She called out Bills name.
She heard no answer.
Then she called out again.
This time she thought she heard a groan from a nearby room.
Her heart pounded again as she hurried through the doorway into Bills bedroom. The room was dim and the blinds were closed. Bill was lying on the unmade bed, wearing rumpled clothes and staring up at the ceiling.
Bill, why didnt you answer when I called? she asked somewhat irritably.
I did, he said in a near-whisper. You didnt hear me. Could you stop being so loud?
Riley saw a nearly empty bourbon bottle sitting on the nightstand. Suddenly the whole scene became clear. She sat down on the bed beside him.
I had kind of a rough night, Bill said, trying to force a feeble chuckle. You know what thats like.
Yeah, I do, Riley said.
After all, despair had driven her to her own binges and ensuing hangovers.
She touched his clammy forehead, imagining how sick he must feel.
What set you off drinking? she asked.
Bill groaned.
It was my boys, he said.
Then he fell silent. Riley hadnt seen Bills two sons for a while. She guessed that they must be about nine and eleven years old by now.
What about them? Riley asked.
They came over to visit yesterday. It didnt go well. The place was a mess, and I was so irritable and edgy. They couldnt wait to go home. Riley, it was awful. I was awful. One more visit like that, and Maggie wont let me see them again. Shes looking for any excuse to cut them out of my life for good.
Bill made a noise that sounded almost like a sob. But he didnt seem to have the energy to cry. Riley suspected hed done plenty of crying alone.
Bill said, Riley, if Im no good as a father, what good am I? Im no good as an agent, not anymore. Whats left?
Riley felt a stab of sadness in her throat.
Bill, dont talk like that, she said. Youre a great father. And youre a great agent. Maybe not today but every other day of the year.
Bill shook his head wearily.
I sure didnt feel like much of a dad yesterday. And I just keep hearing that shot. I keep remembering running into that building, seeing Lucy lying there bleeding.
Riley felt her own body tremble a little.
She, too, remembered all too well.
Lucy had entered an abandoned building unaware of any danger, only to be taken down by a snipers bullet. Following close behind her, Bill had mistakenly shot a young man who had been trying to help. By the time Riley got there, Lucy had used her last ounce of strength to kill the sniper with multiple rounds.
Lucy had died moments later.
It had been an awful scene.
Riley couldnt remember many worse situations in her entire career.
She said, I got there even later than you did.
Yeah, but you didnt shoot an innocent kid.
It wasnt your fault. It was dark. You had no way of knowing. Besides, that kids doing all right now.
Bill shook his head. He held up a shaky hand.
Look at me. Do I look like the kind of guy who can ever get back to work?
Riley was almost angry now. He truly did look terrible certainly not like the shrewd, brave partner shed learned to trust with her life, nor the handsome man shed felt rashly attracted to from time to time. And all this self-pity didnt become him.
But she sternly reminded herself
Ive been there. I know what its like.
And when shed been like this, Bill had always been there to get her through it.
Sometimes hed had to be tough on her.
She figured he needed a bit of that toughness right now.
You look like hell, she said. But the condition youre in right now well, you did to yourself. And youre the only one who can fix it.
Bill looked up into her eyes. She sensed that he was really paying attention to her now.
Sit up, she said. Pull yourself together.
Bill creakily pulled himself up and sat on the edge of the bed next to Riley.
Has the agency assigned you a therapist? she asked.
Bill nodded.
Who is he? Riley asked.
It doesnt matter, Bill said.
It sure as hell does matter, Riley said. Who is he?
Bill didnt reply. But Riley was able to guess. Bills assigned psychiatrist was Leonard Ralston, known better to the public as Dr. Leo. She felt herself flush with anger. But she wasnt angry with Bill now.
Oh, my God, she said. Theyve stuck you with Dr. Leo. Whose idea was that? Walders, Ill bet.
Like I said, it doesnt matter.
Riley wanted to shake him.
Hes a quack, she said. You know that as well as I do. Hes into hypnosis, recovered memories, all sorts of discredited crap. Dont you remember last year, when he persuaded an innocent man that he was guilty of murder? Walder likes Dr. Leo because hes written books and been on TV a lot.
Im not letting him mess with my head, Bill said. I wont let him hypnotize me.
Riley was trying to keep her voice under control.
Thats not the point. You need someone who can help you.
And who might that be? Bill asked.
Riley didnt have to think about it for more than a few seconds.
Im going to make you some coffee, she said. When I get back, I expect you to be on your feet and ready to get out of this place.
On her way to Bills kitchen, Riley looked at her watch. She had little time to spare before the plane would be ready. She had to act quickly.
She took out her cell phone and punched in the personal number for Mike Nevins, a forensic psychiatrist in DC who worked for the Bureau from time to time. Riley considered him to be a close friend, and he had helped her through several of her own crises in the past, including a terrible case of PTSD.
When Mikes phone started ringing, she put her cell phone on speaker, left it on the kitchen counter, and started setting up Bills coffeemaker. She was relieved when Mike answered the phone.
Riley! Its great to hear from you! How are things? How is that growing family of yours?
The sound of Mikes voice was refreshing, and she could almost see the fussy, well-dressed man and his pleasant expression. She wished she could chat with him and catch up with things, but there wasnt time for that.
Im fine, Mike. But Im in a hurry. Ive got to catch a plane shortly. I need a favor.
Name it, Mike said.
My partner, Bill Jeffreys, is going through a rough time right now after our last case.
She could hear a note of genuine concern in Mikes voice.
Oh dear, I heard about that. Terrible thing, the death of that young protégé of yours. Is it true that your partner has been put on leave? Something to do with shooting the wrong man?
Thats right. He needs your help. And he needs it right away. Hes drinking, Mike. Ive never seen him this bad.
There was a short silence.
Im not sure I understand, Mike said. Hasnt he been assigned a therapist?
Yeah, but hes not doing Bill any good.
Now there was a note of caution in Mikes voice.
I dont know, Riley. Im generally not comfortable taking patients who are already under someone elses care.
Riley felt a flash of worry. She didnt have time to deal with Mikes ethical scruples right now.
Mike, theyve assigned him to Dr. Leo.
Another silence fell.