It was the first time she had been late in, what, a year and a half? But she was too angry to slow down. “And this story about Orrin assaulting an orderly—”

“Excuse me, were you a witness to that event? Do you know something you haven’t told me?”

“It can’t be true. Orrin wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

The objection was feeble and she knew she had made a mistake as soon as she said it. Congreve rolled his eyes. “You determined this after a twenty-minute interview? That makes you a pretty remarkable diagnostician. I guess we’re lucky to have you.”

Her cheeks were burning. “I talked to his sister—”

“You did? When?”

“I met her outside the facility. But—”

“You’re telling me you consulted with the patient’s family on your own time? Then I guess you must have written up a formal report … or at least a memo to me and Dr. Fein. No?”

“No,” Sandra admitted.

“And you fail to see a pattern of unprofessional behavior here?”

“That doesn’t explain—”

“Stop! Just stop, before you make it worse.” Congreve softened his tone. “Look. I admit your work has been satisfactory up to this point. So I’m willing to write off recent events as stress-related. But you really need to step back and think about things. In fact, why don’t you take the rest of the week off?”

“That’s ridiculous.” She hadn’t anticipated this.

“I’m reassigning your caseload. All of it. Go home, Dr. Cole, calm down, and deal with whatever it is that’s distracting you from your duties. Take a week, minimum—more, if you like. But don’t come back until you’ve recovered some objectivity.”

Sandra was one of the most reliable employees at State and Congreve knew it. But he probably also knew she had been seen at lunch with Bose. Congreve simply wanted her out of the way until Orrin was dealt with. To whom had he retailed his conscience, Sandra wondered, and what was the going price these days?

She wanted to ask him these questions and might have done so even at the risk of her job, but she stopped herself. She was only digging herself in deeper, and in the end this wasn’t about her or Congreve, it was about Orrin. Fatally offending Congreve wouldn’t do Orrin any good at all. So she nodded curtly, trying not to register the triumphant glare he gave her.

“All right,” she said. She tried to sound plausibly compliant, if not cowed. A week. If he insisted.

Out the door, down the hallway, thinking furiously: she still had her pass and her credentials, should she need to come back … She paused at her own office to gather a few loose notes. Stepping into the corridor again she almost bounced off Jack Geddes, the orderly. “Come to escort you off the premises,” he said, obviously relishing the astonishment on her face.