Ray leaned back in his chair. Not an invitation. An adjustment. Creating space between himself and whatever was about to happen.
"Jasper. What can I do for you?"
"Just checking in on Vance." Marchand sat in the chair beside Emily without being offered it. Crossed one leg over the other. The suit was charcoal today, the watch catching the overhead light in a way that seemed accidental and wasn't. "Trial date's holding, I understand. Seven weeks?"
"Seven and a half," Emily said.
"Seven and a half." Marchand repeated it the way he repeated everything, turning the words over, testing them for possible use later. "And your witness situation?"
"Active and progressing," Ray said.
"Good. Good." Marchand brushed a piece of nothing from his trouser leg. "On that subject, I should mention. I've moved Delgado over to the Kowalski task force. Effective Monday."
The name landed before the implication did. Delgado. The analyst Emily had been using for Vance trial prep for three weeks. The one who'd built the financial timelines, organized the shipping manifests into a sequence the jury could follow, and was halfway through cross- referencing Costa's accounting records with the port authority filings. Three weeks of work. Monday.
"Delgado is assigned to my case," Emily said.
"Delgado is assigned to the district." Marchand's tone was patient. Instructive. The tone of a man explaining a policy he hadn't written but was happy to enforce. "Kowalski's team needs analytical support and they're short-staffed. It's a resource allocation issue. I'm sure you understand."
Emily understood. Kowalski's case was a mid-level fraud prosecution that had been sitting in pretrial for eight months. It needed an analyst like a parking lot needed a lifeguard. But the request would look reasonable on paper, and that was the only surface Marchand operated on.
"The timing is tight," Ray said. "Emily's seven weeks from trial."
"Which is why I'm sure she'll manage. You're tenacious, Emily. It's one of your best qualities." Marchand smiled. The smile that conceded nothing and promised less.
Emily heard the compliment and heard what lived underneath it.Tenacious.The word men like Marchand used for women who didn't stop when they were supposed to. A word that sounded like praise and functioned as a warning.
"Thank you," she said. Because there was nothing else to say that wouldn't give him anything to hold.
"I admire the commitment, I do. Not everyone with your pedigree would choose a posting like this. Middle District, organized crime, the whole... arrangement." He let the word carry. "Most people with your background are in DC or Manhattan by now. But I suppose everyone finds their level eventually."
Emily held still. Noted the phrasing.
Arrangement.Level.
The framework of a man who believed geography was destiny, and that Emily Callahan had taken a wrong turn.
Marchand let a beat pass. His gaze moved to the window behind Ray's desk, then back, settling between them with unhurried attention. He had nowhere to be and wanted them to know it.
"I notice your investigator hasn't been in the building."
The sentence landed in the room like a coin on a table. Small. Precise. Impossible to ignore.
"Mr. Walsh is pursuing a lead that requires fieldwork," Ray said. His voice didn't change. His posture didn't change. But Emily saw his right hand move from the armrest to the desk surface, and she knew that gesture. It was Ray anchoring himself.
"Fieldwork." Marchand nodded. "Off-site, I assume. He badged in yesterday morning but didn't stay long, from what I understand. And today, nothing."
He'd checked the badge logs. Emily processed that the same as she processed any evidence. Cataloging the implication before allowing the reaction. Marchand had gone to building security and pulled Jake's access records. Not just whether he'd shown up, but how long he'd stayed. Which meant this wasn't a casual drop-by. This was preparation.
"The nature of investigative work sometimes requires operating outside the building," Emily said. "It's not unusual."
"I just want to make sure we're all comfortable with the parameters. Off-book work has a way of creating complications for the people who authorize it."
The people who authorize it.
Not Jake. Not the person doing the work. The people who signed off. Emily looked at Ray. Ray's face was giving nothing away, but she could see the calculation behind it. The awareness that Marchand had just drawn a line around both of them and called it concern.
"There's nothing off-book about it," Ray said. "Walsh is operating within his contract scope. I'm aware of his activities and his timeline."
