He didn’t know why he’d even bothered. Price’s eyes weren’t exactly accusing, more appraising, almost compassionate, but he’d felt them bore into him. That’s how they would all be. Humoring him, but watching closely to see he didn’t botch anything. Screw it, he thought. He’d rather have the judgment.
But his feet didn’t follow his brain. He didn’t leave. He got his soda, and for reasons he would never be able to understand, he went back into the squad room, sat at the nearest desk, and waited for Judgment Day.
23
Taylor sat in the newly vacant chair, fidgeting with her hair. “Price, who the hell was that?”
“That, my dear, was one of the most talented profilers the FBI has ever seen. The man’s a legend, or was. MD from Johns Hopkins, double doctorates in psychology and criminology, a law degree, the best close rate in the business. There are rumors that he’s psychic, if you like to believe that crap. But our good doctor has fallen on some hard times.”
“That’s an understatement. He looks like he’s been out trolling Dickerson Road.”
Price raised his eyebrows and sighed. “Yeah, well, as far as I know, he has been.”
“Then what in the world is he doing here? He doesn’t look like he could read a full file without landing face-first in it.”
“He had a bad experience a few months ago. Pulled himself out of the field, then out of the Bureau altogether. He’s been hermiting down here in Nashville for months. His boss was giving him some space, but thinks it’s time for him to get his feet wet again.”
Taylor was already shaking her head. “Not on my case. I don’t need some middle-aged drunkard trailing around with us, getting in the way or stopping off for a drink while we do the work.”
Price steepled his hands in front of him, elbows on the desk. “I understand your reservations, I do. But this is a special favor for an old friend. Baldwin’s a good cop, and despite his current appearance, I can assure you he won’t be a hindrance.”
“You can assure me, huh? I’m not sure this is such a great idea, boss. Why doesn’t he just go on back to Quantico and bury himself there?”
“He won’t. They’ve been begging him for a while. He’s done nothing but shut them out. Garrett Woods—my friend, his boss—thinks it’s imperative he gets back on the horse, and he thinks doing it here as a consultant would be the best way to get him out of his funk.”
“Funk? I’d be more inclined to label it clinical depression.”
“You may be right. And if that’s the case, working can only do him good. We’re throwing him a lifeline here, Taylor. Don’t think he doesn’t know it. He may be a wreck, but he still has a bit of pride left. Give him the files and let him look them over. Encourage his ideas. I don’t want you babysitting. We can toss him the life preserver, but if he won’t hold on, it’s not our fault. Got it?”
She huffed out a sigh in silent protest. “Got it.” She grew quiet for a moment. “This doesn’t have anything to do with the Martin case, does it? Oversight until the rest of them are on trial?”
Price looked at her in surprise. “No. Why would you think that?”
“I just didn’t want there to be any confusion. In the squad, I mean.”
Price gave her a gentle smile. “I understand. No, we can’t have it look like you’re being undermined in any way. Don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure everyone knows that this is a deal for me. No one will think he’s being brought on to watch your back.”
She waved the comments away, embarrassed to have even brought it up. One day, she’d stop thinking everyone, even those who’d been her biggest supporters, like Price, was holding the shooting against her.
“I was just asking. Forget I mentioned it.”
“Taylor, I know things aren’t easy for you right now. Just be secure in the knowledge you did the right thing. I wouldn’t have you on my team if I didn’t think you had.”
Taylor blushed. It was amazing how Price could read her mind.
“Back to Baldwin—what is the problem that’s driven him into this state?” she asked.
Price looked around the tiny office, trying to make a decision. Finally, he said, “Look, Taylor, I think that’s going to be his story to tell you. He may or he may not, so I wouldn’t push it.”
“What about the boys? What am I supposed to tell them about this?”
“That we are honored to have one of the FBI’s best on our side.”
“Oh, come on, Price. You really want me to pretend in front of them? They’ll pick it up quick enough that the guy’s on the edge. They’re cops—they’ve seen it before.”
“Yeah, well, give them some credit. They’ve got softer hearts than you.”
She forced out a smile. “Gee, thanks. Nicest compliment I’ll get all week. Cold, heartless bitch, that’s me.”
“I can’t imagine anything further from the truth.”
“All right, I’ll give this a shot. But I’m not promising anything.”
“Good girl. I appreciate it.”
“Sexist.” She grinned at her boss, then left the office, wondering what had driven John Baldwin to her doorstep.
And what, exactly, he had been told about her.
24