“I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“Do. Try it on. That sense of mission was a convenient way to sublimate. It’s not uncommon to replace rage with purpose. And when the purpose goes away, what comes back? Rage in trauma victims doesn’t get relieved by externals like case closure. It defers. Like squeezing a balloon, the pressure moves elsewhere. Is this case really any different than any other? Maybe you’re still working it out.”
“I don’t go around feeling rage.”
“You threw a drink in Rook’s face.” The serpent beneath her skin moved again and she lowered her gaze.
“Now, don’t feel judged. On the upside, it’s nice to see someone as controlled as you be spontaneous. Also, rage is human. Rage lives somewhere in all of us. I’m sure it has helped us survive from prehistoric times to now. But we’re not cavemen anymore. In daily, civilized life rage can be toxic. And a waste of good scotch.”
“Tequila.”
He allowed his version of a chuckle and his eye line went to the clock she knew sat over her shoulder. “Before we run out of time, I want to discuss you and Rook.” Hearing his name, Nikki felt her skin bristle like the onset of a rash. “You say he was going to propose to you last night?”
“I thought so. I’d found that receipt, and he gave all the signs and set up a very romantic evening for us. I even think I saw the box in his pocket.”
“How do you feel about that? The possibility of marrying him?”
“Hold on, are you saying I created a scene to derail his proposal?”
“Who knows? The subconscious is an impish little bastard. But I’m interested more in your feelings about this relationship.” She had come there seeking some measure of relief and now she found herself being prodded into even deeper distress.
As if he were reading her thoughts, King said, “I know this is hard, but you came here because of your incident with Rook. Let’s talk about him.” Heat gathered herself and gave a willing nod. He consulted his notes again. “You’ve been together, what, three years now? Mostly, the relationship has been good for you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“And I can only imagine the challenge of two strong-willed high achievers sharing both careers and romance. In fact, when he took on your recent murder case as the subject of his investigative piece, it kind of set you up for conflict, didn’t it?”
“I see that now. When he mentioned it, I assumed he’d just ride along.”
“And write up your findings like dictation?” He let that sink in. “It might help if you recognize you are living the quintessential modern relationship, Nikki Heat. Passion and career demands are a volatile mix. This quarrel over your case may be the tip of an iceberg. Especially when you have needs and ambitions that conflict with his.”
“The task force?”
“It’s a lot to consider. But consider it, you must. And seek to resolve. Think you’re going to talk with him about this?”
“If he’s still talking to me.”
“Do yourself a favor before you do. Ask yourself this: Given what you’ve just gone through, can you see a long-term future with Rook when it’s only going to get more demanding?” He stood and said, “In case you’re wondering, I can’t answer that for you. I only ask questions.”
It’s always back to Jeopardy, she thought.
Wally Irons snared Heat as she passed his doorway on her way in. “Where’s your two guys, Starsky and Hutch?”
“Assuming you are referring to Detectives Raley and Ochoa; right about now they’re up in Dutchess County following up a lead.”
“Oh.” He held up a memo and put out his lower lip in an unconscious pout. “I was going to announce this to your squad, but seeing as you don’t have a quorum for roll call, here. You tell them.” He handed her the sheet of paper. “All leaves and vacations are canceled in light of the approaching hurricane.”