“What does that mean?”
“Sometimes, you keep me out of the loop, on a need-to-know basis. Or you get irritated when I ask questions. Or completely dismiss a theory. Then other times, you seem to want a dialogue, or seem surprised when I don’t automatically do something—like email Tia.”
He didn’t say anything and Lucy hit herself for being so damn needy. No, it wasn’t that. It was that she wanted to know exactly where she stood. Was there something wrong in that?
“I’m a rookie, and I took your conversation to heart on Saturday night. I had a wonderful dinner with Sean, we spent all day Sunday doing yard work at St. Catherine’s Boys Home, and I barely thought about the case. I know that I’m obsessive and a workaholic. But I also have an impression that you’re waiting for me to slip up.”
“I’m not,” Barry said. “I’m not used to working with a rookie like you. The last rookie we had on the squad was a guy who never should have been in Violent Crimes. He couldn’t handle half the cases we deal with and had no instincts to speak of—in what he said or did. He left the month before you got here—went into an analysis unit at headquarters, because he should never have been around people—so maybe you’re bearing the brunt of my leftover frustration with him.”
Lucy didn’t think that was the complete story, but it satisfied her for the time being. She turned her attention to her phone and sent Tia a message.
Barry pulled up in front of Mona Hill’s apartment building a few minutes later.
It wasn’t what either of them expected.
While the neighborhood wasn’t particularly nice, the apartment complex was well maintained. Two brick buildings faced each over a tidy green courtyard. Each building had a main entrance, so no one had a door that went directly outside, which helped with security. There were blinds on the windows, not the sheets or newspaper that were often the décor of necessity in some slums.
Barry looked at the address again. “Hill is in unit one, the building on the right.”
They crossed the street and walked through the courtyard. The front door was solid wood with thick, etched glass in the center. Barry rang the bell for Mona Hill’s apartment. Lucy felt eyes on her. She glanced behind her, but didn’t see anyone. All the blinds were closed.
“What can I do for the FBI today?” A voice came out of the speaker.
Barry frowned and glanced at Lucy. Obviously there was a camera, and they must look like federal agents on the surface, though Lucy thought they also could have passed for SAPD detectives.
Barry said, “Mona Hill?”
“Yes?”
“Agents Crawford and Kincaid with the FBI. We have a few questions. It won’t take long.”
“I don’t care to speak to the FBI.”
“You’re not in any trouble, we just—”
“I know I’m not in any trouble, sugar,” Mona said.
“Ma’am, this is an official federal investigation, and if you don’t talk to us here, we’ll need to bring you in for questioning.”
“Really?” Mona said. “After you just told me I’m not in any trouble?” She laughed. The speaker made her voice sound tinny.
Barry was tense and muttered something under his breath that Lucy couldn’t make out.
Lucy said, “Ms. Hill, you know how this works. We can do this dance indefinitely, but in the end, you’ll either talk to us here, or talk to us at FBI headquarters.”
“That’s not how it works in my world.”
“Or Agent Crawford and I can make your life miserable. Follow your employees—for lack of a better word—when they go out to work. Arrest them, arrest their clients, cause you a few sleepless nights. Indefinitely. That’s my idea of fun.”
“You must not have much of a life, Agent Kincaid.” Her words were meant to be insulting, but her tone had changed from playful to all business. “I would then sue you for harassment.”
“That would cost you time and money before you could get us off your case. Considering evidence that you have information pertinent to our investigation is pretty damn good, we’ll get a warrant and compel you to talk. Or you can talk to us now.”
Silence. Lucy held her breath, kept her expression blank and her chin up. She felt Mona Hill watching them, though Lucy resisted looking around for the camera.
“Good luck getting your fucking warrant,” Mona said.
“Thank you for your time,” Lucy said. “We’ll just wait here and speak to your employees until the warrant comes through.”
Barry opened his mouth, then didn’t say anything.
The door buzzed and Lucy pushed it open before Mona changed her mind.
“Ballsy,” Barry said under his breath.
Lucy didn’t respond—couldn’t respond—because her heart was pounding. There was something about Mona’s tone that had her on edge.