Page 212 of Solanum

"Devontae Lonchamp and Brody are working him now," answered Wilkinson.

My shoulders bristled at the mention of Nora's name, but I managed to keep a handle on it for the time being. "Why not Chin?"

"She doesn't have the experience with this level of threat," said Wilkinson. "You both can head down there. Coleman's meeting us."

"Why is the head honcho meeting us?" I pressed.

"Not often we bring in a suspect with a body count and crime scene of this capacity," Wilkinson said rather coolly.

"Ah." I clapped him on the shoulder. "She's making sure you don't Clark this up. I get it."

Jackson smirked, cocking a brow of approval in my direction.

"Get out of my face, Donovan." Wilkinson pointed toward the door. "Both of you."

Jackson and I left, each holding on to our amusement for the time being.

"Think he'll retire soon?" asked Jackson once we cleared earshot.

"Yeah. After the fiasco with James on top of everything else…" I nodded. "End of year. Mark my words. He's waiting it out for his full benefits."

"Kind of a smart move," said Jackson, stretching his arms over his head coupled with a dramatic yawn. He shook his head, sending his dreads dancing across his back. "I'm beat. Let's collar this fucker so I can go home to my woman."

When we arrived at holding, Chin, Roderick, and Jenson stood beside Chief Walsh. My faithful roomie, Moreno, joined them. His narrowed eyes stared into the interview room through the two-way mirror. Cameras recorded and Gordo sat in the far corner, manning the controls. I made to say something to Walsh until I noticed Nora seated across the table from the suspect.

My stomach dropped instantly, and I bullied my way through the crowd to the front of the room.

"Why is she in there alone?" I demanded as anger boiled in my blood. "Where's Lonchamp?"

"He was in earlier, but the perp was unresponsive to him. Brody's touch is different," answered Walsh. "Don't give me that look, Donovan. It's not my goddamn call."

"You're fucking standing here watching, aren't you?" I shoved past him and moved closer to the window. I clicked on the audio so that we could hear the conversation between the two.

Nora sat calmly, her expression gently blank as I'd seen many times before during her interviews. Her posture, crossed legs, and relaxed hands in her lap spoke nothing of any emotion or any reaction in her presence. Hollister stared at her. His dark hair and scruffy face appeared calm at first. He folded his hands, fingers interlaced, despite the cuffs that tethered him to the table.

"So, you're the gentle psych. Is that why you're in here?" Hollister asked Nora. A soft chuckle left him and he leaned forward so his chest touched the table. "You can be honest with me…"

Nora mimicked his posture, leaning forward in direct challenge. The only difference belonged to their expressions. Hollister appeared annoyed while Nora's calmness remained.

"Contrary to what you may believe, Mister Hollister, I'm a Federal Agent and my handling of suspects is rarely gentle," she said, her tone smooth as melted butter.

I fought the smirk that tugged the corner of my mouth while I watched Nora at work. It'd been a long time since I'd seen her run circles around a suspect while they scrambled to keep up.

"A pretty little thing like you anything but gentle?" Hollister scoffed when he leaned back. "I find that hard to believe."

Nora shrugged, her palms lifting upward briefly. "Suit yourself. Regardless, we're both in here until otherwise specified. You can use that time to talk to me, or you can use it to attempt a reaction out of me. That's your choice."

"What do you want me to tell you, shrink? That I was born on a cold lonely Sunday to an unloving widow and raised by a cold-hearted nanny?" His scowled darkened the shadow of his brow. "Forget it, Doc. You're wasting our time."

"Suit yourself," Nora repeated, motioning in his direction. She fell quiet after that, waiting him out the way she often did. To me, it was one of her best moves. Seeing how long a suspect could tolerate a silence became a sort of game to us.

Roderick appeared beside me, a half-smile plastered on his face while he counted off on his fingers. I tried not to chuckle and drew my attention back to Nora.

"So, we're supposed to fucking sit here doing nothing?" burst Hollister. "Eventually one of us is going to have to piss."

Nora remained silent, her gaze locked on his. In moments like this, she became a stark contrast to the woman I took home every night. It reminded me of those internet hashtags about how to top your top. She never tried, but if she pulled this pregnant silence bit, I might crack.

"He lasted nine seconds," muttered Roderick. "Wimp."

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