Page 157 of Black Bird

Foley’s eyebrows raised as St. James gave the agent a look that promised her a slow, painful death. “I’m not leav—” Kane started.

“I can handle her,” St. James cut him off, her eyes never leaving Foster’s. “She’s just like every other overly confident bitch I’ve ever met. I’ll be just fine.”

Kane’s jaw tightened, but he turned to close the door as he walked out, flashing a warning look at Agent Foster before clicking it shut. He stepped into the observation room, closing that door as well and taking a place beside the captain. “You could make it a little more obvious, Kane. I’m not sure your invitation for trouble was well-received,” Foley smirked, rolling his eyes.

Kane crossed his arms and watched her through the window, intently. “Amazing, isn’t she?” His voice practically purred with adoration.

“I never thought I’d see the day you, of all people, had it this bad, kid.” Foley turned his face toward him. “You trust Stratford with her?” Kane glanced at him briefly but refused to take his eyes off St. James as he slightly nodded.

“Stratford is a lot of things, Cap. But Sarah swears he’s one of the best lawyers in Boston. He seems pretty damn smart … at least in that sense.”

“Hmm …” Foley tightened his mouth as they both peered through the glass. “Let’s see how he does.”

Every instinct he had screamed at him to shatter this glass and tear his mate out of that room. The hungry look that agent kept giving Sarah had every hair on him standing at attention. Athan tried to keep his composure next to his captain, who had already made it clear enough that he had suspicions about what—not who—he was. He and Sarah were nolonger trying to hide what they were to each other, as it seemed pretty pointless at this juncture. He was no longer on her case and had outright told Foley that he was in love with her. Pretending to be anything but, would leave room for anyone watching to believe that he wouldn’t rip the head right off their body for even looking at her the wrong way.

“So, Miss St. James … where exactly did you run off to this past week?” Foster asked, crossing her legs and resting her hands in her lap.

“Don’t answer that,” Brent ordered, leaning forward. “My client is here today to contest the charges that are wrongfully slandering her name. As I’m sure you already know, she’s the only survivor in the case you’ve been tasked with resuming.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“Then you should also be aware of the fact that she has an alibi for both the murders you’re accusing her of committing. I also fail to see any evidence, other than the likeness of her appearance, that suggests she had anything to do with them.”

Foley hummed beside him, surprised by Brent’s forwardness toward the agent. Athan would be lying if he said he didn’t agree with him. “Alright, Stratford.” Foley smirked. Athan’s arms tightened, and he continued to keep his eyes on Sarah, who occasionally glanced at the window.

Can you hear me?

He thought it’d be a long shot, but Sarah’s eyes flickered to the mirror, and she nodded once. Good. She’d be able to communicate, even if she couldn’t see him. Foster tightened her mouth but shrugged and leaned off the back of the chair.

“I’ll agree with that, Mr. Stratford. Let’s discuss theevidence.” She slapped down a file Athan hadn’t seen her carrying, and opened it up, spreading crime scene photos from both murders—and Sarah’s attack. Although he’d seen them dozens of times, Sarah’s photos hit him like a truck. He had mangled her neck so badly. He saw her throat bob when she looked at it. Something inside him broke. “One of these things is not like … the others.” Foster smirked, sliding the photos toward them. “Does your client care to point out the obvious?”

She was baiting her. A tactic that even seasoned cops rarely got right. Athan’s blood began to thicken.

Don’t give her an inch. Pretend it doesn’t bother you … even if it does.

Brent nodded toward Sarah, giving her a chance to defend herself. Sarah slid the most recent victim’s photo towards her and narrowed her eyes at it. “What is this?” Sarah asked, pointing to the bird in the girl’s mouth.

“That …” Foster started, taking a closer shot out of the file and sliding it over, “… is a small bird. A starling, to be exact. Pretty common in North America. Prettyuncommon, in someone’s mouth.”

“And what’s that got to do with me, exactly?” Sarah leaned back, dropping the photo to the table.

“Well, nothing … however, after going through both your apartment … and Detective Kane’s,” Foster said as she glanced at the window, “I did find it interesting that you both have a fondness for a certain animal. He has one as a pet, doesn’t he?” She smiled at Sarah, and Athan could feel the captain’s eyes on him while he watched on. “Not to mention.” She pulled another photo out, placing it on the table. “There was a pretty clear message on the concrete with his name on it.”

“It’s not unusual for a serial murderer to do their homework, Agent Foster. That doesn’t give you enough reasonable doubt to charge my client with murder,” Brent’s voice had completely changed, and so had his mannerisms. He reached over and scooted the photos away from Sarah. “What it does do, is give my client every reason to press charges for slander, wrongful accusation, and infringement of her rights. If all you have is convenient facts that don’t actually fit together to place her as anything but atargetfor this psycho, then you’ve not only painted her as something she’s not, but also put her in danger. As well as, toyed with her very freedom on nothing but a gut feeling.” He propped his elbows on the table and folded his arms. “Gut feelings don’t hold up in a court of law. Detective Kane has been working this case with his partner, and whoever did do this, knows that. How many cases have we seen where the killer taunts the police? You’ve got nothing.”

“Don’t be too sure about that.” Foster eyed Sarah. “You've been the subject of a much bigger picture for a long time, Miss St. James. While we may not have any direct evidence that ties you to these bodies, we do have enough to claim your involvement. There’s one other detail you’re forgetting about how these victims differ from each other.” Foster no longer held her mocking smile. Instead, her face turned grave. “One of them still has a pulse.”

“So, I’m guilty for living through something horrible? That makes me less a victim than these other two girls, simply because I’m alive? You still don’t even know who did this to me!” Sarah straightened, becoming more unhinged by the minute and Athan bristled.

Easy, love. Stay firm … but easy.

“Oh, I have a pretty good idea … and I think you do too.” Foster kept her ground.

“That’s enough. If you don’t have anything other than what you’ve failed to legally charge her with, then we’re done here. Sarah, don’t say another word.” Brent stood, urging Sarah up from her chair.

“I know why you came to Boston, St. James. I know what it is that you want most, and I’m not lying when I say I have the answers you’re looking for. They come at a price. Your involvement in this case is not a coincidence.”

Sarah was bent over, half-standing and paused. “Sarah, don’t. Whatever it is you think she has is bullshit. Nobody has those answers, and anybody that does didn’t get them legally. Don’t fall for that shit.” Brent tugged on Sarah’s arm. Athan startled as Rhaena and Jenkins stepped into the observation room.

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