“You’re at the Zook farmhouse alone?”

“Skid is in the barn. T.J. is parked out of sight by the bridge.”

“What about your other guys?”

“Glock and Pickles are with the Zook family a few miles from here.”

“Kate, that’s not enough men.”

That’s when I realize he’s been drinking. Tomasetti is good at pretending. Good at faking. Hell, he’s an Academy Award–worthy actor half of the time. But I know him well. I know every nuance of his voice. I know how to read between the lines. I know he can be a prick when he’s hurt or angry.

“Sheriff’s office has stepped up patrols,” I say. “It’s all I’ve got.”

“Why the hell didn’t you call me? I could have helped.”

“You’re not exactly on active status.”

“That never stopped you before.”

“John, look, you’ve got a lot going on right now. And I’ve thought this thing through. We’re organized. Prepared. I think we can handle it.”

“You think?”

“I’m sure we can.” But I fumble the words.

“Or maybe you didn’t call me because you think I’m going to freak out at some inopportune moment and fuck things up for you.”

“That’s not true,” I say evenly.

He cuts me off. “Better to wait until I’m a hundred miles away. A safe distance where I can’t do any harm. Did you discuss my precarious state of mind with your team, Kate? Did they agree with your assessment?”

“I’m not going to justify that with a response.”

“That’s rich.”

“I just wanted to let you know we might be getting a break soon. I wanted you to know what we were doing. How we were handling—”

“You wanted to let me know you can do this all by yourself.”

The words sting. They make me feel like a selfish bitch. Like maybe this is more about me than catching a killer, and I’ve put my officers and myself in harm’s way because I’m trying to prove something I don’t have to prove. I defend my position anyway. “That’s not true.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’ve been drinking.”

“I’m sure you’re shocked.”

“Look, I just called to let you know what’s going on.”

“Waiting until now to call me was a goddamn bitchy thing to do.”

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

“I’m always like this. Wake the hell up.”

Fury burns through me with such force my hands shake. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Goddamn you, Kate. How the hell do you expect me to sleep tonight, knowing you’re alone in that house?” he shouts.

“I’m not alone.”

“You don’t have enough backup. T.J.’s a rookie and Skid isn’t exactly top notch. Do you think that’s good police work? That’s insane.”