“I do,” Raymond says. “I do want to pursue that connection, and I plan to hold Simon Gutmunsson’s feet to the fire to do it. But I don’t want these young people involved in it.”

“He won’t talk to you.” It’s like Emma can’t help herself. “Simon won’t talk to you. You can hold his feet to the fire—you can stand him in the middle of the goddamn fire, if it amuses you. It won’t make any difference.”

Raymond’s eyes narrow. “Young lady, do you think you have a special relationship with this boy? Because I’d be looking very carefully at yourself if you think that to be the case.”

All the blood that left Emma’s face rushes back into her cheeks. Her forehead feels hot.

“Simon Gutmunsson is just another teenage pervert whose mommy didn’t raise him right.” Raymond’s expression has a malicious cast. “If he talks to you, it’s because something about you is pulling his chain, don’t you agree, Agent Martino?”

Bell takes a step. “Sir—”

“Travis.” Emma has to hold his arm tightly.

Martino seems confused, looking back and forth between Raymond and Emma. “I… I couldn’t say, sir. It’s a little out of my lane.”

“It’s a little out of your lane. Well, yes, I imagine it is.” Raymond’s sneer takes on a more acceptable professional aspect. “Now, I’m sorry if you’re disappointed about the outcome of the interview project, Miss Lewis. You and Mr. Bell will be paid for an extra week, since the project was concluded early, and you’ll be provided with a reference for your work. I think the bureau has been very generous in this matter.”

Emma doesn’t ask about the offer to join the program, the prospective scholarship, the credits toward her college course.… None of that applies now that Cooper is dead. She wonders briefly if Cooper was even authorized to make those initial promises, then dismisses that thought. If Cooper were alive, he would’ve kept those promises come hell or high water. He would’ve made a point of it.

“I expect you’ll both need to make arrangements for packing up your accommodations and organizing transport back to your respective homes,” Raymond continues. “But your identification will no longer be valid on base after the weekend, so remember to hand in your lanyards at Behavioral Science. The United States government thanks you for your service. Now, Mr. Martino, could you escort these young people down to the offices? Then get your briefing on the phone with Agent Carter, and I’ll expect to see you back here at nineteen hundred hours. Dismissed.”

And that’s it. No more or less than what she was expecting. Emma finds she is still holding on to Bell’s arm. He shakes her off, turns around, and walks out. She follows, with Martino on her heels.

As they approach the elevators, the man comes level with her. “Miss Lewis—”

“Leave it,” Emma says.

“No, wait.” Martino gets between her and Bell, hits the elevator button. “Let’s talk.”