“Enough, Ms. Ryuan,” Katz says. “Are you here to tell me what I already know?”

“No, I’m here to tell you that sooner, rather than later, we won’t have a functioning maternity ward, or more importantly, we won’t have a viable Midwifery Division. No pregnant woman in her right mind will want to come here to deliver.”

Katz sits at his handsome steel-and-glass desk, more of a dining table than a piece of office furniture. He folds his hands, and it is obvious to me that he is struggling to stay calm.

“The statements that we issued are completely accurate. There’s not much more we can do. You’ve seen the security. It’s like the Pentagon around here.”

He could have chosen a better security comparison than the Pentagon—Fort Knox, maybe—but I decide to say nothing about that.

I do still have a lot to say.

“I think we could have twice as much security. I think we could have more cops. I think this Blumenthal character could move more aggressively. I think a lot of things.”

Katz now speaks quietly. “I know you do. And here’s what I think. I think you should be back in your office or in one of your hippie-dippie birthing rooms.”

He is almost scarlet from trying to suppress his anger.

As for me, now I’m determined to get more involved in everything. I’m not quite sure how, but I will figure out something. Troy is smart as hell, and when it comes to passion and energy, he’s got unlimited resources. If Sarkar and I ever reconnect and “make nice” with each other, he might be of some help. He might be able to light a fire under Blumenthal.

“Now, if you’ll please leave, Ms. Ryuan,” I hear Katz say.

Oh, right. My mind wandered. I’m standing in the big boss’s office. Oh, who the hell cares? I look at him as if he is just some annoying stranger. And in a way, he is.

“Thanks, as always, for your help,” I say sweetly. Then I walk out.

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

TROY IS THE MAN!

At 10 a.m. I ask him to join me in my office.

I am crazy-angry with Barrett Katz’s lazy, self-serving attitude and the investigative team’s stupid, slow-as-a-freaking-snail pace. Three kidnappings, a vicious stabbing—something has to be done. Okay, I am not the person to do it, but I am often the person who is never afraid of trying to do it.

“So you need me to light a BFF under him,” Troy says.

“Huh? A Best Friends Forever?”

“No, no, Lucy honey. A BFF is a Big Fucking Fire.”