"Agent Wise." Sloane extended her hand. Her grip was firm, almost aggressive. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Nothing too terrible, I hope."
"The Riverside Killer case, 2017. You identified him through victimology patterns that everyone else missed." Sloane's tone was flat, matter-of-fact, as if she were reciting information from a file. "Three victims in six months, all killed with different methods. You figured out they'd all attended the same community college fifteen years earlier."
Kate remembered that case well. It had been one of her last major investigations before she’d attempted retirement the first time. "That's right. How did you know about it?"
"I read the case file when I was studying for my profiling certification. It was a good piece of work." Sloane said it without inflection, a statement of fact rather than a compliment. Then she seemed to lose interest in the topic and looked back at DeMarco as if to wait for the next step in the process.
DeMarco's expression remained neutral, but Kate could see the slight tension around her eyes. "I thought you two might benefit from talking. Kate has experience that could be useful as you adjust to working here."
"I'm adjusting fine." Sloane's attention had already drifted to the window behind DeMarco's desk, watching something in the parking lot below. "The protocols are straightforward. I've read all the relevant documentationseveraltimes."
Kate studied Sloane, noting the way she held herself, the constant low-level restlessness that seemed to vibrate just beneath the surface. This was someone who'd spent too long operating on instinct alone, someone who'd learned to survive by reading situations and people rather than following rules. The undercover work had changed her, just as DeMarco hadsaid, but it was more than that. Sloane looked like someone who was fundamentally bored by the structure of regular agent work. There was an almost snarky quality to her but she kept itjust enoughin check that it wasn’t too obvious.
"Reading documentation isn't the same as understanding when to apply it," Kate said carefully.
Sloane's attention snapped back to her, those dark eyes suddenly focused and sharp. "Are you saying I don't understand my job?"
"I'm saying there's a difference between knowing the rules and knowing when following them matters." Kate kept her voice even, making sure she didn’t sound confrontational. "That's not something you learn from a manual."
For a moment, Sloane just looked at her, evaluating. Then something in her expression shifted slightly, a crack in the defensive posture. "You're talking about the witness contact last week."
"I'm not talking about anything specific. I'm just offering perspective."
"From someone who's retired." Sloane turned back to DeMarco. "No offense, but I'm not sure how much help I can expect from someone who doesn't work active cases anymore."
Kate felt a flash of irritation but kept it off her face. She'd dealt with defensive agents before, young investigators who confused confidence with competence. Sloane was brilliant, that much was obvious from the way she processed information and made connections. But she was also dismissive, quick to write off anything that didn't immediately engage her interest.
Before Kate could respond, DeMarco's desk phone rang. She glanced at the screen, then picked it up. "This is DeMarco."
Kate watched DeMarco's expression change as she listened, becoming more focused. At the same time, she was also aware that Sloane was watching her, Kate, carefully.
"When?” DeMarco asked. “And local PD has confirmed?" A pause. "Right. We'll take it."
She ended the call and looked between Kate and Sloane. "Looks like we’ve got a case… and a local one at that. Second homicide in a week, similar enough that local authorities are requesting FBI involvement. Both victims were killed in their homes with personalized items that belonged to them."
Sloane's posture shifted immediately, that restless energy channeling into something more directed. "What kind of personalized items?"
"The first victim was stabbed with a letter opener that had been a gift. This morning's victim was killed the same way." DeMarco pulled up something on her computer. "Richmond PD is at the scene now. They're requesting an agent ASAP."
"I'll take it." Sloane was already standing. "What's the address?"
DeMarco read it off the screen, and Kate felt something cold settle in her stomach. Willow Ridge Drive. That was her neighborhood. Two streets over from her own house, in fact.
"The victim is Rachel Thornton," DeMarco continued. "Forty-two years old, financial consultant, found this morning by her husband. Local PD has him in custody for questioning, but they're not treating him as the primary suspect. The similarities to last week's murder are too strong."
Kate knew that name. Rachel Thornton. She'd met her at a neighborhood association meeting last year. She was a sharp woman with an easy laugh who'd introduced herself and her husband James. They lived in one of the larger houses at the end of Willow Ridge, the kind with a wraparound porch and mature trees in the yard. Kate had seen Rachel jogging past her house a few times in the early mornings, always with earbuds in and a focused expression.
"I know her," Kate said quietly. "Not well, but we're neighbors."
DeMarco's expression shifted to concern. "Kate, I didn't realize. God, I’m sorry.”
“Do you want me to take it?” Sloane asked. Her tone has softened in the presence of the personal connection.
“Yes. And Kate…”
"If you want Sloane to take this case,” Kate said, “I'll go with her. At least for the initial scene assessment."
