like she was expected to salute the director.
“Ray will be your only comms channel from now on, understood?” came Susan Cross’s crisp voice down the line.
“Ray?”
“Ray Jackson. I presume you have already met him? You haven’t shot the man or anything, have you?”
Tanya bit her lip.
She had fired a shot on this property. Just not at Ray. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t tell Cross what she really thought of the crazy coot who used smoke bombs and scarecrows as intruder deterrents.
“No, ma’am.”
“Tell me, what’s the police chief focusing on at this moment?”
“A murdered schoolgirl. We found her in a ditch, dehydrated and starved, but with no visible injuries. The team’s checking old case files for more missing girls. We might have a serial offender here.”
Cross was silent, like she was contemplating something. “Perhaps.”
Tanya spoke up. “Do I have permission to focus my efforts on this case? I was there when the victim died and I’d like to get to the bottom—”
The phone rustled as Cross moved on her end.
“Don’t lose your view of the forest by getting lost among the blades of grass, Agent Stone.”
Tanya bristled.
Laura Fredrickson wasn’t a blade of grass. She was a schoolgirl whose life had been brutally cut short.
“The problem we’re trying to ferret out is bigger than just one dead girl,” said Cross. “Our first task is to identify who’s who in that town. Their relationships and their animosities.”
“Can I trust the chief? After all, he called the FBI for help.”
“No.”
Tanya drew back in surprise.
“Do we have any evidence that says he might be behind these crimes?” she asked, wondering if the director was hiding crucial information from her.
“Right now, we can’t trust anyone. Consider the whole town as suspects.”
An entire town of suspects?
“Are there other FBI agents undercover in Black Rock?” asked Tanya.
“I can’t answer that question.”
Why the heck not?
Tanya tried not to grit her teeth. Her colleagues at the bureau complained often of how some of their bosses, Special Agents in Charge, micromanaged them to death. But this was something else.
What’s the opposite of micromanaging? Macro-managing?
Tanya didn’t even know who her immediate superior was anymore, and she sure as heck wasn’t presumptuous enough to believe she reported directly to Cross.
“If I knew exactly what you wanted, I’d dig it up for you,” said Tanya, rustling up more gumption than she felt. “But right now, if I may speak frankly, I feel like I’m on a mad goose chase.”
She knew speaking up like this was an enormous risk. Not just a professional one, but a personal one.
This case could make or break her, and let her keep the steady paycheck she desperately needed.
After rent, gas, and Max’s kibbles, her pay went to the trafficking safe house for orphaned children in her village. But three years ago, a crooked CFO had emptied the orphanage’s coffers and disappeared.
Something caught in Tanya’s throat as she remembered her last visit. Five to ten-year-old girls and boys sitting in the cafeteria, eating soup, eyes down, fidgeting with the frayed hems of their hand-me-down shirts. The quiet had been heartbreaking.
There were only a few times in her life when Tanya had wanted to bawl her eyes out. This had been one.
Tanya knew what it was like to be a trafficked survivor. She didn’t even want to think of the horrors these children might have experienced at such a young age.
All she could do was send them as much of her salary as possible so they could get back on their feet.
She needed this job.
“You’ve judged the situation wrong, Agent Stone,” Cross was saying in her crisp, no-nonsense voice. “Something big is brewing in that town and has been for a few years. That new chief has no clue what he has on his hands.”
“Exactly what does he have on his hands?”
“The increasing crime rates are a ruse for something bigger. That’s why you’re there. To watch. To listen. To learn and report back. Blend in and build trust. Those are your marching orders for now.”
“May I speak frankly, ma’am?”
“Go ahead.”
“I’m a fighter. I hunt and shoot terrorists. I’ll take on anyone in combat, but I can’t act. I can’t play a role. And I don’t have a diplomatic bone in my body.”
“Then learn, Agent Stone.”
Tanya’s jaws clenched.
Why do I feel like I’ve been dumped into the middle of the Hunger Games?
When Susan Cross’s voice came down the line again, it was a notch softer.
“I wouldn’t have selected you if you couldn’t handle the job. You’re more than capable of working with the chief’s team. All you have to do is keep your eyes and ears open.”
She paused.
“Everything you have seen and heard counts. Keep close to the chief’s files. Take note of who’s connected to whom. That will help us build a case against whoever is unleashing this crime spree along the coast. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’ve faced worse in Ukraine. I understand you just graduated, but no one in my team has the combination of skills and field experience you do.”
Cross stopped. A heavy pause weighed in the air. Tanya braced herself, feeling like she was waiting for the punchline.
“I have faith in you,” said Cross, finally. “Do you?”
Tanya took a sharp breath in.
Cross was waiting for an answer patiently. Unusual for her.
“I do.” Tanya let out her breath. “I always have.”
“Good. Ray will contact you when we need to talk. You can trust him. We must keep these communications to a minimum. Your activities will be watched and I can’t afford to have your position given away.”
“Understood,” said Tanya. “About Ray Jackson. Does he work for the bureau?”
“He’s an old friend. He was my first supervisor. He’s had an eccentric streak ever since I met him when I started at the FBI eons ago, but he’s a good man. You can trust him. In fact, he’s the only person in Black Rock you can trust.”
“Do I report to him?”
“You report to me.”
Tanya’s eyebrows shot up.
“You’re in uncharted waters. So, watch your back. I don’t want to bring you back to HQ in a body bag.”
Tanya made a face. I don’t plan on returning to Seattle in a body bag either, Boss.
“I’m counting on you, Agent Stone.”
The phone line went dead.