Page 70 of Manner of Death

Bashir narrowed his eyes at Sawyer. “Seriously?”

“I… That’s…” Sawyer stammered. “Look. I can explain the—”

“Sure you can,” Bashir growled. “You can feed us only the information we need to know for you to get information out of her.” He tsked and shook his head. “I know you have to pull shady crap to solve cases, but I didn’t think you’d drag me into it.”

Sawyer’s features hardened. “So you think I should handle things differently because I’m involved with you? Let our relationship affect my investigation?”

Okay. Yeah. He made a valid point.

But so did Bashir.

He let Tami go and stepped around her, putting himself between her and Sawyer as he stepped up into Sawyer’s face. “I understand you have to be unbiased. I understand you have to do whatever it takes to find this goddamned killer. But if you have to weaponize my job and my professional reputation to manipulate one of my subordinates into a bullshit confession, then maybe I’m not the one whose professional reputation should be called into question.”

Sawyer’s lips parted.

Bashir didn’t wait for a response. He turned, wrapped an arm around Tami’s shoulders, and herded her down the hall.

All he heard behind him was the other detective murmuring, “Let them go.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he said to Tami.

She leaned into him and sniffled. “They really think I killed those people. I… You know I’d never kill anyone, right?”

“I know.”

Deep down, he was more conflicted about that than he wanted to be. Not because he actually believed Tami was capable of murder. No, it was because he’d been doing this long enough to know that most people who killed were exactly the kind of people everyone assumed were incapable of doing so.

But this wasn’t a crime of passion. This wasn’t the one-time incident that had shellshocked people telling cameras that “He was always so quiet” or “I never imagined she could do such a thing.” This was a serial killer. Most of them had tells. They were “off” in a way that had people keeping their distance and wondering how long until that creepy weirdo’s name was in the headlines.

Then again, he thought as he led Tami into an empty conference room, some of the people who knew Ted Bundy were shocked when he was arrested.

Still, Bashir had a hell of a time believing she could be behind these terrible killings. It just didn’t make sense.

In the conference room, he sat her down with a cup of coffee and some tissues. Her attorney joined them a moment later, and Bashir stepped out to give them some privacy.

In the hallway, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. Was this just the universe getting back at him for thinking it was simpler to work with the dead than the living? Maybe. It really did have a fucked-up sense of humor sometimes.

Footsteps approached. Dress shoes, but not Sawyer’s. No, this was the clomp of thick heels.

Bracing himself and hoping this was just someone passing through, he opened his eyes and turned his head. Detective Nan Walker was coming up the hall, and she was laser-focused on him.

Damn.

She stopped in front of him and gestured at the door. “Is she…?”

Bashir nodded. “She’s talking with her lawyer.”

“Good.” She stared at the closed door for a moment before turning to him. “Listen, I don’t want to put my nose where it doesn’t belong. This thing between you and Sawyer—it’s none of my business, and I’m not getting involved.”

He pressed his lips together, biting back a retort that there wasn’t a thing between him and Sawyer. Not after today. Fuck that guy.

Detective Walker must’ve seen the anger rolling across his face, because her expression softened. “I was part of that interview, Dr. Ramin. It… I don’t think Sawyer is quite as much of a villain here as it sounds.”

He cocked a brow. “How so?”

“The thread Sawyer and I were pulling was that someone put Tami up to some of the activities that have her under suspicion. We may have laid it on thicker than you would have liked, but our point was that if she didn’t come clean about who was behind it, then it was quite possibly going to fall back on you.” She shrugged. “And… I mean, we’re not wrong.”

Bashir’s blood turned cold. “How in the world could any of this fall back on me? She works for me, but that doesn’t mean I dictate her life outside of the morgue.”