CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Three weeks later

Faith sat at attention and hoped she didn't look too stiff. In her eleven years with the FBI, she had seen Deputy Director Smythe only once before, and that was in passing when he showed up to meet with the Boss. She'd never seen Chief Lasseter of the Bureau's K9 Division. She was a broad-chested woman with close-cropped brown hair and a face as impassive and unreadable as a sheet of paper.

The Boss was easier to read only because she'd worked with him for over a decade. He wore his usual stony scowl, but a hint of softness around the eyes and the slightest touch of a slump in his shoulders betrayed his exhaustion. He was tired of fighting on Faith's behalf. He had done what he could to rescue her career, but he wouldn't protest whatever decision this board arrived at.

It would be so much easier if Michael or Turk were here. She felt very vulnerable and alone, sitting by herself.

But she would stay strong, and she would stay in control. She wouldn't make any more trouble for herself. She was terrified to hear what they had to say, but she had promised herself that whatever happened, she would face the future with dignity and strength.

Smythe spoke first. "Before we address your K9's future, let's talk about your future. I understand you've made it clear to SAC Monroe that you will decline any offer of a promotion to ASAC. Have you had a chance to reconsider your position?"

"I have, sir," she replied, "and my decision remains the same. I will not accept a promotion to ASAC."

Smythe leaned back in his seat and tapped his pen on the desk twice. "May I ask why?"

She took a deep breath. "I feel I can be of more help to the Bureau and to my fellow countrymen as a field agent. The job of ASAC is an administrative position."

"It's a leadership position as well," Smythe added. "Do you not feel that your expertise would be invaluable as an example to less experienced field agents?"

"I do, sir," she admitted, "but I don't feel I would execute the duties of that position well. Competently, perhaps, but not well. I am good at solving cases. I'm good at finding criminals. I'm good at bringing them to justice. I'm not good at teaching. I'm not good at managing. And… frankly, sir, I'm not good at leading outside of the boundaries of a single investigation."

"You would learn all of those skills. We wouldn't expect you to be an expert right away any more than we expected you to be an expert detective when you first started as a field agent."

"Yes, sir," she replied. "But I would be deeply unfulfilled in that role."

The Boss lowered his head. Lasseter raised an eyebrow. Smythe remained stoic. After a moment, he said, "I have to say, Miss Bold. It's highly unusual for me to hear a field agent tell me that she doesn't want to be promoted. Most field agents consider ASAC and eventually SAC the pinnacle of their career."

"I understand that, sir," she said, "and I thank you very much for your consideration. I apologize as well for sounding ungrateful. Believe me, I am humbled to know that you would think so highly of me. But… well, to be blunt, sir, I can't sit behind a desk. I'm not the type of person who can file paperwork, manage schedules, and assign cases when I have the ability to be out there solving a case. I'm sure SAC Monroe has informed you of my past struggles with remaining away from cases."

The Boss sighed audibly at that. The corners of Smythe's mouth turned up slightly. "Yes. He has kept me apprised."

He sighed and tapped his pen on the desk again. "The issue, Miss Bold, is that you have become the subject of an uncomfortable amount of media attention."

Faith pressed her lips together. "Yes, sir."

"Now, I want to be clear. We don't blame you for that. You are receiving media attention because you are an exceptional field agent who is responsible for apprehending some of the most vicious serial killers this nation has ever seen."

"Thank you, sir. I didn't do this work alone, though. My partner, Special Agent Michael Prince, and my K9 unit, Turk, have been and continue to be an invaluable component of my success."

"Yes. But no serial killer has obsessed over them the way Franklin West and this new Messenger Killer have obsessed over you."

Faith barely stifled a flinch at hearing the new killer given a nickname. Damn it. Bullshit like this was what got the media's attention in the first place.

Smythe saw the irritation on her face and misinterpreted it. "Again, we don't blame you for this. But the fact remains that you are a lightning rod for unwanted attention, and that impacts the Bureau's ability to accomplish its mission."

"I believe I can address that, sir."

All three of them looked at her with surprise. The Boss searched her face, probably trying to determine if he should step in and prevent her from saying something foolish or if he should trust her and let her finish.

He chose to trust her.

"How so?" Smythe asked.

She took a deep breath. "I have chosen not to renew my lease at my apartment in Fitler Square. I've found a residence in Allentown, and I will be signing a lease there. I move in three days."

The Boss stared at her in shock. For the first time during this meeting, he spoke. "What? That's an hour away Bold. Twice that in traffic."

"Yes, sir," she agreed. "It will be a difficult commute. But one I can handle. It will also remove me from the hunting grounds of this new killer and away from the lens of the media. My lease in Fitler Square is active for another five months. I will keep this move quiet so the media and the killer don't become aware. I will also change my phone number and my personal email address to avoid contact with the media. In addition, I have discontinued my personal social media accounts. I will be going very low-profile for a while."

She took another breath, then said, "I will also agree not to take any cases in the Philadelphia, Wilmington, Trenton or Allentown areas so that I'm not recognized by local law enforcement."

"This includes the case of the Messenger Killer?" Smythe asked.

Her fingers flexed slightly. "This includes the current open investigation in Philadelphia, yes."

Smythe lifted his eyebrows and looked at The Boss. The Boss shrugged. "I've been keeping her far from home since the West case broke open. I can keep pushing her outside of the area."

Smythe nodded. "Well… in that case, I will approve your continued employment as a field agent."

Faith released a sigh of relief. "Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it. I promise you, I won't do anything to jeopardize my anonymity or the Bureau's need for secrecy."

"I'm sure you won't," he said. "Though I do have to ask. Do you truly feel you don't have the qualities of an ASAC?"

She considered her answer for a moment. "I believe I have the skill set of an ASAC. But the qualities? No. I'm not particularly patient. I'm not willing to step away and let others handle the grunt work. I…" She stopped herself. It wasn't a good idea to admit that she wasn't good at distancing herself emotionally from a case. Instead, she said, "I am a poor teacher. I could check the boxes off of a list of ASAC duties, but I couldn't excel at that job. More importantly, it would be very difficult for my agents to work with me."

"A surprisingly frank self-analysis."

She smiled slightly. "I know it's not the wisest career move to tell you that I'm unpromotable, but I don't want to be dishonest with you. I'm an asset where I am right now. In a different role, I don't believe I would be as much of an asset."

"Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of," Smythe replied. "Your own SAC Monroe has twice turned down an offer for Deputy Director because he feels he's best suited as SAC of a field office."

Faith turned to the Boss in surprise. She'd heard that he was blacklisted from promotion because of a fight with Smythe earlier in his career. The Boss looked decidedly unhappy that Smythe had revealed that tidbit, but he didn't deny it.

"Very well. Then, your future is secured. Now I will turn the conversation over to Chief Lasseter to discuss your K9 unit."

Faith took a steadying breath and fixed Chief Lasseter with what she hoped was a calm expression.

Lasseter shuffled the stack of papers on her desk and reached into her pocket for a pair of reading glasses. "All right. Concerning K9 unit six-four-seven, Turk, German Shepherd male, you're petitioning to have the mandatory retirement requirement waived in his case."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Why is that?"

"He's still an incredibly capable K9," Faith replied. "In my most recent assignment, he helped prevent the escape of a serial killer while defending myself, my partner and an innocent civilian from the killer in question. If you look at his record, you will see that he does so in nearly every single one of my cases."

"Yes, he is as celebrated in the K9 division as you are in the operations division."

Even considering the seriousness of this conversation, that praise caused Faith's heart to glow. She sat up a little straighter and said, "As I told Director Smythe, he is instrumental to my success. He is an incredible asset to me, and without him, I will not be as capable at my job."

"And you don't believe another K9 unit could provide the same benefit?"

"As you said, ma'am, he's as celebrated as I am."

She smiled slightly. "We all assumed it was the handler, not the K9."

"With all due respect, ma'am, you assumed wrong."

Smythe chuckled. The corners of the Boss's mouth turned up. Lasseter's slight smile widened into a grin. "We like to see our handlers attached to their K9s."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"But not too attached."

Faith's smile faded. Her heart began to pound.

"The reason is that, like you, the handlers have difficulty letting go of their K9 units when the time comes. They all believe that their particular unit is capable of performing at an acceptable level in spite of age, and they all insist that they won't be as capable themselves without that particular dog. Frankly, Miss Bold, when we perform objective tests of the older K9s ability, they always fall short. Invariably."

Faith pressed her lips together to keep them from trembling. Over the past week, Turk had undergone a battery of tests to determine his ability to continue working. They hadn't yet shared the details of those tests with Faith. She had a feeling she was about to learn those results now.

"However," Lasseter continued. "Turk has scored exceptionally well."

Faith's heart leaped. "He has?"

"He has. Off the charts in mental aptitude. In the ninety-sixty percentile when it comes to physical strength, agility, durability and stamina. In the ninety-fifth percentile when it comes to empathy and once more off the charts when it comes to obedience and training. In fact, he scored higher in every category than the entire complement of available K9 units. It seems, at least based on these results, that no other K9 really could measure up to him."

Faith was grinning now. "He's the best damned dog in the Bureau, ma'am."

"He is. And in recognition of his and your success, we will allow him to continue working with you. He will be subject to retest every six months, and we reserve the right to enforce his retirement at any time. However, for now, he will remain on active duty and assigned to you."

Faith couldn't hold herself back anymore. She pumped her fist and cheered, much to the chagrin of the Boss and the amusement of Director Smythe. "Thank you so much, ma'am. You don't know what this means to me."

Lasseter smiled. "One day, Special Agent, I'll tell you about Rooster, and you'll believe that I know exactly what this means to you. For now, I will only congratulate you and tell you to continue taking excellent care of your dog."

"I will, ma'am. You have my word." She grinned at the Boss. "Looks like you're stuck with both of us for a while longer, sir."

Smythe and Lasseter both found that hilarious.