'I love you too, Swann," Cooper said. But it didn't sound right and it didn't feel right and Cooper felt an anger growing. He didn't want this woman on his chest, he didn't want her saying she loved him.
He continued to run his fingers through her hair because it felt good even though a rage was building in his throat, and gradually her body relaxed against his. Cooper watched the squirrel and a blue jay that seemed to be scolding it. When the bird finally shut up, Cooper became aware of a sound closer to him. Very softly, as if she knew she shouldn't do it, the woman was crying.
She turned her face to him suddenly, rising off his chest.
"You hurt me," she said. Tears ran down her cheeks.
Cooper's rage was too great to contain any longer-he felt it bursting from his throat into his head so that he was filled with it, his eyes, his ears, his skull filled with rage. I'm going to kill her, Cooper thought. There seemed no other way to quell his anger.
When they returned to the Nashville airport, Becker and Pegeen were met by an airline official who asked them to follow her. The official led them to a door marked personnel only, unlocked the door, and ushered them in, then quietly withdrew, leaving Becker and Pegeen to confront their greeting committee. Hatcher was the first to his feet, all smiles and cordiality, as if he had just happened to run into them by chance.
"John, how good to see you," he said, and then, as if knowing better, he did not try to shake hands but turned instead to Pegeen. "Special Agent Haddad? I'm Associate Director Hatcher. Pegeen, isn't it? Nice to meet you."
Pegeen winced involuntarily at Hatcher's name, or, more specifically, at his title, which he pronounced with great clarity. She noted the other man and the angrylooking woman behind Hatcher, but there was no doubt that he was the power in the room.
"How do you do, sir," she managed haltingly- but Hatcher had already turned from her, his interest no longer more than a social twitch.
The other man rose from his seat behind the conference table. Pegeen thought he looked too soft to be an agent.
She was right.
"Hello, John," the man said.
"Gold."
"It's been a while."
"That was the idea," Becker said. "To make it as long as possible." Then to Pegeen he said, "My shrink.
Or rather one of the Bureau's shrinks, the one who specializes in me."
Gold shook Pegeen's hand and murmured his name so diffidently that Pegeen wasn't sure if it was Murray, Maury, or Mary. Becker walked to the woman and kissed her. She 'seemed to accept the kiss without qualms but she did not bother to rise from her seat. She kept her eyes fixed on Pegeen, and Pegeen knew she was in trouble.
"This is Assistant Director Crist," Becker explained to Pegeen. "I call her Karen because I live with her."
The woman nodded coolly at Pegeen, and Pegeen understood the reason for the woman's hostility. She sensed the small sense of betrayal as unwarranted and irrelevant. He had no reason to tell me he was married or living with someone or anything else, she thought, we were just working. I didn't mention my marital situation with him, either. But then I had nothing of any interest to mention. He did, but he didn't so much as hint at it. And what did that indicate? Pegeen warned herself to pay attention to the business at hand. She had heard of Karen Crist, of course. There were very few women in the Bureau who outranked her, and none had risen so far so fast; all of the younger women in the organization watched her every move with fascination and inspiration.
But she was not only a phenom and a role model, Pegeen realized. She was also a jealous woman. Which meant a potentially dangerous one. Pegeen resolved to walk very lightly.
"I just thought we'd take this opportunity to see how things went,"
Hatcher said.
"What opportunity is that?" Becker asked. "The fact that we all happen to be here in the Nashville airport?
You're right, that is a pretty good opportunity."
Hatcher leaned back in his chair, the smile still fixed on his face. He was prepared to let the others run the meeting, had instructed them to do so if Becker was resistant to Hatcher's methods.
Karen leaned forward slightly. "What happened in the meeting with Swann, John?"
Becker scanned the three across the table from him very carefully before speaking. Pegeen thought he had the look of a hunted animal who was deciding which of his pursuers to attack first.
He decided on Gold.
"What's going on, Gold?"
"Well…" Gold looked at Hatcher, then Karen. He shrugged. "I'm here basically to talk to you in case you… in case you want to talk to me."
"I don't want to talk to you."
"Well..
"We listened to the meeting, John," Karen said.
"You had the prison room bugged?"
Hatcher, still smiling, studied his fingernails.
"That decision was taken," Karen said.
"And I wonder who took it?" Becker asked. Hatcher did not look up. "A new low, Hatcher."
"There are some things about the meeting we'd like you to explain,"
Karen said.
Becker ignored her, directing himself to Hatcher. "Not because you taped me without letting me know," he said.
"Because you're making my wife run this interrogations "I didn't know you were married," Hatcher said.
"Congratulations."
"We're not…" Karen said.
"I call her my wife," Becker said.
"I have no problem running this interview," Karen said. "If you feel uncomfortable, John, then-"
"You don't refer to agent Becker as your husband, do you?" Hatcher asked blandly.
"No," she said.
"You see why I was confused," Hatcher said, lifting his hands slightly as if to show they were sparkling clean.
"Apologies all around."
"None necessary, sir," Karen said. She turned to Becker. "We had a wire in the prison interview room.
We didn't have a camera. Some of the conversation seems rather ambivalent and we thought it best to clarify any ambiguities."
"You sound rather hostile to the man Swann," Gold prompted. "Was there something going on that we couldn't pick up on tape?"
Becker glared at Gold. Pegeen could see the psychologist visibly wilt under the stare.
"Perhaps we'd better talk about it in private," Gold said.
"Was, there a delay coming back from Springville?" Karen asked.
"You had a stopwatch on me, too?"
"Perhaps Agent Haddad can help us out here," Hatcher said, his smile widening. He arched his eyebrows in silent question.
"We, uh, did make an unscheduled stop, sir."
"Oh, really?"
Pegeen glanced at Becker for a clue on how to proceed.
He kept his eyes boring holes into Hatcher. For his part, the Associate Director seemed unaware of anything but Pegeen.
You don't lie to an Associate Director, Pegeen thought.
Whatever else you do, don't be that stupid. Then here goes your career.
"We stopped at the Hi-Ho Motel," she said, feeling as if she had just walked into the room and put her foot in a cow turd. She had their attention now.
"The Hi-Ho Motel," Karen repeated without inflection.
"It's a-uh-motor lodge. Just outside of Springville."
"I wanted to take a shower," Becker said.
"I understand," Hatcher said.
"No, you don't."
"And what did you do while Agent Becker took a shower?" Hatcher asked.
"I waited for him, sir."
"Where?" Karen asked.
Since I'm already dead, this will bury me, Pegeen thought.
"Pardon me?"
" 'Where did you wait,' I think is what Assistant Director Crist is asking," Hatcher volunteered.
"In the motel room, sir… it seemed best." Her ears It tinged with fire. Betrayed by her complexion again.
"I understand," Hatcher said, nodding.
"That was my assignment," Pegeen said, making matters worse, she realized.