“You didn’t tell Rook.”
“I didn’t think I could.”
“But you also didn’t turn down the promotion.”
Seeing him reflect on that, Nikki started to feel that she had made a mistake coming there. She didn’t care if passing through discomfort was the path, and that the best way out was always through, and blahdy-blahdy-blah. She wanted relief, not more agony. “Let me tell you what else this is all wrapped up in,” she said, hearing a desperation in her eagerness, but feeling the need to be understood.
Heat talked about the case. Not all the details, of course, but the psychologist nodded an awareness of it when she mentioned Keith Gilbert. The crucial thing, she said, was that Rook seemed to be with her, a partner as he always was, right up to when Captain Irons spilled the beans about the task force.
“That was a turning point. From that moment on, it was like he had become an adversary. Not only refuting the evidence I was gathering, but actively working to develop contrary leads for his article.”
“He was on assignment?”
“Yes.”
“On the case you’re working?” She nodded and he asked, “Isn’t that different for you two? Except for those profiles he did?”
“Yes, but this goes beyond his journalistic zeal. He not only seemed to be pulling against me, he planted doubts in my squad, and, as a result, I’ve got issues with some of my detectives.”
He asked her to describe those, which led her to describe her conflicts with Raley and Ochoa. “The upshot of all this is that I’ve now had my arrest pulled. I’ve never been called into question like this.”
“I have a lot of great cops sit here and tell me about their firsts. Setbacks top the list.”
“They’ve got it wrong.”
“I’m reading a defensiveness I’ve never seen before. Is there some part of you that worries you may be wrong?”
“No.”
“All right. What about, perhaps, that you may have missed a step along the way?”
She started to say no but held back. “…Well. OK, honestly?” He watched her, just patiently letting her come to it herself. “I admit I may have pushed it. Not cut corners, I never do that. But in a few instances, I may have made some slips in judgment or hurried things where I wanted them to go instead of waiting them out or closing all the loops.”
“Why is that, do you think?”
After an eternal moment of air conditioning hiss, she said, “Maybe this got to me on some personal level.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. The case. I can’t explain it, it’s a feeling.”
“Feelings are what we do here, Nikki.” He smiled encouragement.
“I got a few buttons pushed.”
“Rook?”
“For sure.”
“What else?”
“I don’t know.” Nikki slid forward, the scooched back, trying to center herself on the couch. “Lately, I’ve been feeling like a crash-test dummy for stress. Everywhere I turn, there’s one more thing pissing me off. Rook, One PP, my own squad. I just wanted to run this case.”
“Your way?”
The implication hung there between them. “I’ve always been a collaborator, Dr. King. And open-minded about an investigation and new ideas.”
“Always been. What about now?”
She didn’t speak. Her look told him they both knew the answer.
“A couple of observations.” He set his Circa notebook on the side table and crossed his legs, signaling a new mode. “One of the issues we have dealt with in prior sessions is the murder of your mother.”
“Well, that was solved about two years ago.”
“Closing a case doesn’t settle all that’s happening within you. In fact, it could be part of this issue.” He picked up his notebook again for a glance. “When I reviewed my notes after you phoned last night, I recalled that I asked you once — and this was before you solved her murder — what life would be like without the sense of purpose the pursuit of your mother’s killer gave you. Have you had difficulty adjusting after that?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Do. Try it on. That sense of mission was a convenient way to sublimate. It’s not uncommon to replace rage with purpose. And when the purpose goes away, what comes back? Rage in trauma victims doesn’t get relieved by externals like case closure. It defers. Like squeezing a balloon, the pressure moves elsewhere. Is this case really any different than any other? Maybe you’re still working it out.”
“I don’t go around feeling rage.”
“You threw a drink in Rook’s face.” The serpent beneath her skin moved again and she lowered her gaze.
“Now, don’t feel judged. On the upside, it’s nice to see someone as controlled as you be spontaneous. Also, rage is human. Rage lives somewhere in all of us. I’m sure it has helped us survive from prehistoric times to now. But we’re not cavemen anymore. In daily, civilized life rage can be toxic. And a waste of good scotch.”
“Tequila.”
He allowed his version of a chuckle and his eye line went to the clock she knew sat over her shoulder. “Before we run out of time, I want to discuss you and Rook.” Hearing his name, Nikki felt her skin bristle like the onset of a rash. “You say he was going to propose to you last night?”
“I thought so. I’d found that receipt, and he gave all the signs and set up a very romantic evening for us. I even think I saw the box in his pocket.”
“How do you feel about that? The possibility of marrying him?”
“Hold on, are you saying I created a scene to derail his proposal?”
“Who knows? The subconscious is an impish little bastard. But I’m interested more in your feelings about this relationship.” She had come there seeking some measure of relief and now she found herself being prodded into even deeper distress.
As if he were reading her thoughts, King said, “I know this is hard, but you came here because of your incident with Rook. Let’s talk about him.” Heat gathered herself and gave a willing nod. He consulted his notes again. “You’ve been together, what, three years now? Mostly, the relationship has been good for you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And I can only imagine the challenge of two strong-willed high achievers sharing both careers and romance. In fact, when he took on your recent murder case as the subject of his investigative piece, it kind of set you up for conflict, didn’t it?”
“I see that now. When he mentioned it, I assumed he’d just ride along.”
“And write up your findings like dictation?” He let that sink in. “It might help if you recognize you are living the quintessential modern relationship, Nikki Heat. Passion and career demands are a volatile mix. This quarrel over your case may be the tip of an iceberg. Especially when you have needs and ambitions that conflict with his.”
“The task force?”
“It’s a lot to consider. But consider it, you must. And seek to resolve. Think you’re going to talk with him about this?”
“If he’s still talking to me.”
“Do yourself a favor before you do. Ask yourself this: Given what you’ve just gone through, can you see a long-term future with Rook when it’s only going to get more demanding?” He stood and said, “In case you’re wondering, I can’t answer that for you. I only ask questions.”
It’s always back to Jeopardy, she thought.
Wally Irons snared Heat as she passed his doorway on her way in. “Where’s your two guys, Starsky and Hutch?”
“Assuming you are referring to Detectives Raley and Ochoa; right about now they’re up in Dutchess County following up a lead.”
“Oh.” He held up a memo and put out his lower lip in an unconscious pout. “I was going to announce this to your squad, but seeing as you don’t have a quorum for roll call, here. You tell them.” He handed her the sheet of paper. “All leaves and vacations are canceled in light of the approaching hurricane.”