Now Captain Warburton was giving her anodd look. “Right. Sounds like you’re a bit of an expert.”
Zoe gave a brief smile, this one perhapsless convincing. “Only a backseat driver. I have a friend who works in thefield. She gives me pointers from time to time. Quite useful, when you aretrying to track down someone with a mental illness.”
“It’s a shame no one spotted it. Hecould have been treated, and all these lives could have been saved. Includinghis own,” Shelley sighed, shaking her head.
“We’ve been gathering statements fromcolleagues, family, and so on,” Captain Warburton said. “It doesn’t seem asthough anyone knew, or even suspected. He kept it well hidden. There were acouple of people at the tattoo parlor who suspected he might be a closetanti-Semite from his reaction to some of the tattoos, but that was all. Theydidn’t even think to mention it when Jasper Franks was getting arrested, whichwas irritating, to say the least.”
“We got him in the end,” Zoe said,putting the journal back into the evidence bag and leaving it on the table. “Thatis all that matters.”
“We’ll be heading out to the airportsoon,” Shelley added. “Any paperwork you need us to sign before we go?”
Captain Warburton steered her toward astack of papers, and Zoe groaned to herself. Paperwork—that was all that wasawaiting them on their return home. Days of it, most likely, and more enforcedtherapy for herself to deal with the ramifications of shooting a suspect dead.She wondered whether telling SAIC Maitland she was already seeing a therapistwould get her out of the mandated sessions, but she knew deep down it wouldnot. Rules were rules. That, after all, was what she liked about being in the FBI:not needing to color outside of the lines.
Even if it did seem that, since she hadbeen partnered up with Shelley, she was coloring outside of the lines of herown previously neat and closed-off life more and more.
***
Zoe sat at the table, trying to composeherself. She remembered Dr. Monk’s words, like a mantra now in her mind. Countyour breaths. Focus on that instead of the other numbers.
She breathed in and out, one, andallowed her eyes to drift up from the tabletop. It was a busy restaurant, fullof people all around her. All of them different ages, heights, weights,ordering quantities and values of food and drink that went past her on loadedtrays. The music played on the piano at the other side of the bar had aslightly unconventional rhythm of six beats per bar, a fact that would normallygrate on her.
In, out, four. Zoe let it allwash over her. She had arrived early on purpose, to try to use the techniquesthat Dr. Monk had taught her. She wanted to be able to do this. She wanted tobe calm and measured, to deal with the information the world was throwing ather rather than being overwhelmed by it. She wanted to be present.
In, out, nine. Her cell buzzed onthe table and she snatched it up, just in case it was John, canceling theirdate after all. No, with relief: it was Shelley, checking in that she wasfeeling all right.
I am fine. I am about to meet John fordinner.
The response came almost immediately.Shelley must have been watching her phone.
Have you thought about what we said onthe plane?
Zoe sighed to herself. Theirconversation on the plane had been a rehashing of old themes: Shelley wonderingaloud why Zoe still wanted to keep the numbers a secret, when they had helpedher to save a life in this case. Zoe had promised that she would think aboutit, reassess how things stood. She had. But even though things seemed to slowlybe changing for the better, she wasn’t quite over the top of the hill yet.
I still want to keep it a secret. Fornow. I am working on what Dr. Monk told me. Maybe if I can keep everythingunder control, I can admit it then.
I’m here for you, Z. If you need help,just ask.
Zoe smiled. Shelley was kind andsupportive to a fault, and she never let Zoe forget that she had a friend. Thatwas something. For a person who had spent her whole life feeling isolated, andmost of it alone, that was really something. With Shelley on her side, perhapsthe future was going to be as bright as she insisted it could be.
“Hey!” John arrived by her side, leaningdown to plant a brief kiss on her forehead. “Am I late?”
“Not at all,” Zoe said. She felt a rushof joy to see him again. In spite of herself, she realized, she was reallybeginning to feel something for John—to look forward to the moments they couldshare together. He brightened her day every time they met. “I was early.”
“How unusual,” John joked, taking hisseat. He was right: Zoe was normally the one to arrive last, delaying as muchas possible so that she did not have to spend time in a busy environment on herown. Things were changing. She wasn’t going to live in fear of her abilitiesanymore. She controlled them. They would no longer be allowed to control her.
“I think I might get a glass of wine,”Zoe said, throwing caution to the wind. Alcohol normally made the numbers feelworse, disorienting and warped, but she could handle that, couldn’t she? Justone glass of wine? She took in the twelve-millimeter dots repeated in subtlelight blue on his dark blue shirt, and breathed in instead of counting them. One.Two.
“I’ll join you.” John grinned. “Have youhad a chance to decide what you want to eat?”
Yes, some time ago; Zoe had studied themenu first, making her choice so that she could then gradually allow herself totake in the rest of the room when she felt settled. “Yes, I am ready to order.”
“Great.” John put his menu aside,clasping his hands together on top of the table as he leaned forward. “So, tellme about the case. Did you get the guy?”
“Yes,” Zoe laughed. “You have not