CHAPTER THREE
The Richmond field office looked and felt the same as it had for the past decade, though Kate had only visited twice since her official retirement.
The security checkpoint at the entrance was the same, as was the elevator that moved too slowly, as were the hallways with their neutral carpeting and generic artwork on the walls.
Everything was familiar in that institutional way that made it feel both welcoming and slightly impersonal.
Kate signed in at the front desk and took the visitor badge the receptionist offered.
She'd been here so many times over the years that the building felt like a second home, but the badge reminded her that she was technically a guest now—a consultant who came and went rather than someone who belonged to the daily operations.
DeMarco's office was on the fourth floor, at the end of a corridor that housed the senior supervisory staff.
Kate had been inside once before, shortly after DeMarco's promotion, but she still paused at the doorway to take it in.
The space was larger than she'd remembered, with windows that actually opened and furniture that looked like it had been selected rather than assigned.
DeMarco had added personal touches over the past months: framed commendations on one wall, a small bookshelf with professional publications and a few novels, a plant on the windowsill that appeared to be thriving.
DeMarco stood when Kate entered, coming around from behind her desk with a genuine smile.
She wore a charcoal suit that looked professionally tailored, her dark hair pulled back in a way that managed to be both polished and practical.
The transformation from field agent to supervisory role had suited her.
She carried herself with a confidence that went beyond what Kate remembered from their years working together, an authority that seemed natural rather than forced.
With DeMarco there had been no nervous period at the start.
She’d stepped right into the role, and she’d filled it well.
"Kate, thanks for coming in," DeMarco said, gesturing to the chairs arranged in front of her desk. "Can I get you coffee or anything?"
"I'm good, thanks." Kate settled into one of the chairs, noting how much more comfortable it was than standard government issue. "This office really does fit you. I know I said that last time, but it's even more true now that you've had time to make it your own."
"It's still weird sometimes," DeMarco admitted, returning to her own chair. "I spent so many years thinking about getting out in the field that sitting behind a desk felt wrong at first. But I'm getting used to it."
"How's the team?"
"Solid, mostly. We've got a good mix of experience levels, and the case load has been manageable." DeMarco paused, her expression shifting slightly. "Though that's actually part of why I asked you to come in, like I said yesterday."
Kate took a seat and nodded. "Ah yes, the mentor role," she said with a joking tone. “What young, nubile minds would you have me shape?”
DeMarco laughed as she reclaimed her own seat behind the desk.
“Her name is Erica Sloane. She transferred in from Chicago about three weeks ago.
" DeMarco pulled up something on her computer, scrolling briefly before looking back at Kate.
"Her file is impressive on paper. Four years with the Bureau, solid arrest record, good evaluations from her supervisors in Chicago.
But there's more to the story than what's written down. "
"There usually is."
"Sloane spent fourteen months undercover as part of an operation targeting an organized crime ring in Chicago.
It was the kind of deep cover where you basically become someone else, cut off from your regular life and support systems." DeMarco leaned back in her chair.
"She did excellent work. The operation was a success, they dismantled the organization, and she came out without blowing her cover.
By all accounts, she should be getting promoted and collecting commendations. "
Kate could already sense where this was heading. "But she's struggling now."
"She's struggling with everything that comes after.
The transition back to regular agent work, and following standard procedures.
She finds it hard to work within the chain of command.
" DeMarco's tone was careful, choosing her words with precision.
"When you're undercover that long, you learn to trust your instincts above everything else.
You make decisions in the moment because you don't have backup or protocol to fall back on. That's how you survive."
"And now she's expected to work like a regular agent."
"Right. And she can't seem to make the adjustment.
" DeMarco pulled up another file, though she didn't turn the screen to show Kate.
"She's been here three weeks and I've already had to have two conversations with her about procedure.
Last week she followed up on a lead without clearing it with her supervising agent first. The week before that, she made contact with a witness against direct instructions to wait for backup. "
Kate thought about her own career, the times she'd bent rules or pushed boundaries in pursuit of an investigation. But she'd also learned when to hold back, when procedure existed for good reasons beyond bureaucratic convenience. "What does she say when you talk to her about it?"
"She apologizes and agrees that she should have followed protocol.
And she seems sincere. But then she does the same thing the next time a situation comes up.
" DeMarco closed the file on her computer.
"She's not being defiant or deliberately insubordinate.
I think she genuinely doesn't see the problem.
Her instincts are good, Kate. Really good.
But she's trusting them over methodology, and that's going to get her or someone else hurt eventually. "
"And you think I can help with that."
"I think you might be able to reach her in a way I can't." DeMarco's expression was earnest. "You've spent three decades balancing instinct and procedure.
You know when to follow the rules and when to break them, and more importantly, you know how to make that calculation in real time.
I can't teach her that because I'm her supervisor.
Anything I say sounds like criticism or discipline. "
Kate understood the logic, but she also felt the weight of what DeMarco was asking.
Taking on a mentorship role meant investing time and energy, becoming responsible for someone else's development.
She'd finally found a comfortable rhythm in her semi-retirement, working cases remotely and spending time with her family.
Adding a struggling agent to that balance felt like opening a door she'd deliberately closed.
"I don't know if I'm the right person for this," Kate said carefully. "I'm not supervising anyone anymore. I consult on cases from my laptop and try to wrap things up before dinner every night. That's a pretty far cry from active mentorship."
"Which is exactly why you might be able to help her.
" DeMarco leaned forward. "You've made the transition out of field work…
in two different phases. You've found a way to use your experience without being in the thick of investigations every day.
Sloane needs to see that there's a middle ground between following every rule and trusting only her gut. "
Kate looked past DeMarco to the windows beyond, seeing the parking lot four floors below and the city stretching out in the distance.
She thought about the memoir project she'd been working on, dredging up old cases and old instincts.
She thought about the peace she'd found over the past six months, the stability that had seemed impossible after everything with Diana Vance.
Taking on this responsibility meant potentially disrupting that peace. It meant engaging with active investigations again, even if only peripherally. It meant caring about someone else's career trajectory and professional development.
But she also remembered what it felt like to be a young agent, trying to find her footing in a system that didn't always make sense.
She remembered partners who'd taken the time to explain things to her, supervisors who'd mentored her through difficult transitions.
Maybe she owed it to someone else to do the same.
"I'll meet with her," Kate said finally. "I mean, I can at least talk to her, to see if there's anything I can offer. But I'm not promising anything beyond that. If it doesn't work or if she doesn't legitimately want the help, I'm not going to push it."
"That's all I'm asking," DeMarco said with a visible look of relief on her face. "Just give her a chance to talk to someone who's been where she is. Maybe it'll help, maybe it won't. But at least we'll know we tried."
"When did you want to set this up?"
"She's finishing up a training session this afternoon,” DeMarco said, “but she should be free around two. Could you stick around until then?"
Kate thought about her schedule for the day. She had case notes to review for Portland. It was a good thing she’d thought to bring her laptop; she could look over the case files and notes while she waited. "I can do that."
"Thank you, Kate. I really appreciate this."
They talked for a few more minutes about other cases, catching up on investigations Kate had consulted on recently.
But beneath the professional conversation, Kate felt the familiar pull of active duty, the sense that she was being drawn back into a world she'd thought she'd left behind even if it was to mentor someone.
She just wasn't sure yet whether that was something to welcome or resist.