backup can’t handle, he or she will contact you, even if it’s three o’clock in the morning. You’ve got to trust them to do their jobs half as well as you do yours.”

“Like I said, the operatives don’t call in the middle of the night unless it’s an emergency. Which means the backup is going to have to refer the call to me anyway. It just seems like a waste of time.”

“Emergencies?” Ray reached for a pile of folders and flipped open the top one. “According to this file, you specifically told Will McGregor that he should contact you—day or night—with any question or concern, however small.” Raising his gaze, he repeated in disgust, “However small?”

“Okay. I went a little overboard. And for the record, it didn’t have any effect. McGregor has never once contacted me. Not at night, not during the day. Not for anything, big or small.”

Ray surprised her by grinning at that. “Drives you nuts, doesn’t it?”

“No.”

“Sure it does. It bugs you that he won’t let you play virtual field operative. He does his job his way, not yours. That’s why I’ve been assigning so many of his cases to you. So you’d learn the division of labor around this place.” His voice softened. “Just for the record, McGregor never contacts any spinner once the case is under way. Not even me. So don’t take it personally. But do try to learn a lesson from it.”

Leaning forward, he explained, “You and McGregor are a great team. Every assignment you’ve had with him has been an unqualified success. Why? Because you prepare a flawless background report and identity for him, and he takes it from there. End of story.”

“He really doesn’t call you either?”

Ray confirmed with a nod. “I used to handle all his cases personally because they’re invariably hot potatoes. But I’ve never once spoken to the guy in my capacity as a spinner. And only rarely as the director of SPIN. To him, we’re just an anonymous resource. Because he’s a true professional.”

“I’m sold,” she assured her boss. “From now on, I’m putting a new note in my file. Something like, ‘If you have a nonemergency question between the hours of midnight and 6:00 a.m., please contact my backup.’ How’s that?”

“Six hours off? No way.” Ray leaned forward. “Seven p.m. to 7:00 a.m.—and all day Saturday and Sunday.”

“I’m okay with seven to seven on work nights, as long as the operative is in the same time zone as us. Otherwise, I’ll have to adjust it. And weekends are tricky—”

“Did I mention this isn’t a negotiation?” he asked, clearly struggling not to smile. “But it’s a step in the right direction, so I’ll take it for now.”

“And?”

The smile became a full-fledged laugh. “Yeah, you’re back in my will.”

Kristie sighed in relief. “I really am sorry, Ray.”

“Stop apologizing. You’re a pain in the ass, but you also saved that kid—both kids, actually—so you’re getting another chance. Don’t blow it. And Kris?”

“Yes?”

He walked around to her side of the desk and grasped her chin in his hand, then looked deep into her eyes and murmured, “Nice job.”

She bit her lip, unsure of how to respond, especially in light of David’s remarks.

Then Ray made the decision for her, stepping back and reminding her gruffly, “I’ve got tons of cleanup to do today, thanks to your little prank. And you’ve got a new red folder waiting for you on your desk, so get cracking. Your moment of glory is officially over.”

It was a relief to head back to her SPIN cubicle, tucked in a corner with a view of treetops and clouds. She knew that some people would balk at the industrial furniture and artificial lighting, but to Kristie, this high-tech workspace was heaven.

She checked her messages—three new ones in the last half hour, all complimenting her on the Rodriguez case. Then she reached for the new assignment Ray had left on her credenza, but a ring from her priority line, which was reserved for operative assistance, stopped her.

As always when an operative made contact, her pulse quickened, preparing her for a new challenge. But her voice remained calm, professional and reassuring. “This is S-3. Please identify yourself.”

“This is Special Agent Justin Russo. I’ve got a grateful fourteen-year-old here who wants to talk to Melissa Daniels. Any chance of that?”

“Absolutely. Put him on.”

Randy’s voice was filled with awe. “Hi, Miss Daniels.”

“Hey, sugar. How’s life?”

“Better. Because of you.”

Choking back an un-Melissa-like gulp, Kristie reminded him, “The way I hear it, Lizzie’s big brother was the one who really came through for her. So, fill me in. Have they let you visit her yet?”

“Yeah, we’ve been coloring together all morning. The shrinks want her to draw pictures. To see how messed up she is, I guess. And so far, she hasn’t drawn any monsters or anything. Just our house. And our dog. And us.”

“Those were the images that made her strong during those terrible days. In her heart, she knew you’d find her, some way, somehow.”

“It was you,” the boy insisted. “My mom wants you to come to dinner so we can thank you in person.”

“Tell her I’d love to, but it’s against the rules.”

“Yeah. That’s what Agent Russo said. But I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“I’ll graduate in four years. Then I’ve gotta go to college. But after that, I want to help you rescue children. I’ll even do it for free, and get another job on the side or something.”

Touched, Kristie murmured, “You’ve got what it takes, Randy. That’s for sure. And you’ve got years to decide the best way to help. Look how many people played a part in saving Lizzie. The cops, the FBI, the witnesses, me, you—and now the psychologists, who are still saving her.”

“Yeah, but I want to do what you do.”

“Sugar, you’d have to get some major surgery before you could do that.”

She could hear him blushing through the phone, and congratulated herself impishly for the Melissaesque quip. “Give Lizzie a hug for me, sugar. And put Agent Russo on again.”

“Okay. Bye, Miss Daniels.”

“Bye, handsome.”

Justin was laughing when he got back on the line. “What did you say to the poor kid?”

“Hmm?”

“Never mind. We’ve got important business to discuss.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’m taking the next two weeks off.”

“You deserve it.”

“Right. This case has been a killer. So I’m headed for Tahiti, and I want you to come along.”

Kristie sighed. “Take a real girl, Justin. You don’t know anything about me. I could be old enough to be your grandma. Or married. I could even be a guy.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he retorted, then his tone softened. “It doesn’t have to be romantic, Essie. We’re friends, right? I just want to get to know you. To thank you for what you did. Plus, you need a break, too. I’m sure Ortega’ll give you time off after what you did last night.”

“After what I did last night, he gave me a lecture, all about the rules of spinning. I broke most of them, you know. But even I respect the one about socializing with operatives.”

“I socialize with other agents all the time, and that doesn’t keep me from being objective when it counts,” Justin muttered. “It’s a bullshit rule, Essie. Ask Ortega to make an exception, or I might just have to take matters into my own hands.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I know where SPIN headquarters is located, more or less. Maybe I’ll spend my vacation on a stakeout instead of an island. That’s what I do for a living, remember? And I’m pretty good at it. If I want to meet you, I can and will.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” she scolded him. “I know you’re kidding, but the monitors might think you’re serious and get us both in trouble. So just be a good little agent and tell me you’re going to Tahiti.”

Justin growled. “I forgot about that monitor bullshit. Yeah, yeah, I’m kidding.”

“And?” she prompted him.

“And I’m going to Tahiti for mindless sex with beach bunnies.”

“That’s better.”

“You oughta take a break, too. And if any monitors are listening,” the agent raised his voice and warned, “get your own lives and stop listening to ours!”

Kristie laughed fondly. “Have fun in Tahiti, Justin. Drink something frosty and tropical for me.”

“Will do. And I’ll call as soon as I get back.”

“Assuming we have an active assignment together,” she reminded him, still wary of the monitors.

“Stupid bullshit rules,” he repeated in clear disgust. “Take care, beautiful.”

“Bye, Justin.”

As she hung up the phone, she remembered what the agent had said. They were friends. Nothing romantic about it. Just like Kristie and Ray.

Glancing toward her boss’s office, she saw him standing there, watching her through the glass wall, his hands on his hips. Without hesitation, she smiled and waved, and to her delight, he smiled and waved back—his old self again.

So much for David’s lame-brain theory, she told herself happily, then she opened the new folder—red, which meant it was politically sensitive and on a fast track—and settled down to spin.