That was slightly reassuring, Tilly thought. “Maybe, maybe not,” she offered. “Houndum saw the interview himself, so he knows this is domestic, but if we connect it to this Black Lives Matter stuff, he can convince the higher-ups to let us keep access to the computers for a few more weeks. They’ve got connections with Palestinian activists. It’s nothing substantial, but for our audience, that doesn’t matter.”

“Finally sounding like a closer. I see you!” Rick said as he dropped his legs to the floor and sprung from his seat. He left quietly, gathering his gear and exiting with a quick wave.

Tilly remained standing, slowly pacing her office. Rick hadn’t mentioned that the lead suspect of one of their cases had just come and become the lead witness for another case. How had that not come up?

Maybe it was pride. He had processed Sims and hadn’t recognized him. Or at least he hadn’t shown recognition. Tilly wasn’t sure why she hadn’t flat-out told him about Sims instead of dropping hints. Maybe she was testing the waters. Eccentric personality aside, Rick had always been a great partner. They had closed every case they’d worked on together, with minimal need for overtime. And Rick had never been off his game. But he still needed to earn his keep, and missing alley-oops wasn’t acceptable. He hadn’t even mentioned the fact that they let Sims go. Weird.

Tilly contemplated the Sims case. They’d been assigned to Sims after he’d jacked an old Lexus from an Atlanta councilwoman’s son. He should have been brought in by Atlanta’s finest, but Houndum finessed his way into getting the investigation picked up by the FBI and insisted that they build a huge case against him. “Free publicity,” he’d written in the subject line of the email assigning the case. #FireandBrimStoneMountain was certainly better publicity, and thus a better promotion, but it wasn’t like Rick to leave a case open or to make mistakes, even for a better case. He must be really stressed, Tilly concluded.

She sat down at her desk and studied her face in her pocket mirror. She was definitely stressed, but she looked better than she’d expected. Black don’t crack, but it damn sure stretches, she thought, chuckling to herself. The sight of her smile made her pause. She hadn’t seen it in a while; it was almost unfamiliar.

Ready for sleep, Tilly retrieved her groceries and headed for her car, dwelling on the odd surprise of having forgotten what she looked like when she smiled. As she drove home, she wondered how it would feel to completely forget, her mind electrified by the possibility.

chapter 12