Zoe nodded, repeating the samepattern she had seen the doctor perform. One, two, three, four, stop. “I willmake an appointment this week.”
Dr. Monk hesitated, biting herbottom lip. She tapped a pen against the skin there, the scrip in her hand, notyet filled out. “How much are you drinking?” she asked.
Zoe shrugged again. “Until thenumbers get quiet.”
Zoe watched the circumference ofDr. Monk’s eyes increase in size, the skin lifting up with her eyelids, theangles of the crow’s feet just visible at the corners of her eyes changing. “Allright.” She filled out the scrip with a quick flourish of her pen, then walkedaround her desk to rummage in a drawer. “Now, I do want you to get thisprescription filled, but in the meantime, I think it’s important that you startto manage this now. This will tide you over until then.”
She came up with a sheet of tabsin one hand, the silver foil across the top catching the light from the largewindows. She stretched out her hand, holding it toward Zoe, and Zoe took itmechanically.
“Start taking them tonight,” Dr.Monk continued. “One with every mealtime—morning, afternoon, and night. Makesure you take them with food. And no more alcohol, okay? These should make thenumbers quiet as well. Don’t mix alcohol with them. Is that all right?”
Zoe nodded. “I will start to takethem tonight,” she said.
Dr. Monk took a hesitant breath. “Whatare you doing now? Do you have time for a session?”
“I am going to work,” Zoe said.
“You’re back on duty?” Dr. Monksounded alarmed.
“No. My suspension ended yesterdaybut I did not go in.” Zoe took a breath. “I have to talk to the Special Agentin Charge.”
Dr. Monk nodded. “All right. Go dothat. But I want to see you as soon as possible.”
“I understand.” Zoe headed for thedoor, the blister pack still firmly clutched in her hand. She didn’t dare lookback at Dr. Monk as she left. The numbers were crawling over her face likeants, and Dr. Monk couldn’t even feel that they were there.
Zoe stopped in the car for amoment, grabbing a bottle of water from the side compartment and swigging oneof the pills down. She couldn’t wait. She needed their help now, if she wasgoing to make it through a conversation with Maitland.
***
The J. Edgar Hoover Building wasreassuringly squat and geometric, all straight lines in dull gray concrete. Zoeenjoyed that, and the way that it was laid out: symmetrically, with repeateddesigns on each floor, so that you could always guess where you were going.That was a small comfort. While she waited for the pill to work on the numbers,at least she could deal with some that weren’t quite as distracting.
She expected to wait a while, butwhen she knocked three times on the door that was marked with SAIC Leo Maitland’sname, he called out the command to enter immediately.
Zoe had no time to be nervous asshe reached for the door handle and turned it, stepping forward. That wasbetter, she thought. She was used to standing in the corridor outside with atwitchy anxiety, wondering what she was going to get disciplined for this time,but now she could simply walk in and let the conversation begin.
“Agent Prime.” Maitland sat upwith some surprise, laying the paperwork he had been looking over down on hisdesk and peering at her. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”
Zoe nodded, since she didn’t knowwhat else to say to that. “I looked over the case file.”
“And?” Maitland placed his handson the desk in front of himself, one folded neatly over the other, expectant.Zoe looked down at them for a moment and saw all the intersecting angles, andwrenched her gaze away.
“I was curious,” she said. “It isnot that I am accepting the case. I just wanted to know why you gave me thisfile.”
Maitland stared at her for a longmoment, his expression unreadable beneath the angles of his nose andcheekbones, and how they intersected with the lines of his skull against theline of his brow. “You’ve… always been the best, with this particular type ofcase,” he began, his voice gruff yet quiet. “Don’t think that I haven’t noticedyour ability to deal with cases that aren’t the usual run of the mill serialkiller. You’re good when things get strange. When we need to see things in away that doesn’t conform to the box. Intelligent killers. People who think indifferent ways.”
Zoe thought that over. It wastrue, what he said. She just couldn’t decide whether she liked it. whether hewas calling her odd. “I have worked on a number of cases like this,” sheconceded, which wasn’t the same as admitting to anything or saying that shewould take the case.
“I don’t want to push you, Agent,”Maitland said. “If you return to work and you’re not ready, things could gobad. For both of us. But I also think I know you well enough to see that you’rebest when you have a puzzle in front of you to work on. I’ll be frank. I wantyou on this case. In fact, I don’t trust anyone else to get it done the sameway that you will.”
Zoe waited, her thoughts tumblingover one another. It was hard enough to hear them under the numbers telling herthe decibels and word length and syllables and the dimensions of the desk andeverything on it, and when she did hear them, she wasn’t sure. It would be goodto sink her teeth into something new, something that stopped the same oldthings from rattling around inside her skull. The numbers could be put to usefor a change, like she did before, putting them to work on suspects and entrypoints and all of the rest.
It would be good to make adifference. Maybe save
