Kate hesitated, but then nodded. “Got no choice, right?”
“Judge wants it, but I hope you come to want it. This is a safe place, Kate, no judgments. Opinion only if you ask for it.”
Her eyes roamed to my face, saw I was sincere. “Okay then, next time.”
I’d no sooner shut the door than my cell phone buzzed in my office. I ran and grabbed it on the fourth buzz, seeing Bree was calling for a second time.
“You already showered and off to work?” I said.
“I never made it home,” she said in a strained voice. “You haven’t heard?”
“No. I’ve been in a session the past—”
“Someone put two bombs on the National Mall, Alex. Michaels put me in command up on the Washington Monument where I could see everything. We got one neutralized before it exploded at 8:26. But I made a decision to send a bomb team to neutralize the second IED versus checking it first with a robot. When they were close, at 8:23, it went off. They’re okay because of the mats and the suits, but it’s a wonder they weren’t killed.”
“Jesus,” I said. “How are you?”
“Shaken,” she said. “I haven’t sent men in to get bombed before.”
I winced. “I can’t imagine, baby. What’s Michaels saying?”
“He has my back. Denton recommended the attempt. We had seven minutes, so I accepted her recommendation.”
“How did you know you had seven minutes?”
“The bomber told me. He called my cell to warn me that an IED was supposed to go off at 8:26 a.m.”
“Why you?”
“No idea. But he had my private number.”
“No suspects?”
“We have a suspect in custody,” she said, and told me about a man who’d waded into the reflecting pool before dismantling his pistol. “We want you to come in and talk to him ASAP.”
“Uh, I’m suspended pending trial.”
“Mahoney’s taken the lead. He wants you there, and Michaels will never know.”
“Okay,” I said uncertainly. “But I’m stacked with patients until two.”
There was a pause before Bree said, “Two bombs on the National Mall, Alex?”
Even though she wasn’t there with me, I held up my free hand in surrender. “You’re right. No argument. Where do you want me and when?”
“FBI building, ASAP. Bring me a change of clothes?”
&nbs
p; “Absolutely,” I said, grabbing a pen to scribble notes on what she wanted.
So much for my suspension.
Chapter 6
I raced upstairs, told Nana Mama I wouldn’t be picking up my younger son, Ali, after school, got Bree’s clothes and basic toiletries in an overnight bag, and called a car through Uber that arrived in just a few minutes. The driver said traffic was finally starting to move, as the police opened up the roads. I spent most of the ride calling patients to cancel appointments.
When I finished, I closed my eyes and shifted my thinking from the call of psychotherapy back to the craft of investigation, a craft that until five months before had consumed most of my adult life in six years with the Bureau’s Behavioral Science Unit, and fourteen on and off with DC Metro’s major cases team.