at dead bodies," Nick said. "You think they're killers."
She nodded. "Him, yes. He has that...that look. You have it. A lot of the armed forces guys have it. I think he could have killed us all and not given it another thought. As for her..." She frowned, trying to get a better handle on it. "Have you ever worked with Lee Jennings? The guy the Behavior Analysis Unit sends to interview the nasty guys in prison?"
Nick frowned. "Yes."
"He's pretty unremarkable. I like him a lot, and so does everyone else who's worked with him. And the reason they send him into the prisons with the scum of the earth and the crazies is because they like him, too. They fall all over themselves to give him whatever information he asks for."
Nick raised his chin and his face went still. "Right. She's like that?"
Leslie nodded. "Her husband didn't say more than two or three words, but he dominated the room. The only one not intimidated was Craig - and he just wasn't looking. I'd bet Charles Smith is an Alpha of some pack we don't know about."
"Intimidating."
She nodded again. "He was playing muscle, I think. But she didn't treat him that way." Why did she think that? "He came in late with coffee for all of us - she'd sent him out so she could explain to us how to make the matter easier for him."
"To keep everyone safe?"
Leslie shook her head. "She said so, but I got the distinct impression she was a lot more worried about him than she was any of us. It was the standard stuff - don't meet his eyes if you can help it. No aggressive moves. The only new thing was that we weren't supposed to try to touch her at all. I expected a wild-eyed maniac, and the man who came in was tight, controlled, and at ease. He looked like he conducted meetings with the federal government every day of his life."
"And that made you think he was running the show behind the scenes?"
"No. That's not all of it. Body language said she respected him and deferred to his judgment. She was in front, but he was more than just backup."
"So do we invite them in?"
"She pointed out that our killer took out werewolves. Taking out werewolves, I gather and surmise, is akin to taking out a SEAL team. This UNSUB has been hunting fae and coming out - as far as we know - unscathed. Do we have a choice?"
"The FBI has some fae on payroll. We have a choice. You met them and you're damn near the best agent I have for reading people. What do you think?"
Leslie sighed loudly. "I like her. I told you. And he is...competent - he's got that air. The one that says, 'I've seen a lot and made it out alive.' They won't cost us anything, so the budget will be happy. But" - she held up a finger - "he's not going to take orders."
Nick nodded his head and did his finger-hand-talk thing for a good half minute before blowing out a breath of air. "There's a couple of people at the BAU who are familiar with the Big Game Hunter. I'll give them a call and see what the profilers say might happen to our killer if the media knows we have werewolves hunting him. You and Craig can pick up information on werewolves as you work with them. Let me think about implications for the rest of today, and if nothing strikes me as too stupid, I'll give you a go tomorrow."
Chapter 5
After a hard day of being a tourist, Anna slept deeply in the bed on the other side of the bathroom wall. Charles put his forehead against his side of that wall for a long moment before he worked up his..."Courage" was not the right word. Fortitude.
After a deep breath, Charles stepped in front of the bathroom mirror. It was one of those full-length things that women used to use to make sure their ankles weren't showing below their skirts and now used to make sure, he assumed, that their underwear showed only when they wanted it to.
And he was trying to distract himself by looking at the mirror rather than looking at the image it held.
Charles couldn't see them if he turned his head to look behind himself, but in the mirror the spirits who haunted him were as clear, as three-dimensional, as they were when they were