Page 37 of So Lethal

Faith glared at him. “Word of advice, Michael. When Ellie complains about something to you, don’t explain to her why the things that irritate her actually make sense.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Fair enough. But since you’re my partner, not my wife, my advice to you is to learn to let the idiocy of the brass roll off your back. We were spoiled with Grant. Now we’re dealing with a perfectly normal moronic ASAC. It happens.”

"How would you know? You never had anyone but the Boss," she replied, using Grant Monroe's nickname.

“I talk to other people,” he quipped. “It’s a skill you should learn someday.”

She gave him the finger and slumped in her chair. “Beth’s probably the one who called the news.”

“Probably,” Michael agreed. “Should we scold her?”

Faith shook her head. “No, there’s no point. Like I told Tabitha, the media was going to find out about this sooner or later. We’re not going to use her as an interpreter, though, so we need to find someone else.”

“Are you still planning to call the San Francisco Field Office?”

“Yeah, I’ll give them a call. Can you feed Turk? He’s giving me puppy eyes again.”

“That’s not just his face?”

“His food is on the bottom shelf of the mini fridge.”

“I know where it is, Grumpy,” Michael said, leading an excited Turk to his soon-to-be-filled bowl. “Call Frisco.”

Faith did just that, only to learn that the Field Office's only ASL interpreter was on vacation for the next six days. She called Ferris and learned that San Jose PD didn't even have an ASL interpreter. "We usually hire out for that," he told her. "I'll text you the number of the agency we use. They're very good."

“I’ll take it, thank you. While I have you on the phone, is there any news on Marcus Wolfe?”

“Nope. He’s still in his house. Neighbor keeps poking his head out the window to see if anything’s going on, but that’s about it.”

Faith nodded. “All right. Keep that unit there as long as you can. If nothing else, it might spook him into staying put and give us some time.”

“Try not to take too much time,” Ferris replied. “We don’t really have a good reason to be there. If someone complains—Marcus included—we might have to vacate.”

Faith sighed irritably. “Well, if anyone in the damned Bay Area wants to translate American Sign Language for me, I’ll be there this afternoon.”

“You got it. Call that place I forwarded to you. They’re good.”

“I’ll do that.”

He hung up, and Faith rubbed her temples for a moment before calling the number. She had never been good at dealing with these little inconveniences in the middle of a case, and this was the second time she and Michael had a suspect but couldn’t manage to have a productive conversation with him. Her tolerance for incidental delays was very low right now.

She dialed the number and got a very pleasant woman named Darla who informed her that they could have an interpreter to her within an hour. That did wonders for Faith’s attitude.

“That would be great, thank you. We’re at the Westin South Bay, room eleven-thirty-seven.”

“I’ll have Rebecca meet you there. Do you have an email address I can send her profile to?”

Faith’s brow furrowed. “Her profile?”

“Yes. We send profiles of all of our interpreters to our clients so you know who you’re working with. It’s an extra layer of security, and we like our clients to see the human side of the work we do. Deaf and hearing-impaired people are one of the most underrepresented groups in the United States. This is one of the little ways we hope to change that.”

“You’re telling me,” Faith said.

She gave Darla her email, thanked her again, then hung up. A moment later, she got the email. Rebecca Thorne, thirty-four. She had been with the interpreter service for two years and had “spoken” American Sign Language for seven. Among her previous employment was a four-year stint at a deaf school in San Leandro, a middle-class suburb in the East Bay a few miles south of Oakland.

Faith noted that she also worked as a volunteer interpreter for the South Bay Community Center. She frowned and noted the dates. She’d started volunteering three months ago, right when Sarah Martinez’s support group started.

That probably meant nothing, but it sent Faith down a rabbit trail. She pulled up the community center website and searched for events tailored to the hearing-impaired.

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