Zoe opened the door, letting thechain extend fully before she saw that it was SAIC Leo Maitland—her boss. Hewas standing in front of her door with his arms held behind his back and a mildexpression on his face, which was not necessarily a good sign. He was a busyman, and he didn’t take time out to do home visits. Something about that look,and natural trained obedience to her superior, made Zoe push the door backtoward the frame, unhook the chain, and open it fully to meet him face-on.
She regretted not choosing a morecohesive outfit, or brushing her hair this morning, but it was what it was.
“Agent Prime.” Maitland’s voicewas a deep rumble. At six foot three, he had five inches of height on her, andhe used it now to look down on her like a teacher on an errant child.
“Sir,” Zoe said, trying to keepher voice steady. She hadn’t wanted to deal with anything from work. Not whilethe numbers were still everywhere she looked, now measuring the angles inMaitland’s straight military posture, noting that the man’s forty-five-inchchest and fifteen-inch biceps had not at all diminished since she was last inhis office.
Since he had told her to go homeon leave, because she had witnessed her partner’s dead body and then punched aguy like she was never intending to stop.
“I came over from HQ to see youpersonally,” he said. His tone was meaningful. “Do you mind if I come in?”
Zoe looked at him, uncomprehendingfor a moment. What was that tone? Was he mad at her? Amused? Disappointed?What? All she could hear was the sixty-one decibels, the sixteen words, thecadence and rhythm, the flow of syllables. But she stepped aside and gesturedtoward the sofa, and Maitland stepped past her with the air of a man takingcare where he put his feet.
Not because he didn’t want to stepon something important, mind. Because he didn’t want to dirty his shoes.
Maitland took a careful seat onthe sofa as Zoe closed the door and followed him. She hesitated; since therewas no one else who came to visit her here, she’d never seen the need to investin an alternate form of seating. There was just the sofa, which meant she hadto sit beside him—awkwardly inappropriate, and confusing, too, because whichangle should she position her body at? She sat after a moment of hesitation andfinally settled on a forty-five-degree angle: halfway between facing him andstraight ahead.
“Agent Prime,” Maitland saidagain, as if he was speaking very carefully. “What happened yesterday?”
“Yesterday?” Zoe repeated dully.Her mind began to race back. Yesterday? What had she even done? Sat listlesslyin front of the window, turned Dr. Applewhite away again, gone for a walk. Ah.The walk. Had Harry Rose made a complaint?
Maitland shifted his position,changing his angle more toward her. Zoe noted that his dark buzzcut was thesame length as it always was, though there was more gray in it than she hadnoted last time she saw him. “Your suspension was over yesterday. I expectedyou to report for duty.”
“It was yesterday?” Zoe asked,turning over her mental calendar. Yes, she thought, it had been the rightnumber of days. And that was a Wednesday, too, so she guessed it was the rightdate. She had missed it entirely.
“I sent you several emails to thateffect,” Maitland said. His head moved, glancing around the apartment. Zoenoted the angle of his chin and knew what he was looking at: computer, turnedoff; cell phone, dead; landline, unplugged. “I also called you a number oftimes, and when I couldn’t get through, left you numerous voicemails.”
Zoe nodded slowly. On the beat,one, two, three. “I am sorry,” she said, though she didn’t particularly feelit. “I have not really been keeping up with my correspondence lately.”
Maitland sighed. “Look, Zoe, Iknow it’s been a tough couple of months for you,” he said. “I gave you asix-week suspension because I knew you would have to be on leave anyway. It’smandated, when an agent loses their partner. Especially in the fashion that youdid. Have you been seeing the counselor?”
Zoe shook her head slowly. On thebeat, one, two, three. There was no point in lying. He could check the records.He probably already had. She hadn’t seen the point. She had her own shrink. Notthat she’d seen her lately, either.
“Why not?” Maitland asked.
Zoe thought about the answer. Shethought about it for too long. The seconds ticked by, three, four, five, andMaitland got impatient.
“All right, listen to me,” hesaid, prompting Zoe’s eyes to meet his. She tried to focus on his words, not onthe radius of his iris or how it changed when he twisted his head from side toside, the light hitting him differently. “The reason I’m here today is becauseI need to know what your intentions are. You’ve chosen not to return to work.Should I consider this to be your resignation?”
Zoe opened her mouth quickly, sothat he would know she wanted to answer. It wasn’t a hard one to consider. “Yes,”she said, instantly. How could she ever consider going back? How could she walkthrough those halls without her former partner by her side? Before Shelley,everyone there had hated her. Turned their backs on her. Now that Shelley wasgone, it would be even worse.
Maitland nodded slowly. Just likeshe had. On the beat, one, two, three. “All right,” he said. “If you’re sure. I’mgoing to need to see that in writing, though.”
Zoe glanced toward the computerand nodded mutely. She could type something up and send it to him. Get it donetomorrow.
Maitland began to stand, raisinghis huge frame with some care, obviously unwilling to hang around much longer. “Beforeyou do write that letter of resignation, though,” he said, holding out a foldertoward her. Zoe had been so focused on the measurements of that singular iristhat she hadn’t even noticed it sitting on his knee. It was standard-size,brown, with a thin two-millimeter edge of something white poking out. “I thinkmaybe you should take a look at this. It might interest you, and I could useyou on it.”
Zoe eyed it warily,
