Face of Death

“I want a lawyer or something,” he said. “You can’t do this. This is intimidation, this freaky stuff. She shouldn’t be anywhere near me.”

“Shelley?” Zoe cut across him, looking over at her partner.

Shelley shook her head. “I was watching his face the whole time, Z. He doesn’t recognize the shape. I don’t think he has any clue what’s going on here.”

Zoe slammed her hand down onto the tray, pushing the Band-Aids over onto the floor as she shoved the tray back away from the bed. Another dead end. Another waste of time.

She strode out into the corridor, not waiting for Shelley to follow her, and marched until she found a vending machine. Punching the buttons with more force than was necessary, she waited for the machine to pour out a weak cup of burnt coffee and threw it into her mouth without waiting to check whether it was cool enough.

“Z?”

Zoe turned to see Shelley approaching her cautiously, her steps light and careful. Zoe counted them. One, two, three, four, five. Counted anything, to try to get her heart rate back under control and stop the boiling in her blood at making yet another mistake.

“I told him that we’ll send the state troopers to talk to him later. Debrief, get some particulars, see if he really does have anything to hide or not.”

“I do not care about Bradshaw,” Zoe bit out. “He is not the man we were looking for.”

“I know.” Shelley sighed, placing a hand lightly on Zoe’s upper arm. “Don’t blame yourself. We all made the same mistake. We thought it was him.”

“It was my idea.” Zoe shook her head bitterly. “I was the one who suggested that we go after him. I took the shot.”

“Do you…” Shelley paused, biting her lip. “Do you think we got the wrong place?”

“No.” Zoe felt the conviction still strong in her chest, in her forehead. The pattern did not lie. “Right place, wrong man. I do not know how, but he slipped away from us. Now he knows that we are after him, we may not get the chance again.”

“Ma’am?”

It was Max, hesitating a good few feet away. He had, perhaps, seen Zoe’s violent attack on the coffee machine, and was unwilling to move closer. “We’ve just had word from the station. The story about his sister checks out. She had gone home with her children just a short while before we approached him. It sounds like he was just there for a day out with his family.”

Zoe did not trust her own voice to answer him. It was a relief when Shelley did it for her, simply thanking Max and dismissing him.

“We missed it,” Zoe said, as soon as he was out of earshot. She crumpled the paper coffee cup in her hand, a few last drops of the brown liquid dropping to the floor. “We had the best chance to catch him, and we missed it. He will kill again, if he has not already.”

Shelley said nothing, but moved closer and rested that light touch on Zoe’s arm again. Though it was hardly anything, almost not even there, somehow it was reassuring. A mother’s touch, Zoe thought. Something so alien to her that she had not ever understood it.

The moment was broken by the sound of buzzing at her hip, her cell phone vibrating with a call.

Zoe checked the caller ID, cursed inwardly, and then answered. “Special Agent Prime speaking.”

“I’ve received a report that you have shot a suspect while taking him into custody.” It was not her direct boss, but the man above him. A serious kind of phone call.

Zoe sighed. “Yes, sir.”

“And you’ve since ascertained that this man was innocent, is that correct?”

There was no point in denying it, or attempting to provide reasoning. “Yes, sir.”

“Why do I not have your report on my desk? Why am I hearing this from someone else?”

“We have just left the suspect after interrogation, sir. I am heading back to begin my report now.”

“This is not an acceptable mistake, Special Agent Prime. The reputation of the Bureau is on the line. In the current political climate, we cannot have agents going around shooting whoever they want to.”

“I apologize, sir,” Zoe said, taking a breath to form an explanation—but it was wasted.

“One more misstep on this case and you’re done, Prime. That’s two wrong arrests, one of them with the incorrect use of a firearm. One more and I’m pulling you out of there. Your partner too.”

Zoe’s eyes darted toward Shelley. “Special Agent Rose had nothing—”

“I’m sure she didn’t, but you work as a team, and I expect you to get it right. The rookie will get off lightly. I’m holding you responsible as senior agent, Prime. If this all goes to hell, it’s your job. Do you understand me?”

Zoe wet her lips. There was no other acceptable response. “Yes, sir.”

The line disconnected, going flat in her ear, and Zoe dropped the cell back into her pocket.

“Not good?” Shelley winced sympathetically.

“We should just get back to our investigation room. We have only a day before he will strike again—the real killer.” Zoe rubbed her forehead in an attempt to clear the heavy headache that was forming there, and set off through the winding corridors of the hospital for the exit.