Page 7 of So Dark

“Yes.”

“Huh. Well, I’m weird then. I’ll meet you at Rafferty’s.”

“That place is still open?”

“I’m ashamed for you that you have to ask. See you in ten minutes.”

He hung up, and Faith started the car. When she looked into her rearview mirror, she saw that she was grinning. She felt…

Oh, to Hell with it. She felt happy. She’d deal with whatever else came later.

***

Special Agent Michael Prince, Faith’s partner for the entirety of her eleven years in the Bureau, had filled out a little after turning forty a year ago, but he was still handsome in his own boyish way. He wore his signature outfit of a trench coat and a fedora, both utterly unnecessary and completely ridiculous but also totally endearing.

“Boston cream pie and a maple bar,” he said. “And if there’s anything in my cup but coffee, I will throw it in your face and willingly allow Turk to eat me as punishment.”

She laughed. “Good to see you too, buddy.”

“I just saw you like twelve hours ago. It’s not like we’ve been apart for months.”

“What can I say? I have abandonment issues.”

“You certainly have issues.”

They ordered their coffee and donuts and took a table in the far corner of the shop. Rafferty’s was a hole-in-the-wall place, and at this time of night, it was empty except for the two of them.

“So talk to me,” Michael said. “What’s going on?”

Faith took a deep breath. “Oh boy, where to begin? Oh yeah, my neighbor’s body was propped up against my door when I got home tonight.”

Michael nearly spit out his coffee. He set the cup down and choked out, “What?”

She gave him a tight smile. “Yep. Eleanor. She was seventy-eight, and she always gave Turk treats. Someone beat the crap out of her, slit her throat, gouged her eyes out and left them in her palms staring right up at me. Guess what was written on her blouse in her own blood?”

His eyes widened. “Oh shit. Not the same guy who killed the clerk from the electronics shop.”

“If not, then there’s a cult of people who like fucking with me. This message read, ARE YOU LOOKING NOW, FAITH?”

“Jesus.” He shook his head, then his face hardened. “Well, they screwed up. I take it youarelooking now.”

She sighed and picked at her donut, also a maple bar. “No. I was, but Desrouleaux and Chavez showed up and boxed me out. Sent me to the office for the Boss to rip me a new one.”

“Because of the publicity thing?”

She nodded.

Michael sighed. “Well, that’s bullshit.”

“Yep. That’s what I said.”

“What did the Boss say?”

She shrugged. “Same as always. A canned response about how the brass doesn’t care about bullshit followed by a lecture about how hard he’s trying to look out for me, and can’t I just be a good girl for a little while.”

He glanced at her coffee cup and picked it up, setting it out of her reach. “I don’t know why you came to talk to me. You know I agree with him, right?”

She sighed. “Did you move my coffee so I didn’t throw it in your face?"

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