They never do .
A lazy smile on your face, you run your fingertips across each one. Remembering. Savoring. Planning .
Because its never enough. Its never over .
Especially now .
CHAPTER 10
on their shoes. But now I had to wonder how much of it was really imagination and how much of it was my subconscious working its way through Lias BPE.
Had I imagined that Lia was messyor had I profiled it?
Theres cereal in the cabinet and eggs in the fridge, Judd greeted me from behind a newspaper as I wandered into the kitchen, still debating that question. Im making a grocery run at oh-nine-hundred. If youve got requests, speak now or forever hold your peace.
No requests, I said.
Low maintenance, Judd commented.
I shrugged. I try.
Judd folded his paper, carried an empty mug to the sink, and rinsed it out. A minute laterat nine oclock on the dotI was alone in the kitchen. As I poured myself a bowl of cereal, I went back to trying to work my way through the logic of my Lia simulation, to figure out how I knew what I knewand if I knew it at all.
I have no idea what those Cheerios did to you, but Im sure theyre very, very sorry, Michael said as he slid into the seat next to me at the kitchen table.
Excuse me?
Youve been stirring them into submission for a good five minutes, Michael told me. Its spoon violence, is what it is.
I picked up a Cheerio and flicked it at him. Michael caught it and popped it into his mouth.
So which one of us was it this time? Michael asked.
Suddenly, I became very interested in my Cheerios.
Come on, Colorado. When your brain starts profiling, your face starts broadcasting a mix of concentration, curiosity, and calm. Michael paused. I took a big bite of cereal. The muscles in your neck relax, he continued. Your lips turn ever so subtly down. Your head tilts slightly to one side, and you get crows-feet at the corners of your eyes.
I set my spoon calmly in my bowl. I do not get crows-feet.
Michael helped himself to my spoonand a bite of cereal. Anyone ever tell you youre cute when youre annoyed?
I hope Im not interrupting. Lia came in, stole the cereal box, and started eating right out of the carton. Actually, thats not true. Whatevers going on here, I am absolutely delighted to interrupt it.
I tried to keep myself from studying Liaand I definitely tried to keep from wrinkling the corners of my eyesbut it was hard to ignore the fact that she was wearing barely-there silk pajamas. And pearls.
So, Cassie, are you ready for your first day of How to Crawl into the Skulls of Bad Guys 101? Lia set the cereal box down and headed for the fridge. Her head disappeared into the refrigerator as she started digging around. Her pajama bottoms left very little to the imagination.
Im ready, I said, averting my eyes.
Cassie was born ready, Michael declared. Over in the refrigerator, Lia stopped rummaging for a moment. Besides, Michael continued, whatever Agent Locke has her doing, it has to be better than watching foreign-language films. Without the subtitles.
I bit back a smile at the aggrieved tone in Michaels voice. Is that what they had you do on your first day?
That, Michael said, is what they had me do for my first month . Emotions arent about what people say, he mimicked, theyre about posture, facial expressions, and culture-specific instantiations of universal phenomenological experiences.
Lia exited the refrigerator with empty hands, shut the door, and opened the freezer. Poor baby, she told Michael. Ive been here for almost three years, and the only thing theyve taught me is that psychopaths are really good liars, and FBI agents are really bad ones.
Have you met many? I asked.
FBI agents? Lia feigned ignorance as she retrieved a carton of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream from the freezer.
I gave her a look. Psychopaths.
She grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and brandished it like a magic wand. The FBI hides us away in a nice little house in a nice little neighborhood in a nice little town. Do you really think Briggs is going to let me tag along on prison interviews? Or go into the field, where I might actually get to do something?
Michael put Lias words in slightly more diplomatic terms. The Bureau has tapes, he said. And reels and transcripts. Cold cases, mostly. Things that other people havent ever been able to solve. And for every cold case they bring us, there are dozens of cases that theyve already solved. Tests to see if we really are as good as Agent Briggs says we are.
Even when you give them the answer theyre looking for, Lia continued, picking up right where Michael left off, even when the Powers That Be know that youre right, they want to know why.
Why what? This time, I didnt
ask the question out loudbut Michael answered it anyway.
Why we can do it and they cant. He reached over and snagged another bite of my Cheerios. They dont just want to train us. They dont just want to use us. They want to be us.
Absolutely, a new voice concurred. Deep down, in my heart of hearts, all I really want is to be Michael Townsend.