She relented. “I want some time to myself right now. Surely someone with a PhD in psychology can understand that.”
He considered her a long moment before speaking. “I know it makes me a total asshole to say this, but I can’t give you that. We need you on the team. Now. Buxton thinks you’re compromised. No agent has ever been shown being tortured and then gone out to investigate their torturer.” He dragged a hand through his hair in what she was coming to understand as his characteristic sign of frustration. “Shit, Nina, I’ve been in the Bureau longer than Buxton, and I’ve never seen anything like this. I can’t blame him for sidelining you, but I believe he’s wrong.”
“What did he say?”
“That you’re no longer in a position to interview witnesses, suspects, or anyone else.” He crossed his arms. “You’ll assist the investigation from your desk back at the Washington field office. No more field work.”
Buxton had made good on his threat to bench anyone on the team who proved to be more of a liability than an asset to the investigation. They stood in the middle of the forest, eyes locked. She recalled their conversation on the return flight from Boston to DC. Wade had been the one Buxton had targeted yesterday, and she’d argued to keep him on the team because he was the only other person in the Bureau who wanted to go after the unsub as much as she did.
Now Wade had used the same reasoning on her. And it was true. He had endured the public shaming and humiliation she was about to face. The unsub had irrevocably damaged both of them.
Wade was not the enemy, but her outburst had damaged the tenuous alliance forged between them aboard the jet. She continued to regard him. He hadn’t stalked off when she insulted him. Hadn’t retaliated with a verbal assault of his own. She’d done her best to get rid of him, yet here he stood, looking at her with those inscrutable gray eyes.
“Chandra Brown wasn’t the only bad call I made two years ago,” he said in a soft voice. “I was also wrong about you, and Buxton is making the same mistake now.”
She asked the question that had burned in her mind since the day Shawna told her the truth about her hiring. “Why did you red-stamp my psych eval?”
He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve seen so much trauma in my career. Atrocities committed by the worst humanity has to offer. I’ve delved deep into the minds of the most depraved predators. People who hunt children.” His voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. “You do that long enough, and the darkness in their souls gets smeared all over yours.”
Now that he’d started, he seemed to want to get it all out. She didn’t interrupt, absorbing his words, trying to see herself from his perspective.
“I read your file in preparation for your psych eval,” he said. “The applicant investigator included the case report from your abduction as well as police photographs and ER reports documenting the abuse you suffered in the system before you were kidnapped.” His eyes bored into hers. “And how you came to get those scars on your back.” He extended a hand as if to touch her shoulder, seemed to think better of it, and dropped his arm back to his side. “And the circumstances that forced you to run away from the group home.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t reconcile that with the person I saw before me in the interview room. I was hard on you. I tried to burrow down to see what was beneath that professional exterior.”
“You thought I was a ticking time bomb who might explode under the right kind of pressure?”
“I’m sorry, Nina,” he said. “I realize now there was something I failed to consider. A trait we psychologists don’t have the luxury to study as much as we do disorders, neuroses, and coping mechanisms. You have more of it than anyone I have ever personally examined.” He looked at her as if she were a rare specimen. “Resilience.”
“Resilience,” she said, tasting the word.
“Human beings are capable of unfathomable cruelty and immense strength. You have not only survived—you have thrived.” His voice grew thick. “I’ve followed your career since you came on. I’ll admit that I was waiting for you to snap. Go off the rails. I’m not proud that a small part of me wanted vindication. Instead, you proved me wrong. You’ve been an asset to the Bureau.”
She glanced down, uncomfortable with accolades. Wade wasn’t done yet, it seemed.
“And you’ve been invaluable to this investigation,” he went on. “You were the one who spotted the first message on the dumpster in that alley in DC. You figured out the Boston clue before anyone else, and you could have called Buxton to take the credit, but you called me first. That’s what a partner does. You stuck up for me when Buxton wanted to boot me off the case on the plane yesterday. Now it’s my turn to do the same for you.”
She raised her head to meet his gaze. He had confronted her with a challenge. Could she face the monster as the world watched, knowing everyone had seen her humiliation and pain? More importantly, could she face herself if she didn’t?
Chapter 28
Nina pushed through the door to the task force area, Wade on her heels as she strode inside the expansive room. A hive of activity greeted her. Agents clustered in groups, bending over spreadsheets, turning pages in file folders, and tapping on keyboards. She glanced up and sucked in a breath. The oversize monitor on the far wall’s screen was split into four quadrants, each with a different freeze frame from the video. One was an image of the Cipher, his large figure cloaked except for a gloved hand clutching a lit cigarette. Another was a close-up of the girl’s left wrist, secured to the metal corner pole with nylon rope.
She halted, transfixed. First, one agent noticed her and elbowed the person next to him. That agent nudged another. Gradually, silence spread through the room like a virus, silencing all discussion, bringing all work to a halt.
Buxton was on his cell phone in the corner. As soon as he saw her, he muttered something into the phone and disconnected. Sliding the device into a clip on his belt, he stepped toward her. “My office.”
She followed him down the corridor, Wade’s steady footfalls behind her.
Buxton walked past the admin assistant, who quickly looked down at her keyboard as Nina walked by.
She’d better get used to that kind of reaction.
“Come in and close the door,” Buxton said, then frowned as he looked over her shoulder. “I want to speak to Agent Guerrera alone.”
She turned to see not only Wade but also Breck and Kent following her into the temporary executive office.
“We’re with her,” Kent said.
Breck nodded.
Buxton raised a questioning brow at Nina.
“I’d like them to stay,” she said.
“Fine.” Buxton treaded to the same table where they had watched the video. They each took a seat.
He addressed Nina. “Agent Guerrera, as you’ve probably guessed, I read your case file before taking you on a temp assignment in the BAU. I had to be aware of everything that happened in your background regarding the Cipher.” He drew in a deep breath. “What I read in that file was . . . disturbing, to say the least. What you have gone through, what you have suffered, no one should have to deal with, much less a sixteen-year-old girl.”