Page 4 of Whispers in the Night
Harper’s hands curled into fists at her sides. She wanted to scream at him, to explain that it wasn’t that simple, that Michael had made his own choices, that she lived with the guilt every second of every day. But she’d learned that explanations didn’t matter. People had made up their minds.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Enjoy solving your case alone. But when the body count rises—and it will—remember that you had help and turned it down.”
She spun on her heel and stalked toward the exit.
“Agent Sinclair.”
She didn’t stop.
“The FBI is sending a consultant liaison,” Silas called after her. “Someone who apparently thinks we need help. When they arrive, I’ll be sure to tell them your professional opinion isn’t welcome here either.”
Harper froze.
Oh no.
Ohno.
She turned slowly. “When’s the consultant arriving?”
“Later today, apparently. Some hotshot profiler your SAC thinks can solve this.” Silas’s smile was sharp and humorless. “Why? Worried about the competition?”
Harper’s stomach dropped to somewhere around her feet. Ellery, that absolutebastard. He’d played her. Called her aboutthe case, let her go to the scene, knowing full well that she was the consultant he’d already arranged.
“I’m the consultant,” she said flatly.
Silas’s expression went blank. Then understanding dawned, followed immediately by rage. “Like hell you are.”
“Ellery—SAC Ellery—is my former supervisor. He’s the one coordinating FBI assistance.” Harper felt a perverse satisfaction in watching Silas’s face cycle through emotions. “Apparently, someone at your department requested federal help. The feds said yes. And I’m who they sent.”
“No.” Silas shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’ll call Seattle, I’ll call DC, I’ll call the goddamn director if I have to—”
“You requested a profiler with specific experience in ritualistic homicides,” Harper interrupted. “That’s me. I have more expertise in this particular killer than anyone else in the Bureau. So unless you want to explain to your captain why you turned down the best chance at catching this guy because of personal feelings...”
She let the sentence hang.
Silas stared at her with undisguised loathing. A muscle ticked in his jaw. She could practically see him running through scenarios, calculating whether he could find a way out of this.
Finally, he spoke, each word clipped and precise. “If you contaminate my scene, ignore my authority, or make one wrong call that puts anyone at risk, I will have you yanked off this case so fast you’ll get whiplash. Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” Harper said, matching his tone.
“The FBI might have sent you, but this is my investigation. My rules. My jurisdiction. You’re aconsultant. That means you consult. You don’t touch evidence, you don’t interview witnesses without me present, and you sure as hell don’t go rogue.”
“Understood.”
“I mean it, Sinclair.” He moved closer, invading her space the way he had earlier, but this time there was something else in his expression. Something darker. “I know what happened to Michael Ward. I know you made a judgment call that got him killed. That tells me everything I need to know about your decision-making. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t trust you worth a damn.”
The words were designed to wound, and they did. But Harper had spent six months learning how to take emotional hits. She lifted her chin and met his eyes.
“You don’t have to trust me, Detective Kane. You just have to work with me. And lucky for both of us, I’m very good at working with people who hate me.” She smiled without humor. “I’ve had lots of practice lately.”
A long moment passed. The crime scene techs had stopped working, watching the standoff with undisguised interest. The wind whistled through the loading dock, carrying the scent of blood and decay.
Silas broke eye contact first. “Be at the station at oh-eight-hundred. Captain Holloway will want to meet you. We’ll review the case file and establish ground rules.” He paused. “And Sinclair? Next time you show up at my crime scene without authorization, I’ll have you arrested. FBI or not.”
“Looking forward to it,” Harper said sweetly.
She turned and walked away, keeping her spine straight and her stride confident until she reached her SUV. Only when she was inside with the door closed did she let herself sag against the seat.
