“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?”