“That I haven’t closed it,” I say.
“Exactly.”
“Do you want to know why?”
Trey shakes her head. “I already know. It’s not finished.” She pauses and takes a sip of her coffee. “The fact that the man is behind bars and his file is still open says something about how you view this case.”
I scoff. “My SAC thinks I’m stalling because I have a personal relationship with one of the victims.”
“I don’t care about that. What I care about is that you’re aware enough to know there are other issues with this case, that once it’s closed, it will be a mountain of paperwork to get it open again. I admire someone who isn’t afraid to go against the grain, and I want someone like you to head up the division. This is just one file of many that we have. It makes sense for San Diego to have their own task force instead of continually borrowing from Quantico.”
I take a drink of my coffee and lean forward, feeling a bit queasy. Honestly, the past couple of weeks I’ve felt off, and I’m not sure I haven’t picked up some bug from the cesspool of underground filth I’ve had to wade through in Vegas. Figuratively speaking, of course.
“The job isn’t without hardship, as you know. The job is hard. It takes a toll on a person. But it requires someone with guts and passion. I think that’s you.”
Leading a team would be a dream. Nate and I could put down some roots and not have to travel so much. “Would I be able to continue working on the Lawson case, even though my leads have gone cold?”
Trey pushes the file toward me. I open it even though I have the contents memorized. “I’d expect nothing less,” she says. I thumb through the pages and work to keep the contents of my stomach where they belong. He’s a sick, sick man.
“How big is the team?”
“Besides you, Granger, Skinner, and Turner. Each of them has major crimes experience, and Turner did a stint at BAU.”
I nod. “And an office?”
“Your own pit, with an analyst. We’re not cutting corners here. Trafficking is an issue, especially so close to the border. I want it stopped.”
We’re on the same page there. “When can I start?”
“Let’s take a trip downstairs. I’ll show you around.”
We all get up and head to the elevator to go down one floor. I would’ve preferred the stairs, but whatever. When the door opens, we step out, and there are two sets of glass doors, one to the right and the other to the left. We go to the one on the left. It’s dark inside but lights up as soon as Trey unlocks the door and flips the switch.
The pit is like every other one I’ve been in—desks in the center of the room with whiteboards covering every inch of the wall space. Trey shows me where my office would be. I step in and pretend to check out the view and look around. Most offices are the same with the desk facing two chairs, a working table that seats four, large windows overlooking either the parking lot or the knoll, and a credenza behind the desk. The shelves are blank, as are the walls, giving me ample space to display my degrees, accommodations, and books.
“What do you think?” Trey stands at the door and motions for me to look at the nameplate. Hughes, in etched letters, appears there.
I glance at the other agents. All three appear to wait for me to agree or back out. “I think we have a lot of work to do.”
Trey smiles. “Welcome to San Diego. How fast can you be ready?”
“Monday, if that works for everyone?” The other agents nod.
Trey leaves us to figure out the logistics of starting a new force. We’re going to start fresh when the week begins, see what we can uncover, and see who we can bring down. I spend the rest of my morning sitting at my desk, in my empty office, making calls to my Las Vegas SAC. He’s not pleased, but understands and expects that we’ll end up working on the same cases. He tells me that he’ll send copies over as soon as possible. I hang up and lean back in my chair. My view is of the dried grass behind the building. I think this is better than looking at the parking lot. I’d likely spend too much time wondering where people were going or what they were doing. I press Nate’s name on my phone and hold it to my ear.
“Hey, how’d your meeting go?” Nate says when he answers.
“Good,” I tell him. “Actually, it was amazing.”
He chuckles. “Oh yeah, did you get a raise?”
"Promotion.”
“Hot shit, congrats.”
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “Thing is, it requires me to move.”