The air smelled metallic, and I breathed in deep. The last week had been spent mostly indoors. That was something I hadn’t prepared for. It was easy to work behind a desk in freezing Chicago temperatures. Working so much when it was downright balmy was proving to be more difficult as the gorgeous days came, one after another.

I looked up at the sky, seeing flashes of lightning at the edge of the city. It would be easier to be at work in stormy weather.

I pushed through the glass double doors, flicking my hands and spraying the carpet with rainwater. Despite being soaked, I was in a good mood.

I looked to the agent at the desk with a broad smile. She wasn’t impressed with my positivity, my manners, or the fact that I’d walked that far in the rain.

My smile fell away, and I cleared my throat. “Special Agent Maddox?”

She took a long look at my badge and then nodded behind her. “He’s in interrogation room two.”

“Thank you,” I said. I walked over to the security door and bent over a bit while holding my badge to the black box on the wall near the door. I felt ridiculous, and someday soon, I would have to find a retractable badge holder.

The bolt lock clicked, and I pushed through. I walked down the hall and then through a door before seeing Thomas standing alone, watching Agent Grove question an unknown subject—also known as an unsub—a sullen, lanky Asian man in a bright track suit.

“Agent Lindy,” Thomas said.

I crossed my arms, aware that my white blouse was wet and I was cold. “How long has he been at it?”

“Not long. The subject has been cooperating.”

I listened to them conversing in Japanese. Immediately, I frowned.

“What made you come this way?” Thomas asked.

“I had some questions about a few of Grove’s transcriptions. I need your permission to speak with him.”

“For the Yakuza case?”

“Yes.”

He hummed, unaffected. “Your function here is confidential.”

“Someone left a stack of his reports on my door. I assumed Grove knew I was also a specialist and wanted me to look them over.”

“Assumptions are dangerous, Liis. I put them there.”

“Oh.”

“Did you find anything?”

“A lot of things.”

I looked through the glass at the three people inside. Another agent was sitting in the corner, taking notes but otherwise looking extremely bored.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Pittman. He wrecked his third vehicle. He’s on desk duty for a while.”

I looked to Thomas. He was unreadable.

“You don’t seem surprised that I found some discrepancies,” I said, watching Grove through the one-way mirror. I pointed. “There. He just translated that eleven former members of Yakuza are living in a building that also houses other subjects of Bureau investigations.”

“So?”