Page 27 of Shattered Sanctuary

“How can you tell?”

Kaely smiled. “Body language. When someone is being honest, they lean toward you. Adrian’s legs were relaxed, and he met our eyes. Remember when he first sat down, he leaned back in his chair and seemed rather jumpy?”

Erinhadnoticed, but she’d concentrated more on what he’d said. Kaely was right. In fact, when he changed his body language, she’d felt more relaxed. Must have been an innate understanding that his attitude had changed.

“Okay, I get it,” she said. “I learned to read body language when I was on the force, but only the more obvious reactions. We had to anticipate someone’s actions in case they were getting ready to pull a gun or a knife. But we weren’t taught the more subtle signs.”

“While we’re together, I’ll try to teach you more about it,” Kaely said. “I’m sure you could use it in your books.”

Erin shook her head. “Not sure there will be any other books.”

“You still haven’t decided what you want to do?

“No. My agent keeps calling, and my editor has left several messages. The publisher has even offered a larger advance and an increased royalty percentage. It’s a great offer. I just don’t know if this is what I want to do with my life.”

“You enjoyed writing the first book, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” Erin said. “But like I told you, it was a way for me to live out my dream.” She shrugged. “That dream was to be a behavioral analyst for the FBI. Not to be an author.”

“You told me that writing the book helped you.”

“In some ways, yes. I had nothing else to do. I needed something to fill my days. Working on the book accomplished that. But it wasn’t everything I’d hoped it would be.”

Kaely stared at her for a moment, making Erin feel a little uncomfortable.

“Can you explain that? I’m not sure I understand.”

Erin frowned at her. “Did they train you how to interrogate suspects in the FBI?”

Rather than look offended, Kaely laughed. “Actually, we didn’t do that at the BAU. About the only interrogation we administered was to each other. Sometimes it helped us to write a profile if we picked each other’s brains.”

Erin was sorry that she’d snapped at Kaely and grateful that she didn’t seem upset. It wasn’t Kaely’s fault that she had certain sore spots.

“Like I said, working on the book helped me in several ways,” she said. “But it also made me realize that I had no chance of ever living out the life I was writing about. That made it harder.”

“You know, it’s true that leaving the police departmentcould hurt your chances of joining the FBI—and becoming part of the BAU. It depends on whether or not you received counseling. If you required heavy meds. A doctor would probably have to provide a written assessment stating that your symptoms were minimal. You might even have to pass a psych evaluation administered by a Bureau psychiatrist.”

“So simply being a coward isn’t a problem,” Erin snapped, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“You’re not a coward, Erin,” Kaely said gently. “You went through something horrific. I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t have been affected by what you experienced that night. I’ve known agents with the Bureau who took their own lives because of the pressure of the job and the things they saw. You’re still here. And you’ve become a bestselling author. These aren’t the attributes of a coward.”

Erin bit her lip. They’d just ventured into dangerous territory. She felt closer to Kaely than to anyone she’d ever known, but she wasn’t ready to talk about the locked box she’d been keeping in the closet at home. The box that was now upstairs in the bedroom. Although part of her wanted to tell the truth, she just couldn’t do it. Kaely told Adrian they were both armed, but it wasn’t really true. She’d told Kaely she’d brought her gun, but she hadn’t told her that she hadn’t picked it up since that night. Or that it was locked away because she was afraid she might use it on herself. She may not ever be able to ever share that shameful truth with anyone. Not even Kaely.

“Thanks, but I barely leave my house. I jump every time the phone rings or someone knocks on my door. I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

“I’ll say one other thing, and then I’ll leave this alone,”Kaely said. “I’m certain there are a lot of police and former military who have applied to the academy and who have dealt with PTSD. There’s a process for evaluating the severity of their symptoms and determining whether it would interfere with decision-making and job performance. If you want, I can check it out. Find out if you’d be a viable candidate.”

Erin shook her head. “No. At least not for now, anyway. I was in pretty bad shape when I quit the department. I’m fairly certain the FBI wouldn’t be interested in taking a chance on me when there are so many other qualified people who apply to the academy.”

“Well, let’s table that conversation for now,” Kaely said. “But you didn’t answer my other question. Was writing that book so unsatisfying that you have no desire to do it again?”

Erin sighed. “No, it was satisfying. In fact, I actually enjoyed it. Especially the research. I loved that part. I enjoy learning, and you were so helpful. I truly couldn’t have written the book without you. And making up stories? It can be exciting. But I learned thatwritingthe book is the easy part. After that comes the editing... again... and again. But that’s still not the worst part.”

Kaely grinned. “The worst part was all the money you made?”

Erin grunted. “No, the promotion. For crying out loud. I hoped people would read the book and just... like it. Tell other people about it. But it was this interview and that podcast and a book-signing tour—which I refused to do, by the way. I’m a very private person, Kaely. I don’t want to...”

“To let people get to know you? To realize that your book meant something to your readers, that they want to connect with you?”

---