Chapter 15
Chapter
Fifteen
brEWSTER
By the time the food arrived, the house had settled into its nighttime configuration—lights dimmed, perimeter checks logged, agents rotating down to skeleton staffing. Predictable. Controlled.
Necessary.
Mallory hadn’t come out of her room. I hadn’t expected her to. She’d asked for silence, and silence, once offered, was something you respected or you lost the privilege of being useful.
I was clearing the plates when Flint appeared in the kitchen doorway. He didn’t knock or clear his throat. He just stared at me. That told me what kind of conversation he thought this was going to be.
“Walk with me,” he said.
Not a request.
I set the plate down carefully. No rush. No resistance. “Where?”
“Anywhere she can’t hear us that doesn’t involve leaving her in this house alone.”
That narrowed the field.
We moved down the hall toward the rear office—one of the few rooms without shared ventilation. Flint closed the door behind us and leaned back against it, arms crossed, jaw tight.
He looked like a man who’d come in to fight. It was a reminder that Carter was not just an executive, but had cut his teeth in the field as a journalist. Like Mallory, he had walked right into danger to get the story.
Clearly, he was ready to throw himself at me or maybe between her and me. Either way, I kept my arms loose and my posture relaxed
“You let her go on air,” he said.
I didn’t correct the framing. “She went on air.”
His eyes sharpened. “You’re splitting hairs.”
“No,” I replied evenly. Like Mallory, he might need to vent some of his temper but one of us needed to remain rational. “You are.”
Silence stretched. A vein throbbing in his forehead, Flint broke it first. “You’re not her handler.”
“No.” Maintaining a mild tone helped present my neutrality in the situation.
“You’re not her editor.”
An amusing distinction. I let it go. “Also correct.”
“And, cards on the table,” Flint said as his eyes narrowed. “You’re not her boss.”
That one carried weight. I let it land, giving him the courtesy of delivering the blow. “If we’re discussing the facts, then we should remember that neither are you.”
That did it.
He pushed off the door. “That’s bullshit and you know it. I’m responsible for her safety.”
“You’re responsible for risk mitigation for the network and the news program,” I said, very well aware of his job as news director. “Those aren’t the same thing.”
“She’s under threat.”
“She’s also in protective custody.” Maintaining detachment here was key. Flint’s knuckles whitened each time he curled his fingers. The vein in his forehead continued to throb. His nostrils flared.
He was angry. It wouldn’t take much to push him.
Flint’s jaw worked. “You’re enjoying this.” He almost spit the words out like he couldn’t quite veil his disdain.
I met the searing anger in his gaze. Held it. One beat. Two beats. Not rushing. Not reacting. “No.”
He released a scoff of absolute disgust. “Who are you lying to, Brewster? Because you aren’t fooling me.”
“I don’t see where this discussion is going to work out for either of us,” I said, not abandoning the mild tone. I could play this another way, but right now, de-escalation seemed to offer the better of two possible outcomes.
“You want to keep playing just the investigator card and a lack of skin in the game for Mal, you go right ahead. Pretty sure you’re not fooling her any more than you are me. But this bullshit tonight—you dangled her out there like bait.”
“A bit hyperbolic, don’t you think?” I said, folding my arms now and leaning back against the desk.
Not answering his aggression with any of my own.
“She knows the subject of her story very well, she’s also intimately—” Yes, I could have chosen a different word, I didn’t.
Redirecting Carter’s attention was necessary, “—aware of the unsub’s attention. ”
“You taking advantage of that fact to engage him isn’t hyperbolic.”
I shrugged. “She saw an opening. She also has good instincts or none of us would be here right now.”
“You’re a prick, Brewster. You’re also working really hard to prove that bullshit line and it’s not working.”
“It’s not bullshit.”
“Right. You could have stopped her. You could have made her wait. You could have workshopped what she said and how she said it with me and others from the network to maximize impact while also protecting her.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “I could have.”
"Instead, you merrily grabbed her hand and skipped off to the station without anyone else being aware.”
“We drove,” I corrected, and he rewarded me with a thin-lipped smile. “But also, yes.”
“Why?” he demanded.
Because this was the moment. The one where people usually lied. I could lie, there were easily a half-dozen things I could say that would paper over the cracks this dispute revealed and could widen.
“Stopping her would have told the unsub she’s not in control of the story,” I told him bluntly. “It would have shown her as a pawn, instead of a player.”
Shock had Flint’s jaw dropping slowly as he gaped at me. “You’re insane. You think fielding her as an opponent to a killer is a plan?”
“No,” I said calmly. “I think pretending she isn’t already in the fight is dangerous.”
“You’re not just relying on semantics,” he snapped. “You’re gambling with her life.”
“Everything about this case is a gamble,” I replied. The sooner Carter got on board, the better. Mallory’s information and her connection was the first real break we’d gotten on this case. I wasn’t going to risk losing it. “The difference is whether she’s aware and willing to play.”
He laughed once—sharp, incredulous. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I didn’t,” I reminded him. “She did.” If I had to repeat it more than once to make my point, then I would.
His eyes narrowed and he began to circle the room, slowly, like he was testing angles. “You talk about her like you’re inside her head,” he said. “Like you know what she’d accept and what she wouldn’t.”
“I observe patterns,” I said with a shrug. “It’s part of my job.”
“Convenient.” Skepticism darkened the underside of the word.
“Carter,” I said, blowing out a breath and shifting tactics. I didn’t like the guy and I didn’t have to. He could be a real problem. Yet, he could also be a true asset. I needed him, if not on my side, to at least remain neutral.
He stopped in front of me. Close enough now that this was no longer a theoretical fight. Flint Carter wanted to throw a punch. But he was still analyzing the situation enough to guard his temper.
Useful.
“What would you have done?” I set it out in front of him. “Knowing her as you do. Knowing how she thinks. How she works. Understanding her very real desire to stay in control of this story… what would you have done?”
Flint didn’t answer right away.
That was answer enough.
His jaw tightened, eyes flicking once toward the door before settling back on me. “I would’ve slowed her down,” he said finally. “I would’ve bought us time. Worked through the story, the pros, the cons… made sure we weren’t reacting to him on his schedule.”
“Because that makes you feel useful,” I said quietly, pointing out the obvious.
“It’s not about me.” His head snapped up. “I would have gained us time because I want to keep her alive.”
“Whether you like it or not,” I said slowly. “Those aren’t mutually exclusive, particularly when you aren’t being honest about what scares you more.”
His expression shuttered and his eyes went cool as he took another step closer. “Careful.”
“Or what?” I asked. No challenge. Just curiosity. “You’ll accuse me of crossing a line you’re already standing on?”
His laugh was humorless. “You think this is about control?”
“I think,” I said, evenly, “that you want her safe because you want her.”
His nostrils flared. “Don’t.”
“I also think you won’t forgive yourself if something happens to her, whether it’s your fault or not.”
His jaw tightened all over again and I could almost hear the way his teeth ground together.
“This isn’t about managing risk to her. It’s about staying close.
You don’t want her out of your sight or control.
You want to be the one she leans on and the one who can rein her in.
” Every statement landed, and I found keeping my tone neutral was damn near impossible.
Thankfully, I had practice. “She’s a beautiful woman.
Intelligent. Bold as brass. Sexy as hell.
Absolutely comfortable in her own femininity. It’s a seductive package.”
“God, you’re a son of a bitch.”
I chuckled. “You are not the first person to call me that.
“You’re also nowhere near as unbiased as you’d like to pretend. Maybe Mallory is too close, but I have seen how you watch her.”
I’d been expecting the accusation, so I just repeated my earlier shrug. “I have skin in this game on multiple fronts.” Obsession didn’t just apply to the Unsub. There was a reason I was good at my job. “But I’m not making the mistake of letting my attachments cloud my judgment.”
Flint went completely still. Not explosive. Not defensive. Just—nothing. For a moment, I didn’t even think he was breathing. That was how I knew I’d hit it.
“You want cards on the table. Then here it is. You care about her,” I said.
“Not abstractly. Not just professionally. You care in a way that makes this intensely personal for you. I don’t think you’re lovers yet, but you definitely want to be.
If you were before, then I’d hazard she cut you off. Too much conflict—”
“My level of interest in her personally and professionally doesn’t make me compromised.”
“You’re invested, Carter,” I countered. “I don’t work for the network or a competing outlet. I don’t care if you fuck like bunnies every Thursday during happy hour. I’m not going to leak it or report it.”
He stared at me for a long beat, lip curled faintly then he shook his head. “You don’t get to judge from the outside, especially after knowing us less than a handful of days.”