Rudnick listened with riveted interest. When she finished, he leaned back and seemed to absorb her pain. His eyes were glazed with nascent tears. “You’ve dealt with cases where families never learn the fate of their missing loved ones, yes?”
Vail nodded almost imperceptibly.
“Then this episode, at its very least, will make you a better agent. It will give you instant credibility when confronting a similar situation. That type of empathy can’t be faked or created. It’s genuine or it’s not there.” He paused a moment, studied her face, then continued. “As to you personally, how are you dealing with Robby’s disappearance?”
Vail wrapped a lock of hair around her right index finger, then pulled it behind her ear. “Not very well. That was one of those times when my anger management counseling didn’t help.”
“Understandable,” Rudnick said. “What else?”
“As you’d expect. I’m on edge. I’m not sleeping well. When I get the chance to actually sleep.” She turned toward the wall where the doctor’s numerous certificates and licenses hung in ornate gold leaf frames. There was even a commendation or award of some sort bearing the Bureau seal, but at this distance she couldn’t make it out.
“I see. And how will you feel should you find out that Robby has died?”
Vail felt a ball in her throat, blocking her airway. She coughed, a dry rasp that cleared her trachea but didn’t completely dislodge the lump. “I refuse to accept his death. Not now. When I see a body,” she nodded. “Then I’ll accept it. Then I’ll deal with it. Until then, he’s alive.”
“I think we may need to eventually discuss at what point you stop looking and possibly accept a fate we don’t want to acknowledge.”
Vail started to answer but Rudnick held up a hand.
“That’s not for us to discuss right now. I’m planting a seed. At present, you have a goal. You’re driven to find someone who means a great deal to you.” He tilted his head, looked her face over, side to side, then top to bottom, before coming to rest on her eyes. “But don’t let it consume you, Karen. You have a son who depends on you. From what you’ve told me, he’s developed a special relationship with Robby, that Robby fills the void left by your absent and ill-intentioned ex-husband. Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Then remember that Jonathan will be hurting, too.”
Vail dropped her gaze to her lap.
“Does Jonathan know? About Robby?”
“He asked me if Robby was coming by. I danced around the question but didn’t say anything about his going missing.”
“There’ll come a time when you realize it’s best to level with your son. And he’s going to need you. You can bring him with you, if you’d like. And you can break the news to him here.”
Vail looked up, pursed her lips. “Thanks. I think I’d rather do it. At home.” She shook her head, as if waking from a trance. She balled her right hand. “But that’s not going to be necessary because I’m going to find Robby. Alive.”
Rudnick sat back. “Keep your head, Karen. Rational thought will help you find answers. Stay within yourself. Remain focused. And remember: emotion will cloud your thinking, blind you to what’s there in front of you.”
“I see you know me quite well.”
Rudnick lifted both hands palm up and smiled. “I’m a student of behavior, Karen. Just like yourself.”
“Everything’s a learning experience.”
“That’s true,” Rudnick said. But his face stiffened and he leaned forward with an index finger raised. “Just make sure you take away the correct lesson.”
41
As Vail made her way back to her car, she mused on the lure of counseling. Talking through your feelings felt good, if you had a skilled therapist who put you at ease. Still, the lure had to be tamed, because if you were not careful, it could become a crutch. And she prided herself in being able to solve her own problems. That was part of what made her a good field agent—instead of always asking for directions or assistance, she knew the constructs of her rules and regulations—and she acted accordingly. Fine, sometimes I act outside those regs . . . but, fuck it. Aside from my visits to Guevara, I never strayed too far and OPR’s investigations always cleared me.
The drive back to Aquia, Virginia, where the behavioral analysis unit was located, allowed her to be alone with her thoughts in a relaxed, posttherapeutic state, for the first time she could remember. She had been in motion, in meetings, and in confrontations for eleven days straight, with little sleep. The amount of adrenaline her body had manufactured and released over that time period would be precedent setting. Does Guinness track world records for biologic fluid production? Probably not.
Vail took the 143A exit off I-95, then swung her car into the unit’s parking lot. Two minutes later she was walking the hall to her office. The lure of her boss’s door was too great. She grabbed the knob, pushed through, and greeted Lenka. “Can I have a minute?”
“Let me see if he’s free.” She lifted her phone and pushed a button. A moment later, she said, “You can go in.”
Vail took a seat in front of Gifford’s oversize desk. “Anything new from the San Francisco field office on Robby?
Gifford peered at her over his reading glasses. “Nothing. They were just given the case yesterday, Karen. Cool your jets.”
“Who’s the lead agent?”
Gifford held up his hands. “No. I’m not going to tell you. I want you hands-off. Let them do their jobs. They don’t need Karen Vail giving them the third degree every day.”
Vail opened her mouth to object.
Gifford pointed at her across the desk. “And don’t tell me that wouldn’t happen.”
Vail swallowed her words and shrunk in her seat. Oh, yes it would happen. Yessiree. I’d keep them on their toes. I’d drive their asses to work the case hard.
“Do you know if they’ve at least gotten hold of Robby’s cell phone logs? I haven’t heard back from the lab about whether or not they’ve been able to recover the call data off his phone. I haven’t even gotten his logs from the wireless carrier.”
“All of that’s going directly to the agents out of San Francisco.”
Vail clenched her jaw. “If you don’t mind me asking, sir—”
“Whenever you start a sentence like that, my answer should be, ‘Yes, in fact, I do mind,’ so don’t bother asking.”
Vail ignored the remark. “I don’t get why it was so important for me to abandon Robby’s search. Yeah, the PFL vic looks like the work of a sexual predator, and the UNSUB is likely someone who could become serial, but it’s not a serial case. Not yet. If ever.”
“I told you—not that you were listening—but it’s a high-profile murder. I had no one else to assign it to and I wanted to get out in front of it ASAP.”
“But the body’s been moved. Another few days wouldn’t have mattered.”
Gifford removed his glasses. “Another few days. Really. When do you think you’d have been ready to come home, Karen? If you hadn’t broken Detective Hernandez’s case, you’d still be stalling, hoping you’d find something. And I’d be short an agent.”
Vail felt her blood pressure rising. “You’d be short an agent? Big fucking deal. Robby—Robby could be holed up in a shed somewhere in Napa, without food and water. He won’t survive much longer.”
“And he could already be dead.” Gifford looked away and rubbed a hand across his forehead. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He met Vail’s eyes, and she could see his face was flushed, his remorse genuine.
“I’m as concerned about Robby as you are,” he said in a low voice. “There are agents working the case. If there’s something to do, something that only you can do, I’ll let you know. But you’ve got other work. I have three units to run. And your unit chief’s not a happy camper, trying to juggle cases with a skeleton crew. It’s my job to make sure he can do his job.”