Responsibility—at the very least. On the other hand, after having Peter Bondurant jerk him out here like a dog on a leash, he wanted it made clear he wouldn't be manipulated.
“We're running short on time, people. Let's take our seats and get started,” the mayor announced, herding the men toward the conference table like a first-grade teacher with a pack of little boys.
She stood at the political end of the table as everyone fell into rank, and drew breath to speak just as the door opened again and four more people walked in.
“Ted, we were about to start without you.” The mayor's doughy face creased with disapproval at his lack of punctuality.
“We've had some complications.” He strode across the room directly toward Quinn. “Special Agent Quinn. Ted Sabin, Hennepin County attorney. I'm glad to meet you.”
Quinn rose unsteadily to his feet. His gaze glanced off the man's shoulder to the woman trailing reluctantly behind him. He mumbled an adequate reply to Sabin, shaking the county attorney's hand. A mustached cop stepped up and introduced himself. Kovac. The name registered dimly. The pudgy guy with them introduced himself and said something about having once heard Quinn speak somewhere.
“. . . And this is Kate Conlan with our victim/witness program,” Sabin said. “You may—”
“We've met,” they said in unison.
Kate looked Quinn in the eye for just a moment because it seemed important to do so, to recognize him, acknowledge him, but not react. Then she glanced away, stifling the urge to sigh or swear or walk out of the room.
She couldn't say she was surprised to see him. There were only eighteen agents assigned to Investigative Support's Child Abduction/Serial Killer Unit. Quinn was the current poster boy for CASKU, and sexual homicide was his specialty. The odds had not been in her favor, and her luck today was for shit. Hell, she should have
expected
to see him standing in the mayor's conference room. But she hadn't.
“You've worked together?” Sabin said, not quite certain whether he should be pleased or disappointed.
An awkward silence hung for a second or three. Kate sank into a chair.
“Uh—yes,” she said. “It's been a long time.”
Quinn stared at her. No one took him by surprise. Ever. He'd spent a lifetime building that level of control. That Kate Conlan could walk in the door and tilt the earth beneath his feet after all this time did not sit well. He ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Yeah. You're missed, Kate.”
By whom?
she wanted to ask, but instead she said, “I doubt it. The Bureau is like the Chinese Army: The personnel could march into the sea for a year and there'd still be plenty of warm bodies to fill the posts.”
Oblivious of the discomfort at the other end of the table, the mayor brought the meeting to order. The press conference was less than an hour away. The politicians needed to get their ducks in a row. Who would speak first. Who would stand where. Who would say what. The cops combed their mustaches and drummed their fingers on the table, impatient with the formalities.
“We need to make a
strong
statement,” Chief Greer said, warming up his orator's voice. “Let this creep know we
won't rest
until we get him. Let him know right up front we've got the FBI's leading profiler here, we've got the combined resources of
four
agencies working on this thing day and night.”
Edwyn Noble nodded. “Mr. Bondurant is establishing a reward of one hundred fifty thousand for information leading to an arrest.”
Quinn pulled his attention away from Kate and rose. “Actually, Chief, I wouldn't advise any of that just yet.”
Greer's face pinched. Edwyn Noble glared at him. The collective expression from the political end of the table was a frown.
“I haven't had the opportunity to thoroughly go over the case,” Quinn began, “which is reason enough to hold off. We need to get a handle on just who this killer might be, how his mind works. Making
“We're running short on time, people. Let's take our seats and get started,” the mayor announced, herding the men toward the conference table like a first-grade teacher with a pack of little boys.
She stood at the political end of the table as everyone fell into rank, and drew breath to speak just as the door opened again and four more people walked in.
“Ted, we were about to start without you.” The mayor's doughy face creased with disapproval at his lack of punctuality.
“We've had some complications.” He strode across the room directly toward Quinn. “Special Agent Quinn. Ted Sabin, Hennepin County attorney. I'm glad to meet you.”
Quinn rose unsteadily to his feet. His gaze glanced off the man's shoulder to the woman trailing reluctantly behind him. He mumbled an adequate reply to Sabin, shaking the county attorney's hand. A mustached cop stepped up and introduced himself. Kovac. The name registered dimly. The pudgy guy with them introduced himself and said something about having once heard Quinn speak somewhere.
“. . . And this is Kate Conlan with our victim/witness program,” Sabin said. “You may—”
“We've met,” they said in unison.
Kate looked Quinn in the eye for just a moment because it seemed important to do so, to recognize him, acknowledge him, but not react. Then she glanced away, stifling the urge to sigh or swear or walk out of the room.
She couldn't say she was surprised to see him. There were only eighteen agents assigned to Investigative Support's Child Abduction/Serial Killer Unit. Quinn was the current poster boy for CASKU, and sexual homicide was his specialty. The odds had not been in her favor, and her luck today was for shit. Hell, she should have
expected
to see him standing in the mayor's conference room. But she hadn't.
“You've worked together?” Sabin said, not quite certain whether he should be pleased or disappointed.
An awkward silence hung for a second or three. Kate sank into a chair.
“Uh—yes,” she said. “It's been a long time.”
Quinn stared at her. No one took him by surprise. Ever. He'd spent a lifetime building that level of control. That Kate Conlan could walk in the door and tilt the earth beneath his feet after all this time did not sit well. He ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Yeah. You're missed, Kate.”
By whom?
she wanted to ask, but instead she said, “I doubt it. The Bureau is like the Chinese Army: The personnel could march into the sea for a year and there'd still be plenty of warm bodies to fill the posts.”
Oblivious of the discomfort at the other end of the table, the mayor brought the meeting to order. The press conference was less than an hour away. The politicians needed to get their ducks in a row. Who would speak first. Who would stand where. Who would say what. The cops combed their mustaches and drummed their fingers on the table, impatient with the formalities.
“We need to make a
strong
statement,” Chief Greer said, warming up his orator's voice. “Let this creep know we
won't rest
until we get him. Let him know right up front we've got the FBI's leading profiler here, we've got the combined resources of
four
agencies working on this thing day and night.”
Edwyn Noble nodded. “Mr. Bondurant is establishing a reward of one hundred fifty thousand for information leading to an arrest.”
Quinn pulled his attention away from Kate and rose. “Actually, Chief, I wouldn't advise any of that just yet.”
Greer's face pinched. Edwyn Noble glared at him. The collective expression from the political end of the table was a frown.
“I haven't had the opportunity to thoroughly go over the case,” Quinn began, “which is reason enough to hold off. We need to get a handle on just who this killer might be, how his mind works. Making
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