Page 15 of So Insane

In an ironic sense, Michael’s silence on the flight was a good thing. Not because it gave Faith time to think but because the pain his anger caused her motivated her to focus on the case so she wouldn’t have to dwell on his hatred of her.

Maybe hatred was too strong a word. He certainly didn’t hate her the way she hated Franklin West.

What the right word might be, Faith didn’t know. She just knew that she felt like everyone else wished she would just go away.

I want you to look around and see nothing but the shattered remnants of your life, and only when all that is left is ash and splinters do I want you to admit defeat.

Faith would never admit defeat. As long as West lived free, she would have a reason to live.

But that didn’t mean that her world wouldn’t burn to the ground around her in the process. She would get West eventually, she knew that. But how much of her life would be left by the time she finally did?

The rumble of the first few seconds on the runway after landing felt profoundly reassuring, and Faith even felt the familiar thrill she always felt at the outset of a case. It was good to know that for now, at least, some of who she used to be remained.

This case seemed more irritating than interesting, though, although anything other than chasing after West would make her feel that way. The truth was there might be no case at all. There were two missing persons, and there was no link between them. In fact, if it weren’t for the recently escaped convict in the area, chances are this case would never have reached the FBI.

Faith didn't mind, though. Typically, missing persons cases were resolved to be nothing more than unannounced travel, a flight of fancy, or a spontaneous decision to abandon one backyard in favor of one that appeared greener. With any luck, the resolution would come quickly, and she and Michael could get to work on a real case.

The real case.

Perhaps she was only dreaming to think that she could convince Michael to help her find West, but it was a somewhat more lucid dream than her attempt to convince the Boss to assign her the case officially. West, after all, was Michael’s fiancée's ex-husband.

Wife. His wife’s ex-husband.

Her lips thinned a little at the reminder that he hadn’t told her about their marriage. She pushed her irritation away quickly, however. The point was that Michael had a personal reason to want West apprehended as fast as possible. She could use that to convince him to join her. With the two of them working together, she had no doubt that they would catch West in short order.

If Michael answered his phone.

The airstair door opened, and Faith pushed those thoughts to the background of her mind and followed Michael from the plane.

They disembarked from the small FBI jet, and a man in a cheap suit met them a few yards from the plane. "Detective Charlie Jones," he said with a nod. He had a scruffy look to him, one she'd seen countless times before on the faces of people with twenty to twenty-five years on the job. Law enforcement agents who didn’t explode into a supernova or condense into a black hole of depression and alcoholism or some other substance abuse settled into a dim white dwarf, continuing in a state of mediocrity until they reached retirement. Then they fell into depression and alcoholism.

That didn’t necessarily mean they weren’t good detectives.

“Good afternoon, detective,” Michael said. “I’m Special Agent Michael Prince. This is my partner, Special Agent Faith Bold and our K9 unit, Turk.”

Turk barked formally. Jones nodded equally formally. “Pleased to meet you.” He looked at Faith and said, “I heard about you. You’re the woman who caught that creep who was poisoning people on the subway.”

The Vampire of the Twin Cities Terminal was one of Faith’s more memorable cases. She and Michael had investigated a series of murders where the victims were poisoned with an industrial solvent and staged so that their bodies were hidden in plain sight, an attempt by the killer to illustrate how little humanity cared about each other.

“That’s me,” Faith said. “Us. Me, Prince and Turk.”

Jones nodded. “Well, we’re happy to have you.”

Faith lifted an eyebrow. “We?”

Jones hooked a thumb at the two waiting cars. Four uniformed officers and a man of similar age and appearance to Jones but wearing a much nicer suit stood in front of one of them.

Detective Jones led them toward the waiting men. He didn't introduce the officers but gestured to the man in the nice suit. "This is Matt Kinzel. He's a U.S. Marshal who works out of the Boulder office."

“You’re here because of the fugitive,” Faith said.

“Yes,” Kinzel replied. “Ferris Tooley. We got reports about break-ins at four locations between where he escaped and here."

"You think this guy is involved with the missing persons?" Faith asked.

Kinzel said, "He was in for kidnapping."

“Excuse me, marshal,” Michael said, a slight edge to his voice. “I’m afraid I was called to this case rather abruptly, and I didn't have time to review any of the details. Could you please enlighten me about the missing persons and the kidnapping?"

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