Chapter Thirteen
"I think you have taken up more than enough of Mr. Bright's time," Meredith stared down Gibbons, Walker and Swanson across the interview table.
Malcolm distractedly wondered if anyone was annoyed to have a conference room tied up so long. Meredith Ramsey had refused to allow this conversation to take place in an interrogation room as if Malcolm were a criminal especially since he worked here. Gil brought the matter to his bosses, and they agreed so they had been in the conference room for two hours. He shifted his numb butt around on the chair. His ankle was in the process of murdering him for having it down for so long and his temper ran so hot and wild he struggled to rein it in. He deserved a medal for keeping his voice as calm as it was but he had his right hand pinned between the arm of the chair and his thigh to keep it from shaking.
"He still hasn't given us adequate answers," Gibbons replied and Malcolm honestly had no idea what in the name of god the man wanted of him. Gibbons had been on his firing board along with Walker. Had that not been punishment enough? Did they somehow believe he had a dozen dead bodies under his floorboards? Maybe he should have let them into his loft so they could take a deep sniff around for decay. Neither of them were profilers like Swanson who had never liked him, seeing him as always believing women were responsible for men's misdeeds. Sometimes mothers did shape killers. Sometimes fathers. He didn't believe, for the most part, people were born evil though his own father gave him pause in that regard.
"What haven't I answered?" he asked, and Meredith shot him a harsh 'keep your mouth shut' look.
"About your connection to Paul Lazar."
"I have. He claims to be a friend of my father's and I believe him. He kept my father's station wagon for two decades as either insurance or more likely a trophy. He shot at me in that junkyard. He called my mother's home and I foolishly followed him into a subway tunnel," Malcolm said for about the thirtieth time that afternoon.
"And lied about it," Walker sneered, her pale face blotchy with her own raging temper.
Malcolm glanced at Meredith. She had already given him permission to address that idiocy of his but he wanted to quadruple check it. She nodded and for the fourth time he replied, "I was embarrassed and rattled when I made my report to Lieutenant Arroyo. I should have died in that tunnel. I let the Lieutenant down and I was ashamed to tell him that I had to beg for my life and say whatever it took to make Lazar let me go. He was obviously fond of my father and me explaining about my father telling me about murder mollified him. He gave me a chance I didn't deserve."
"That's the part that puzzles me," Colette Swanson said, honestly sounding it. At the moment, she didn't have the anger her coworkers did. Oh, she still didn't like him; he could tell but Lazar's letting him go had engaged her profiler's mind.
"I don't fit his mission but he made it clear next time he iwill/i kill me," Malcolm replied. "And he claims I've met him."
"But you conveniently can't remember," Gibbons ground out. "Just like you were conveniently catatonic when we needed to talk to you last time."
"Trust me, there was nothing convenient about it," Malcolm snapped back and under the table, Meredith put a hand on his knee in warning. "I've told you all I know. I swear. All I remember of him is from my night terrors. I remember running in the woods. I can't tell you why and I've already speculated on it."
"Which I told you not to," Meredith cut in, squeezing his knee harder.
"I know but I think in order to understand Lazar, Colette especially needs to know what I think and that is I believe Lazar and my father did kill as a duo at least that once. Did they take me out there to try to induct me into their killing team? I think so but it could all be a dream. I know that doesn't make you happy. It sure as hell doesn't make ime/i happy. I didn't remember Lazar until he called my mother's house. I still don't have much of a mental image of him and I had our sketch artist draw that up before you even came on board. I've told you where to look for potential suspects."
"I'm not sure one hospital is going to turn out two serial killers," Walker said.
"Bright might be on to something. There is precedence for killers meeting at work. Whitly was a premiere surgeon," Collette contradicted her. "He had a notoriously busy schedule. If the testimony of a kid and his mother is to be believed, when not at the hospital, Whitly spent most of his time at home until the end when she believed he was having an affair. It would make sense he'd find a partner where he spent most of his time."
"I agree," Malcolm said. "I've done what you asked and stayed away and now I'm sidelined for months with these injuries. I'm willing to help go over the evidence with you but you don't want me to. If you change your mind, I can do that here in the office."
"But you won't tell us what went on in those woods. If you took part in a murder," Gibbons said.
Meredith held up a hand. "He's already told you all he knows about that incident if it even happened."
"I idon't/i remember. I was a child who was repeatedly drugged by my father after that camping trip and finding the girl in the box. You don't believe me and I can't change that." Malcolm shrugged. "Talk to my father. He knows what happened. He won't tell you. He won't even be honest about that with me but you can try."
"We got nowhere with him," Walker said.
"Not surprised."
"You do realize that Lazar has killed again and you're not being helpful," Gibbons growled.
"I'm being as helpful as I can, and yes I do but I was in the hospital with no contact with him. I didn't kidnap Eve and take her to him. You've seen the videos of what happened. I can take my shirt off and prove that it wasn't faked. She sliced me up like a holiday ham." Malcolm took a deep breath trying to calm himself back down.
"And this conversation is circling. He's answered all this already. Mr. Bright isn't responsible for Paul Lazar's actions. He's not on the case at your insistence. We're done here," Meredith said.
She stood and Malcolm followed her lead. It was true. He'd had helped as much as he could, put himself in the frame with his honesty about the dream and what he thought it meant, and if it had helped, he couldn't say. He couldn't do any more damage to himself nor help them more than he had. He limped heavily on his cane, feeling their gaze burning into his back. One of them, Gibbons he thought, made a disgusted sound as if he thought Malcolm was putting the limp on.
Malcolm didn't even look back. He had to let it go. They were never going to forgive him for being his father's son. He had a team that accepted him now and that's all that mattered. Gil's office door was open but the curtains were pulled. Malcolm knew that was for him, a safe haven. All he had to do was hobble his way over to it. Meredith murmured something about excusing herself for a bathroom break but he paid her no mind. Dani was at another detective's desk but Malcolm didn't know the woman. Dani glanced his way, scowling at something behind him. He tossed a look over his shoulder and saw all three FBI agents following him but it seemed to be Colette that Dani was concentrating on. They must have had some interactions.
Not sure he was up to talking to anyone, he planned on walking past Dani. She'd follow him into Gil's office without him asking based in the morning's discussion. She widened her eyes looking ready to say something. Before he could ask, he heard someone's loud excited voice just before that someone collided with him. The young detective hadn't been paying attention to where he was going and he lost his extremely full coffee cup all over Malcolm most of it draining right into his surgical boot. Malcolm yelped at the same time the man cried out, "I am so sorry!"
"Bright!" Dani ran to him, steadying him as he shifted his weight off the booted foot.
Suddenly JT was there too, taking Malcolm's weight against him as Dani knelt to rapidly work the Velcro straps so she could get the sopping boot off his foot.
"I am so sorry," the young detective said again.
"Hey Westfall, do you know who you just scalded," someone called from across the squad room.
The horror filling Westfall's eyes hurt more than the blistering hot coffee. Malcolm knew rumors hung around the station about him, like cobwebs at Halloween. Someone had told this young man horror stories about him, probably heavy on his father's bad deeds.
"Dudek, shut up," Dani snapped as Gil ran out of his office and helped JT support Malcolm so he didn't have to put his injured foot on the ground. She handed the boot to the female detective she'd been talking to. "Krista, can you take this to the rest room and put it under the dryer so I can help get the wet bandages off Bright's foot."
"Sure." Krista took it and walked toward the rest room.
Hating he needed help, Malcolm resigned himself to letting them all but carry him into Gil's office and put him on the couch. He didn't have to be told to get his foot up. Gil jammed a pillow under it but kept his hand between Malcolm's foot and the pillow to keep it dry. Out of the corner of his eye, Malcolm spotted Captain Sciarra, one of Gil's bosses hovering in the corner of the office. She must have been talking to Gil – probably about him – when the accident happened.
"The dressings are wet," Gil said. "Dani, there are scissors in my desk drawer."
She nodded. "JT, want to call Edrisa and see if she wants to come reapply the dressing until we get Bright home and his nurse can check him out."
"Will do."
"I'm really sorry," Westfall said again, clinging to the door frame as if he wasn't sure what to do."
Malcolm held out a hand toward him. "Detective Westfall isn't it?" he asked and the young man bobbed his head. "I'm okay. It was an accident, right? You didn't purposely pour coffee all over me."
"No of course not," he said as Dani started cutting away the drenched dressing. Captain Sciarra brought over the garbage can for her.
"Then stop apologizing. I'm fine and you're freaking me out a little." Malcolm smiled, trying to hold the smile steady as the stitches pulled, stuck to the dressing, making him ache. He dug out his wallet and pulled out a twenty. "Go get yourself another coffee."
Westfall didn't come into the office. He eyed the money suspiciously. "I couldn't do that."
"Sure you can. I got in the way and we crashed. It's the least I can do. If you feel it was your fault then get me a coffee while you're at it." Malcolm didn't know if he could rehab his reputation around the station with one small gesture but it was worth a try. Captain Sciarra took it all in silently but her expression seemed favorable at least.
Westfall came in, not meeting Gil's gaze after a quick look at the lieutenant. "Thanks. I appreciate it. What would you like, Mr. Bright?"
Malcolm shrugged. "I live off sugar. Anything sweet works for me. I'm easy ah!" He jerked as Dani's fingers brushed a very sensitive part of his ankle. She had the dressing off and Gil rested Malcolm's ankle on the pillow. Sciarra scowled at the swollen appendage.
Westfall glanced at the wound, paling a bit. "That looks…"
"Fine," Dani interrupted him, probably afraid Malcolm would cry again like he had this morning.
He was too damn angry to cry at this point, especially spotting Colette, Walker and Gibbons crowding the door. "It's healing," he said. "If you get me a latte, 2 percent milk please, but I prefer mochas."
"Of course, you do," JT said and Malcolm summoned up enough of his natural sarcasm to roll his eyes.
"I can get you that. I'll be back. It might take a few minutes. There's usually a line," Westfall said.
"That's fine," Gil said, shooing him off.
Westfall broke through the FBI line and Edrisa came in the other way before they could regroup. Colette moved in her wake. Gil shot her a warning look as Edrisa sat on the floor and opened a sack of dressings, alcohol and scissors. Sciarra parked herself against the edge of Gil's desk, just watching like a hawk. Malcolm could see the wheels turning and doubted she'd do much to draw attention to herself. She wanted to see what the FBI was about to do.
"That looks ugly." Colette flicked a hand toward his ankle.
"I assumed you watched the video of what Mallory did to me. What did you think it would look like?" Malcolm sniped, his patience fraying. "Or did you all decide that it was faked because she and I are somehow working with Lazar? Or that I've invented bad deeds to pin on a woman and did this to myself."
"You have a history with your mommy issues," Colette replied.
Dani stood up, facing off with her. "I've worked with you now for a few days while Bright was in the hospital. I'm beginning to wonder if you're any good at your job or that interested in doing it," she snapped and Colette reared back ready to snarl but Dani continued, "If you were a competent profiler, you'd know all of Bright's issues are daddy ones. I've watched him with his mother interacting for days now and they're close. I'm sure they have their fights but sometimes women do bad shit too. It's not the solo providence of men. And while you three are busy trying to burn Bright at the stake, are you making any progress on the Lazar case other than to incite him to kill again?"
"You tell them, Dani," Edrisa said, sponging the coffee off Malcolm's foot. Dani shot her a wry grin.
"Dani, it's not worth it. You're not going to change their minds," Malcolm said. "It's okay."
"For them to treat you like garbage? No, it's not. I got hijacked into helping them and when I realized they were far more interested in putting the blame on you, I decided I'd much rather be doing anything else." She stabbed a hand at Colette and the others. Behind their backs, Captain Sciarra thinned her lips, perhaps regretting having assigned Dani to help the FBI but probably had little choice. "I want to help find Lazar but what have we really done to do that?"
"We have done something," Colette said, her face hot. "We needed to go back to the beginning to see it with fresh eyes."
"That works when a case has gone cold. We just found Lazar's killing grounds when you came here and took over. What you mean is you want to throw out everything our team has done, everything that Bright suggested and go at it another way," Dani said, her voice going arctic. "I'm not saying looking at it from a different angle is wrong but you dismissed everything Bright suggested and given his track record with our team, I think that's foolish."
"I've worked with him in D.C.," Colette replied, her tone as hot as Dani's was cold. "He's destructive."
"You forgot a word," Dani said, and Colette cocked her head. "Self. He's iself/i destructive. He runs into danger too easily."
"And how long before that gets you or Detective Tarmel killed?" Walker interjected.
"Did he get anyone killed in the FBI? If so, that's news to us," JT said, shocking Malcolm.
"He's not a team player," Colette said.
"He is ihere/i," Dani countered.
"Because you and JT didn't automatically dismiss me because I'm the Surgeon's son," Malcolm said, knowing that in fact they nearly had. They hadn't wanted him in the beginning because of it but Gil wouldn't allow them to force him to the periphery and with a little time he had won them over a little at least. However, he wasn't about to tell Colette that. "I can't be a team player when ino one/i wants me on the team. You put me on the outside from the moment I graduated from Quantico. I was unwelcomed and I knew it. Ironically both Lieutenant Arroyo and my own father warned me it would happen but I naively thought my skills, my insights would matter. But all you ever let me be was the Surgeon's Son, waiting for the day when the prodigal would come home and be just like his father. You never gave me credit for the empathy I have. That alone separates me from sociopaths like Martin Whitly. At least Detectives Powell and Tarmel trust me enough to give me a chance."
"And they may regret it," Colette replied.
"That's their concern. Right now, I'd like to know why you're in my office harassing Bright especially when you have work to do and his lawyer isn't here," Gil said calmly as Captain Sciarra straightened up, looking ready to join the fray, and then he cast a glance at Malcolm. "Where is she?"
"Rest room," he said just as Edrisa finished with the bandages and started to pack up.
"I'd appreciate it if you'd leave my office so I can do my work and you can do yours," Gil added.
The phone rang before any of them could reply. Malcolm watched Gil's color fade and it slowly sank in that was the phone Lazar used that they had a trap and trace on.
"Answer it," Gibbons ordered, pointing to Walker. "The rest of you get out."
"It's imy/i office and Bright can't walk until Krista brings back his boot. I'm not carrying him through the station like a child," Gil said.
'iAgain/i,' Malcolm thought, and then said, "We'll stay out of the conversation but you need to answer that phone. You ishould/i let me talk to him."
"Not happening, Bright," Colette said as Walker picked up the phone and handed it to Gibbons.
"Hello," he said, thumbing on the speaker phone option. "Is this Paul?"
"Now who is this?" Lazar's voice echoed from the phone syrupy and mocking.
"Special agent Gibbons."
"I have no interest in you. Put Malcolm on."
"You'll be speaking to /ime/i," Gibbons replied, color inching up his face.
Lazar chuckled "I think not. I iknow/i Malcolm is in the building."
Malcolm shivered at the arctic front moving into him as he exchanged glances with Gil. Lazar was close. Gibbons gestured to Walker who exited the room ostensibly to get the cops out there sweeping the area. Sciarra closed the door, leaning against it. She glared at Gibbons.
"Malcom Bright has nothing to do with this," Gibbons said, ignoring Sciarra.
"Are you an idiot? He's the reason I'm calling. He's been a bad boy or at least from what I heard at the Wired Puppy from the two lady FBI agents. They were laughing about the two women who spent the night with him last night."
Gil and Malcolm exchanged glances as Edrisa dropped her bag of dressings. Dani thinned her lips, her fists clenching.
"What base behavior. Who knew little Malcolm would turn out to be such a sinner? He might benefit from some time with me." Lazar chuckled darkly.
Malcolm licked his lips, his mouth dry as a frigid winter day. "The FBI is watching my place? Good to know," he said loudly enough for Lazar to hear him. Gibbons' face purpled.
"Malcolm, there you are." Lazar drew out his name in an eerie echo of the way Martin Whitly said it. Malcolm didn't have to guess where he got that affectation from.
"I'm here for now, Paul. Did the agents mention that my mentor was also at my place as was my mother? They obviously made last night sound like a salacious and tawdry threesome. I don't care so much on my behalf but I deeply resent the agents smearing the name of a good detective and a doctor. It was mean spirited and unprofessional because I iknow/i they were well aware I wasn't having some incestuous orgy with my imother/i," Malcolm fought to keep his voice leveled out, to bite back on his fury. He glared at Walker and Colette. The latter of whom had the good grace to look embarrassed but was it because of her part in bashing him Dani and Edrisa or because she now knew that Lazar had been in a coffee shop within earshot and she hadn't noticed him? Had he changed his appearance?
"They did not mention your mother was there. I wouldn't have thought so lowly of you had I known."
"That's enough," Gibbons said. "Bright, I will have you removed from the room if you don't shut up. You're impeding this."
"The FBI doesn't want me talking to you because they think you and I are colluding. They've considered that I might possibly know where you are and I'm not telling them because I'm picking up where my father left off."
"Now that's a laugh. Listen Special Agent Gibbons, I'm not talking to anyone but Malcolm. If you make him leave, the conversation is at an end. If you let us talk, maybe you'll learn something."
"Do it," Sciarra said.
Gibbons gritted his teeth and slashed a hand at Malcolm. "Fine."
"Now isn't that better? So, Malcolm, you got taken. I saw it on the television."
Malcolm sat up on the couch, putting his foot down gingerly since he hadn't the boot to protect him. "Julissa Lostetter's daughter wanted to make me pay for what my father had done."
"Is it true what the lady agents said about her using sex to catch you?"
"A simplification but yes," Malcolm said, his hand beginning to tremble. "I'm so glad that my love life is such a great topic of conversation that people who barely know me can talk about it so much." He shot them another glare. They wouldn't meet his eyes.
"You suspected nothing? You must not have known her well. What would your father say if he knew how loose you are with women?" Lazard mocked him, unwittingly preying on Malcolm's own fears and recriminations. Hadn't he blamed himself for falling into bed with Eve so quickly and getting captured? Hating himself, he couldn't stop a few silent tears streaking down his face right in front of everyone. He hated Gibbons and the others saw his pain. "Maybe I wasn't hasty in thinking you were delivered to me to deal with. I thought maybe you were put in my path to help me or stop me but maybe it was for me to purify you."
Out of the corner of his eye, Malcolm saw everyone's ears perk up. "I'm here to stop you, Paul. I did find your last hiding hole."
"Because you're like me and your father but for the FBI in the room, you're not enough like us. You're a little coward."
"I'm not a coward," Malcolm said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "And I did nothing wrong with Eve. I thought she was a friend."
"I can hear it in your voice, the fear and guilt. You know you did wrong. You're afraid of the consequences. How long did you know her, Malcolm?"
Gil shook his head at Malcolm but he answered Lazar anyhow. "It was our first date but that doesn't mean we didn't have a connection. It just wasn't the connection I thought it was." He ground his fist against his eye.
"You keep telling yourself that. And you had other visitors, didn't you, Malcolm? An old lady and a younger one but at least they didn't spend the night."
Next to him, JT stiffened, fury etched into his face. Malcolm's hand shook, unable to be calmed by his usual method. "Are you following the FBI, Paul? Or did they just do the debriefing at the damn coffee shop?"
"You have interesting friends, Malcolm. Are they as permissive and dirty as you?"
Malcolm laughed, bitter as green berries. "Not me, Paul. I have no friends. What the FBI saw, no matter what they made it sound like, were co-workers bringing me food so I'd have ready-made meals as I deal with what happened to me. It's what cops do when someone needs help. Trust me, right now there is a detective running errands for me because he's afraid of what the son of the surgeon will do to him if he doesn't. No friends, Paul, just people too afraid of me to even think of being friends. The way the FBI agents were no doubt mocking me should have been a clue."
Paul chuckled. "They do seem to hate you. Did you date the black lady agent? She has that hate for you that intimacy breeds."
"We went on a couple dates but were never lovers. We have vastly different philosophies and understandings of the world and she definitely saw me as the enemy very quickly. I can forgive her that." He wiped his cheeks and Colette pinned him with her hot glare. "But I can't forgive putting a target on innocent people. You leave those ladies from last night be, Paul. They don't fit your mission at all."
"Why do you care if they aren't friends?"
"Empathy, Paul. I ihave/I it. The FBI doesn't understand that. They accused me of being just like my father."
"You told me that much yourself."
"Because you were snapping my ribs! I lied to make you stop but I'm not exactly like you," he snarled.
"No you aren't. You don't have the integrity. Lying, snooping, fornicating, you are a bad boy, Malcolm, no better than an animal. Did you lie to her to make her let you go?"
"No, she didn't ask me anything. She needed nothing of me other than to suffer and die like her mother had."
"She hurt you bad. I saw you with your cane and boot. She broke you like a wild horse and I'm betting you didn't make it hard. Like I said earlier, you always were a little coward. That was a shock on our camping trip, that Martin's prized little boy could be so craven. Do you have any idea how proud your father was of how brilliant you were? How disappointed he was when you ran after just a little blood. Hell, I was the one bleeding after you stuck me. Who could have guessed it would send you running blind through the woods at night like a little sissy."
"That wasn't cowardice, normal people normal kids don't want to stab people," Malcolm said softly hating the conformation of his worst nightmares were real and so very public. All of them were staring at him like he was a monster. He had stabbed Lazar? How could he have forgotten that? Why had he done it?
"What's normal, Malcolm? People like you, rutting indiscriminately, shooting yourself up with heroin, selling yourself for a taste of it?"
"Like you mother did?" Malcolm interjected, squirming to the edge of the couch.
"She was no mother," Lazar screamed. Malcolm managed a triumphant look for Colette, feeling a bit petty as he savored her sour look.
"Did you know we talked about killing you that night? That's why we were there. We were going to kill you. It would have been so easy. You ran off, afraid of a noise in the night and you raced off a cliff. Your mother would have believed that. Or maybe you fell out of the boat and drowned but Martin loved you too much. Truth be told, I liked you too. Martin was sure he could keep you quiet. Didn't have to, did he? You were such a coward, you blocked out all memory of that night, including me. Isn't that what you said?"
Wilting under the harsh gaze of his companions, Malcolm scrubbed a hand over his trembling lips. "I don't remember you or that trip. My father didn't think I was a coward Paul, though he did say fear was my stumbling block."
"Same difference." Lazar snorted. "Did you kill the person who took you? Or did you botch it like you did with me? Have you ever killed anyone or did you just keep disappointing your father?"
"I killed a man with the FBI." Malcolm fought to ignore JT, Dani and Edrisa's stares. "I didn't mean to. I shot him in the shoulder but he ended up going septic and died."
"Did you feel excited?"
Damn, Paul sounded so smug. "I wept for days. I felt horrible. I didn't want him to die. I'm known for talking people down, to get them to surrender. And no, I didn't kill Eve, no matter what she did to me. I'm helping her lawyer get her into a psychiatric hospital, instead of jail."
"Sounds more like you need the psychiatric hospital, Malcolm, because that's a crazy response to being kidnapped and tortured."
"Again, it's called empathy. My father destroyed Eve's life."
"Would you show me empathy if I take you for a little alone time, Malcolm, or that mother of yours?"
Fire lit up his face as he clenched his hand. Gil stepped over to him but Malcolm shrugged him off. "Come at my family, Paul, and I'll show you exactly all the things my father taught me."
The delight in Lazar's laugh sickened him. "That's the man Martin wanted you to be. Well, this has been fun and I'm sure there're cops swarming around like someone stirred a hive with a stick. I'll call you, Malcolm, if I don't see you first."
He hung up before Malcolm could respond. All eyes were on him. Malcolm met JT's gaze. The worry in his dark eyes took Malcolm's knees out from under him. Malcolm swore he literally felt his color flee. Sweat popped out all over him. The shakes migrated from his hand to the rest of him.
"I'm sorry, JT. I'm so sorry," he whispered, barely able to hear himself as if he were wrapped in a dozen blankets. "They're in danger because of me."
"Not you, bro. Your buddies in the FBI," JT growled. "Hey, you okay?"
No, he wasn't but Malcolm couldn't answer. The room spun around him, twisting him like wet clay. All he could see was Etta Tarmel dead in a car crusher because of him. Vaguely aware of Dani and Gil calling his name, he tried to stand. Pain raced up his injured leg and Edrisa grabbed his arms, forcing him down.
"He's going into shock. Gil, do we have blankets? Coats? Anything? We need to get him warm. JT help me keep him seated," Edrisa ordered. "Malcolm, you can't stand up. You'll hurt your foot. Lie down on the couch."
Wasn't he lying down? He couldn't tell? His stomach lurched. Was that awful sound, like a car-struck animal, coming from him?
"Dani, garbage can," Edrisa barked as she swung his legs back up onto on the couch with him. She yanked his shoulders to the side so he could lean over the cushions, and then sat in the crook of his hips. iMan, she's stronger than she looks. Guess moving dead people does that for you,/i he thought, as ludicrous as it was.
Dani slammed the can down and not a moment too soon, Malcolm twisted and emptied himself into it. His stitches shrieked with the movement. He grabbed up the can, vomiting harder, his chin touching the lips of the can. When finally, nothing more came up, Gil thrust some tissues into Malcolm's hand. He wiped his mouth, trembling so hard, he could barely manage. The room morphed into a whirlwind again and Edrisa took his hand.
"Look at me, Malcolm," she said. "We need to focus on your breathing. Let's breathe together." She took a few deep breaths but iron bands surrounded his chest, robbing him of his air. "You do yoga. I know you're aware of dragon breathing. Try it for me, Malcolm." Edrisa closed off her left nostril with her thumb and breathed in through the right. She switched compression sides and breathed out the left. Gil draped a jacket around him as Malcolm struggled to follow Edrisa. After a few alternations, he managed to follow her until his awareness was solely on his breathing, the shaking slowed.
"There you go. Keep breathing nice and slow."
"That was one helluva show," Gibbons grumbled earning hot looks from Malcolm's team and Captain Sciarra.
"That's no show," Colette said, surprising him. "Look at Bright. His pupils are blown. He's diaphoretic and vomiting. He can fake the shaking but he can't fake autonomic fear responses. He's terrified and it's our fault."
"Yes it is," Gil said. "Now my team needs protecting."
"Yes, they do," Captain Sciarra said. "I'll start authorizing round the clock surveillance for everyone. The FBI should foot the bill. Let's go talk about this elsewhere."
"Don't you think we should discuss this now," Gibbons said, waving a hand between them and Malcolm. "He just spent all that time on the phone with a serial killer."
"What's to discuss?" Gil asked. "You heard what we all heard."
"He backed up what I told you," Malcolm whispered.
"And no one finds that suspicious?"
"No, because we know Bright is not working with Lazar," Dani said. "Apparently he stabbed Lazar, probably because they were going to kill him."
"So much for the empathy and helping the one who hurt you," Gibbons sniped. "What a load of crap you sold him about Lostetter."
"Actually, he had instructed Meredith Ramsey to find someone willing to represent Mallory Lostetter and see if the D.A. would be willing to put her in a high security psych hospital," Gil said, throwing open his door. "Go ask her if you don't believe me."
Gibbons stalked out followed by Walker and Swanson. Captain Sciarra went with them. Malcolm put his shaking hand over his mouth, trying to ignore the sour taste inside it.
"I'm so sorry, JT. I never meant to put your family in danger."
"It wasn't your fault." JT clasped a hand on Malcolm's shoulder. "They'll be okay."
Malcolm knew they couldn't guarantee that but he wasn't going to take that hope away from JT. He let himself be distracted by Krista returning with his boot and Detective Westfall coming in, two cups in hand with Jessica Whitly on his arm. What in the hell? Malcolm blinked at them as he struggled to sit up. His mother's face fell, her nose wrinkling up.
"It smells like vomit in here. What did they ido/i to him, Gil?" she demanded to know.
"I'll tell you in a moment, Jess," Gil said as Dani took the boot off Krista with thanks. Krista took a look at the tableau in Arroyo's office and left after surrendering the boot.
Dani put it on Malcolm's foot as Westfall edged in closer, his eyes wide. Malcolm wasn't sure what he thought was about to happen.
"I got you a salted caramel mocha. I hope that's okay." Westfall looked around. "Is this a really bad time to give it to you?"
"It's not a great time but that's not your fault." Malcolm held out a hand. "Thank you, that sounds delicious. I appreciate it."
"I'm sorry about scalding your foot." Westfall held out the change but Malcom put up a hand. Westfall scowled and set it on the table.
"It was an accident. You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not my father."
"He's really not," his mother said.
Westfall glanced at her. "You know him?"
She smiled her cat got the canary smile. "I'm a bit familiar with him."
"She's my mother, Detective Westfall. I'm not sure how you got to talking…"
"The door was closed and we were told to keep away," she replied. "I'm hoping someone will tell me what's going on soon. Anyhow we were chatting while we waited."
"Really? His mother? You don't look old enough." Westfall flushed. "What I mean is."
His mother patted Westfall's arm. "You can stop there and thank you for the compliment."
"I better get back to work. And thank you for being cool about the accident." Westfall saluted Malcolm with his own coffee cup before heading out.
"You're welcome," Malcolm called after him. "Mother, what iare/iyou doing here?"
"I thought you might need moral support, and from the smell of this room and the look on your face, I was right." She scowled at Gil. "Now that everyone but us is gone, can you tell me what happened?"
"I will. Why don't you sit?" He gestured to the couch next to Malcolm.
Edrisa moved from her spot on the couch so his mother could sit. "Malcolm, are you going to drink that?"
He nodded. "I think I can handle it and the sugar might help."
"Okay then I'll take the trash bag down to the red bag disposal in my lab." She rooted in the dressings bag and came up with gloves.
"You're going to get tired of dealing with my sick stomach really fast," he muttered, deeply embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Edrisa."
"It's all right. Again, not nearly the grossest thing I'll do all day." She flashed him a reassuring smile.
"No, I meant, I'm sorry you're a target now too. I never meant for any of this to happen."
"Target?" his mother asked, and he raised a hand to her.
Edrisa waved him off, and then grabbed up the trash bag, tying it off. "Like JT said, not your fault. I'm sure I'll be fine. And while I'm busy today and tonight, I'll be around tomorrow with some more food."
He shook his head violently. "No, I can't let you take that risk."
"The good thing is, you don't control me." She gave him a knowing look. "I get to make that choice. Besides, your place will be buttoned up tight. It'll be safe. We can play Clue this time or I can bring Cards Against Humanity. This really seems like a good time for that."
Malcolm bowed his head, knowing he wasn't going to win that. "I've always wanted to try that game, thanks."
"Good. I'll see you then." She wiggled her fingers at him and disappeared out the door.
JT shook his head. "You and she are going to have the smartest, weirdest kids ever."
With that JT broke the tension and left Malcolm giggling on the edge of hysteria. Gathering his scattered wits, Malcolm rolled his eyes toward JT. "Hey, JT." When Tarmel looked, Malcolm flipped him off. JT burst into laughter.
Malcolm's mother slapped his hand. "Malcolm! I taught you better."
"Leave him be." JT held his sides, still chuckling. "That's the first normal thing I've ever seen him do."
She shot him a sour look. "Will someone tell me what is going on?"
"Mother." He took her hand. "I want you and Ains to go on vacation. Rome is nice this time of year. Hawaii too."
"What are you talking about?"
"I don't care where you go, just go. Escort Etta and Tally to Savannah for all I care. iJust go./i" He hated the shrill tone of his panic.
"Malcolm, what is wrong? You're scaring me."
"You should be scared, Jessica," Gil said.
"Paul Lazar called. He made veiled threats about coming after everyone at my place last night. He heard the FBI gossiping about me," Malcolm babbled, anger boiling out of him. "He was ihere/i just down the block. He will ikill/i you or Ainsley. Worse, Dani, Edrisa, Etta, Tally, all of them were targeted."
"Oh my god!" His mother squeezed his hand hard. "He's inot/i running me out of my home."
"Why?" His voice broke. "You take vacations. Take one now, damn it. Take me with you! I need to recover anyhow. I can do that in Vegas or London. Let's just go."
"We'll discuss this later," she replied in a tone that said 'no, they wouldn't talk about it'."
"Please, it's bad enough that everyone needs police protection."
"And that's not negotiable, Jess," Gil interjected and she arched her eyebrows at him.
"And like Edrisa, I'm not leaving you alone, Bright. Me and my gun are going to be in your loft tonight," Dani said, and he shut his eyes tight. He didn't want any of this. No one should risk themselves for him. "Safety in numbers."
"Then maybe we should stay at my house," Jessica said.
Malcolm shook his head. "Lazar has ibeen/i there. He knows the house. He doesn't know my loft. We'll be safer there if more crowded. You'll have to be sure I'm restrained at night because no one needs me sleep walking in the middle of a night terror with guns around."
"I hate this." His mother's lips trembled. "I hate that you have to be chained to your bed. I hate that ianother/i serial killer is after us. I hate that you were tortured by your father's victim. He has destroyed so much of our lives."
"And maybe we should be sure he can't destroy more by getting out of here for a little while," he said.
"We'll discuss it later, not here," she repeated, pulling him close. "Where's Ainsley? Is she safe?"
"We're tracking her down now," Gil said. "With her job, she's in the public eye, not an easy target. We'll send someone to keep her safe and bring her to Malcolm's as soon as she can. I need to talk to Captain Sciarra and make sure the team is protected."
"Good." She stroked Malcolm's hair. "Why don't you shut your eyes and rest, son? At least until Gil can do what he needs to and then we can go home. You need to relax. That had to have been a bad panic attack."
"It was," he said, folding up against her. Malcolm couldn't shut his eyes as he rested his cheek on her shoulder.
Colette popped back into the office. "Lieutenant Arroyo, the captain wants to speak with you." Her gaze cut over to Malcolm but he didn't pick his head up off his mother's shoulder.
"Told you that you were wrong about his mommy issues," Dani said.
"And you're taken in easily. He's an angry man."
"I am," Malcolm said. "And so are you. I know it. I admit it. You don't. It clouds your judgment and while you're good at your job the anger, the arrogance and the disdain for men keeps you from being great."
"You're wrong," she said. "And I'm not sure I believe you about your plans for Mallory Lostetter either."
"I don't care." This time he did shut his eyes, and listened to Gil chivvy her out. He didn't sleep, too worked up about JT's family, his own, his friends. Malcolm wasn't sure he'd sleep again any time soon. All he wanted to do was go home, burrow in and protect what was his.