problems.”
“Shit.” Ben gave the machine one last shove, then turned away from it. The first chance he got he was going to pick the lock. “Were you looking for me?”
Tess thought of her scan of the parking lot, then the squad room. She decided on tact rather than truth. “No, I brought in the profile for Captain Harris.”
“You work fast.”
“If I'd had more to work with, it would've taken longer.” With a movement of her shoulders, she expressed both acceptance and dissatisfaction. “I don't know how much help I've been. I'd like to do more.”
“Our job,” Ben reminded her.
“Hi, guys.” Lowenstein passed by and stuck change in the vending machine. In fact she wanted a closer look at the psychiatrist more than she wanted candy. She would have bet a week's pay the rose-colored suit was silk.
“That sucker's defective,” Ben told her, but when she pulled the handle, two candy bars dropped into the tray.
“Two for one,” Lowenstein said, plopping both in her bag. “See you later.”
“Wait a minute—”
“You don't want to make a scene in front of Dr. Court,” Ed reminded him.
“Lowenstein's got my property.”
“You're better off. Sugar'll kill you.” “This is all fascinating,” Tess said dryly as she watched Ben glare at Lowenstein's back. “But I'm pressed for time. I want you to know that I had a suggestion. It's included in my report to the captain.”
Ben stuck his hands in his pockets and looked back at her. “Which is?”
“You need a priest.”
“We've gone that route, Doctor. Ed and I've interviewed a dozen of them.”
“With experience in psychiatry,” Tess finished. “I've given you what I can, but I'm not qualified to probe deeply into the religious angle. And that, in my judgment, is the key.” Her glance skimmed over Ed, but she knew whose opinion she had to sway. “I could research Catholicism, but it would take time. I don't think any ofus wants to waste that. I know of a doctor at Catholic University, Monsignor Logan. He has an excellent reputation in the Church and in psychiatric medicine. I want to consult with him.”
“The more people we consult with,” Ben put in, “the more chance there is of a leak. We can't let the specifics get to the press.”
“And if you don't try something else, your investigation's going to stay right where it is. Stagnant.” She saw the annoyance and rolled over it. “I could go to the mayor, put on the pressure, but that's not the way I want to handle it. I want you to back me on this, Ben.”
He rocked back on his heels. Another shrink, he thought. And a priest at that. But as much as he hated to admit it, the investigation was stagnant. If she wanted to pull a rabbit out of her hat, they might as well look it over. “I'll talk to the captain.”
The smile came easily after victory. “Thanks.” She pulled out her wallet and dropped change into the machine behind him. After brief consideration, she pulled a handle. With a quiet plop a Hershey bar dropped into the tray. “Here you go.” Solemn-eyed, she handed it to Ben. “You really broke my heart. Nice to see you again, Detective Jackson.”
“My pleasure, ma'am.” A grin split his face as he watched her walk away. “Handles herself real well, doesn't she?”
Scowling, Ben tossed the candy bar from hand to hand. “Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “Like a pro.”
I T wasn't like her to fuss about clothes. The truth was, her wardrobe had been meticulously chosen, down to the last cashmere sweater and linen blazer, for the specific reason that Tess didn't have the patience to debate each morning about what to wear. For the most part shestuck with classic styles and blendable colors because they looked best on her and it made it simple to put her hand in her closet and draw out the next thing in line on harried mornings.
But she wasn't dressing for the office. As Tess shoved the third dress back on the hanger, she reminded herself she wasn't dressing
“Shit.” Ben gave the machine one last shove, then turned away from it. The first chance he got he was going to pick the lock. “Were you looking for me?”
Tess thought of her scan of the parking lot, then the squad room. She decided on tact rather than truth. “No, I brought in the profile for Captain Harris.”
“You work fast.”
“If I'd had more to work with, it would've taken longer.” With a movement of her shoulders, she expressed both acceptance and dissatisfaction. “I don't know how much help I've been. I'd like to do more.”
“Our job,” Ben reminded her.
“Hi, guys.” Lowenstein passed by and stuck change in the vending machine. In fact she wanted a closer look at the psychiatrist more than she wanted candy. She would have bet a week's pay the rose-colored suit was silk.
“That sucker's defective,” Ben told her, but when she pulled the handle, two candy bars dropped into the tray.
“Two for one,” Lowenstein said, plopping both in her bag. “See you later.”
“Wait a minute—”
“You don't want to make a scene in front of Dr. Court,” Ed reminded him.
“Lowenstein's got my property.”
“You're better off. Sugar'll kill you.” “This is all fascinating,” Tess said dryly as she watched Ben glare at Lowenstein's back. “But I'm pressed for time. I want you to know that I had a suggestion. It's included in my report to the captain.”
Ben stuck his hands in his pockets and looked back at her. “Which is?”
“You need a priest.”
“We've gone that route, Doctor. Ed and I've interviewed a dozen of them.”
“With experience in psychiatry,” Tess finished. “I've given you what I can, but I'm not qualified to probe deeply into the religious angle. And that, in my judgment, is the key.” Her glance skimmed over Ed, but she knew whose opinion she had to sway. “I could research Catholicism, but it would take time. I don't think any ofus wants to waste that. I know of a doctor at Catholic University, Monsignor Logan. He has an excellent reputation in the Church and in psychiatric medicine. I want to consult with him.”
“The more people we consult with,” Ben put in, “the more chance there is of a leak. We can't let the specifics get to the press.”
“And if you don't try something else, your investigation's going to stay right where it is. Stagnant.” She saw the annoyance and rolled over it. “I could go to the mayor, put on the pressure, but that's not the way I want to handle it. I want you to back me on this, Ben.”
He rocked back on his heels. Another shrink, he thought. And a priest at that. But as much as he hated to admit it, the investigation was stagnant. If she wanted to pull a rabbit out of her hat, they might as well look it over. “I'll talk to the captain.”
The smile came easily after victory. “Thanks.” She pulled out her wallet and dropped change into the machine behind him. After brief consideration, she pulled a handle. With a quiet plop a Hershey bar dropped into the tray. “Here you go.” Solemn-eyed, she handed it to Ben. “You really broke my heart. Nice to see you again, Detective Jackson.”
“My pleasure, ma'am.” A grin split his face as he watched her walk away. “Handles herself real well, doesn't she?”
Scowling, Ben tossed the candy bar from hand to hand. “Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “Like a pro.”
I T wasn't like her to fuss about clothes. The truth was, her wardrobe had been meticulously chosen, down to the last cashmere sweater and linen blazer, for the specific reason that Tess didn't have the patience to debate each morning about what to wear. For the most part shestuck with classic styles and blendable colors because they looked best on her and it made it simple to put her hand in her closet and draw out the next thing in line on harried mornings.
But she wasn't dressing for the office. As Tess shoved the third dress back on the hanger, she reminded herself she wasn't dressing
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