Chapter 5 #3
“Not entirely,” I countered. Sure, the man’s corpse hadn’t shocked me, but I still felt something for him and his family. I wasn’t completely callous, after all. “But you’re right. I’ve seen a lot of wounds like that. They don’t faze me.”
“Yet you’re still upset,” SSA Park pointed out, and I sighed again and dropped my bag back to the floor. Hefting myself onto the desk behind me, I gave the agent a calculating look before deciding that if she wanted to keep pushing for the truth then that was what she would get.
“Look,” I said, gripping the edge of the desk with both hands and tapping my index finger against the underside as I considered how to say what I wanted to say. “Your lecture was excellent, and I’m sure that a lot of the students who attended got something out of it.”
“But?” she prompted, and I clenched my jaw.
“But,” I said, looking her in the eye. I owed her that much if I was going to criticize the time and energy she’d spent on coming here.
“The title of the lecture was The FBI’s Approach to Solving Cold Cases.
I was just expecting more about how to solve a cold case rather than covering how cold cases apparently solve themselves. ”
Her brows lifted slightly. “I take it you hit a dead end in a case you’re working?”
That caught me off guard. “How?—?”
“I’ve done enough of these talks to recognize the look,” she said, amused. “Personal connection?”
I hesitated, then nodded.
Silence hung between us for a moment as SSA Park gave me another discerning look.
Anxious at being observed, I tapped the underside of the desk again, frowning.
Whatever SSA Park found in her examination of me must have revealed something about my state of mind because she offered me an understanding smile.
“Come on,” she said, shrugging on her trench coat and turning toward the door before looking back at me. “I saw a coffee shop across the quad, and I have twenty minutes before I have to head out. Let’s go get a coffee and I’ll see if there’s any extra advice I can offer.”
Surprised by the generosity of the offer, I followed Park out of the lecture hall and across the green space between buildings, opening up about the details of the case as we walked.
I’d just finished explaining the basics of my mother’s murder investigation—home invasion gone wrong, alibis for every suspect, a disinterested detective too close to retirement—when we arrived at the campus cafe.
I went quiet then, stepping up to the counter and ordering myself a caramel latte before settling into a chair by one of the massive glass windows.
The agent joined me a moment later, a steaming cup in her hands as she folded herself into the chair across from me.
“Okay, McHale,” Park said after a long moment, leaning forward to set her drink on the table between us as she spoke.
“Time for the hard truths. The lecture I gave focused on how cases get solved because most of the time, there isn’t a lot an investigator can do.
Especially without new evidence. These cases get solved because the right person asks the right question at the right moment and everything clicks into place. ”
“That’s it?” I asked, my voice sharp as I gripped my coffee tighter. “Just… wait until the universe lines up?”
There was no way I was going to sit back and wait or spend my time believing things would eventually just work themselves out.
That was like saying everything I’d been working towards these past five years was pointless unless some random person or event came together to hand me the answer when the time was right.
I wasn’t big on leaving things up to fate. Especially not something as important as this.
“No,” Monica said in that neutral, detached tone, “I think if your mother’s killer is ever caught, it’ll be because they make a mistake—not because you went out and found new evidence.”
“This is my mother we’re talking about. I can’t just wait around for something to happen,” I told her, sending her a look of disgust.
“I know you can’t.” Park looked entirely unaffected by how upset I’d become, and in fact there was a slight smile showing through as she spoke, as if she’d expected me to be upset by her words and was—for whatever godforsaken reason—pleased by it.
“You wouldn’t be sitting here across from me if you could.
But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t give you the reality of the situation, which is that I can tell from a mile away that you’re burning out.
And the last thing you want is to be so burnt out looking for clues that aren’t even there that you miss real evidence when it does arrive.
If you’re at a breaking point, take a break. ”
I sat back and stared at the special agent, who stared right back.
“Take a break. Take a break? That’s it?” I said. “That’s your big FBI wisdom?”
“Scoff all you want,” she replied, “but that’s how the work gets done. When we hit a wall on a case, we step away and work another one for a reason. Sometimes the contrast between cases helps to shake something loose. Sometimes all it takes is just a little momentum.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then stopped as I considered her words. “So you’re saying if I solve one case, I’m more likely to figure something out about another?”
“Something like that.” She smiled faintly, a distant look in her eye.
Silence fell between us and I sipped at my coffee, burning my tongue on the too-hot drink.
Park glanced at her watch and grimaced. “I need to catch my flight. But, Ms. McHale—” she paused until she was certain she had my full attention before sliding her card across the table, “—if you ever decide to apply your instincts somewhere they can make a difference, consider the Bureau. I think you’d be an excellent fit. ”