Page 4 of So Dark

Normally, that voice was a welcome voice, but since Faith knew what hearing that voice now meant, it wasn’t welcome here. She turned to Special Agent Desrouleaux, her colleague at the Philadelphia Field Office, and frowned. “This is my case, Desrouleaux. This asshole left a body on my door with a message for me.”

“That’s exactly why it’snotyour case,” Desrouleaux replied. “And it’s why you can’t go inside.” In a softer voice, he added, “I’m sorry, Faith. You know it’s not me making this call.”

Faith glared at Desrouleaux. His partner, Special Agent Chavez, paled even though Faith’s glare wasn’t aimed at her. “I’ll deal with the Boss in the morning,” she told him, “but I’m going in now.”

“Actually, you’re going to talk to him tonight. He told me to tell you to take your phone off silent and go to the office right now. He told me to use a few colorful words to make the point, but I left them out.”

Faith sighed and rubbed her temples. “How thoughtful of you.”

“I’m sorry, Faith.”

“I’m getting sick of hearing that.”

She looked at her door, then at Reggie. The city detective had adopted the impassive stare of an experienced police officer who had no opinion whatsoever on the actions of his superiors.

Faith pulled her phone from her pocket and saw that she had ten missed phone calls from the office. She sighed and sent the Boss a text.On my way.

“Come on, Turk,” she said. “Time to get our asses chewed out.”

CHAPTER TWO

Special Agent-in-Charge Grant Monroe—known semi-affectionately to his subordinates as the Boss for his no-nonsense attitude and drill sergeant demeanor—was at one time the most decorated field agent in the Bureau. He didn’t have the public notoriety of people like Ness and Hoover, but that only increased his mystique in the Bureau. Office politics kept him from the Directorship he had earned, but had guaranteed that he would maintain his stranglehold on the Philadelphia Field Office for as long as he wanted.

Faith was the current most decorated field agent in the Bureau. Unfortunately, she hadn't managed to fly under the public's radar the way Monroe had. In her defense, Monroe had earned his reputation breaking up organized financial crime while she had earned hers capturing serial killers. In the Bureau's defense, they didn't give a shit. She was a celebrity, and that made her a liability. Faith was certain that was the Boss's reason for boxing her out of the case.

His first words to her when she and Turk stepped into his office were, “Is there a reason you don’t answer your phone anymore?”

“I apologize for that, sir. I left it on silent so I could sleep on the flight and forgot to turn it back on when we landed.”

"You don't get to make mistakes like that, Bold. You've been here eleven years. I was trying to tell you to come straight here and avoid your apartment. You're lucky as hell, Desrouleaux said the crazy train hadn't arrived yet."

By crazy train, the Boss meant the gaggle of reporters who at any moment would gather around the building wanting to talk to Faith. Faith decided it wasn’t worth mentioning that the samegaggle would eventually make their way to the field office. It would happen soon enough.

"Again, sir, I apologize," she said thinly. "I was more concerned with the fact that one of my neighbors had been brutally murdered and left with her eyes in her palms in front of my door."

“And as a person, I sympathize. As your boss, you don’t get to fuck up no matter how much it sucks. We talked about this, Faith. You’re one bad day away from being forced to fly a desk.”

Faith sighed irritably. “That’s bullshit, sir. With all due respect.”

"That's cute. Eleven years with the Bureau, and you still think the brass cares about bullshit."

Faith’s lips thinned. “So because West’s case is the new primetime darling, I can’t investigate the case of the latest serial killer to directly threaten me by murdering people?”

"No one's blaming you for what's going on, but yes. Have you ever read those stories of people who lose their jobs because their crazy exes show up at their workplace and cause a scene?"

“Please don’t refer to West as my crazy ex.”

The Boss sighed. “I apologize for that. That’s not what I meant. But look, we talked about this. The more you’re in the media, the more the brass want you off the field. Turk’s up for retirement at the end of the month, and a lot of people want you to go with him. They can’t fire you, but they can promote you to ASAC of some Podunk town in the Midwest and stick you behind a desk for the next twenty years.”

To most other agents, a promotion to ASAC would be cause for celebration, but the Boss knew Faith well enough to know that she would rather eat glass than be pushed out of field work. She crossed her arms and looked past him at the shuttered window behind his desk.

“I don’t want that for you,” the Boss continued, “but you have to help me. You have to show that you’re willing to play ball.”

Faith rolled her eyes. “I played ball with West, and look where that got me.”

The Boss didn’t reply for a moment. When he did, his normally gruff voice was subdued. “Do you think this new killer is as dangerous as West?”

“I don’t know. I’m not allowed to look into it.”

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