Chapter 1
The most humiliating part of Kate's FBI internship experience was that by the end of it she had memorized everyone's coffee order. When she had applied for the job, the young college senior had held her breath in anticipation, daring to hope against hope that she would be assigned to the task force that dealt with the Jigsaw killings. When the letter of confirmation had arrived at her run-down apartment she'd screamed with joy, elated at the chance to get her foot in the door at the Bureau. To prove herself. Unfortunately the only thing she'd "proved" six months into the internship was that she could make a decent pot of coffee. After relocating from the University of Alabama to New York City Kate had found the Bureau buzzing like a hive of angry bees over the latest developments in the case, most notably the escape of both Agent Peter Strahm (cream, one sugar) and Detective Hoffman (black, two sugars) from one of Jigsaw's cruelest traps yet. Kate Hamilton had been excited to be in the thick of things. To get right in the middle of the action at the Bureau, to work with people who had stared death in the face and lived to tell about it.
At first it had been exciting. Despite the fact that she lived in an assigned matchbox and her stipend was so miniscule she could have almost qualified for food stamps, Kate rode the endorphin rush of being assigned to work under Peter Strahm and Lindsey Perez. It didn't matter that her I.D. badge had the word "INTERN" emblazoned across it in harsh red letters or that no one could remember her name. She faithfully clipped the badge to a professional-looking suit every morning and eventually persuaded the other people at the FBI building to simply call her K.
Unfortunately, the first kink in her plan to rise to the top came with the revelation that Peter Strahm was missing. The department was in chaos, and Kate walked around feeling like she had a target on her back that first day. No one had her fetch them coffee, not even the police officers, who normally seemed to derive a sense of satisfaction from it. Everyone ignored her. The death of Perez and the elopement of Strahm from the legal system had everyone fearing the worst. It made her skin crawl. She would have slept with a gun if one had been issued to her, and even toyed with the idea of buying one herself. After all, she was 21…but getting a gun might not go over so well with the FBI. No one really knew what to do with her. She was an intern. A paper pusher, coffee grabber, computer fixer. But no one could trust her, even though she jumped at the slightest sound and was constantly afraid of being snatched, being tested, and dying a horrible death.
No one could trust her. That's why she was here now, in the limbo of the FBI's break room, getting coffee only for herself. She never thought she'd miss the days of being everyone's gopher. Kate poured herself a cup of coffee and morosely stared into its black depths, stirring in a packet of creamer and some sugar. When she'd tossed away the paper packets Kate turned and flinched. Detective Hoffman stood in front of her, his arms crossed over his standard three-piece suit. Her grip tightened on the cup but she gave no other indication of being shocked.
"Hello detective," Kate said neutrally, taking a sip of the hot liquid and moving out of the way of the coffee machine, which she assumed he came in to use.
"How are you holding up, K?"
At his light tone and negligence of the FBI's caffeine, Kate knew she was in trouble. She leaned against the black granite countertop and shrugged, her heart rate rapidly accelerating. It wasn't as if she had done anything wrong, but the icy blue stare of Mark Hoffman was damning nonetheless.
"Pretty well. Agent Strahm…well, I suppose I had him pegged wrong."
"We all did. Don't beat yourself up over it."
She nodded and continued to sip her coffee, looking out of the window at the beautiful sunny day. K was still on red alert and Detective Hoffman still seemed to be waiting for something, though he was silent as he ambled over and poured his own cup.
"He was your primary supervisor, right?"
"Yeah."
Digging. He was wondering something, probably wondering about Strahm, wondering if Strahm had recruited her, wondering if Kate Hamilton's hands were red with the blood of Jigsaw's victims. Wondering if she was in on it from the beginning. She wasn't. But there was no way for him to know that, to get inside her head.
"I didn't know Agent Strahm that well," she continued, "I mostly just stapled reports for him and filled the company car up with gas."
She was rewarded with a smirk and a raised eyebrow from Hoffman but he was still listening. It wasn't enough. And to top it off, she probably sounded like an ungrateful brat.
"Not that I didn't appreciate the opportunity for this internship," Kate added quickly, "I did—do. But I was really surprised to hear about Agent Strahm's involvement. And it just makes me wonder if I could be put in one of the traps, or if he dug through my life to see if I didn't cherish it or something. I know it's stupid but"—
"It's not," Detective Hoffman replied, not unkindly, "Some paranoia is understandable, but…I'm pretty sure you won't be tested. If it makes you feel any better."
Kate let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and mirrored his smile, glancing down into her Styrofoam cup for a moment before looking back up and smoothing back stray strand of dark blond hair that had come loose from her bun.
"By the way, Erickson wants to see you in his office," Hoffman continued, "He'll probably grill you about Agent Strahm, but don't worry about it. I know you're not involved. But…between you and me, there's nothing about Peter Strahm that you need me to know about, right? No weird behaviors, he didn't mention anything…"
"Nothing," she answered honestly, her wide blue eyes, so much darker than his, looking up at him with complete innocence.
"Okay good," the detective replied with a nod, turning to walk out of the break room, "I'll see you around. Come back by the police station and we'll see if we can find some reports for you to staple."
She smiled back at him again and he was gone, leaving as silently as he walked in. Kate took a deep breath and stared out the window, lost in thought for a brief moment before she threw away the rest of her coffee and started on the path to Agent Erickson's office. Some part of her was glad that she had been grilled by Hoffman—after all, he was the big hero of the Jigsaw case. If she had him on her side then Erickson shouldn't be much of a problem. In this case, at least, it seemed like honesty really was the best policy. Kate hoped that it would serve her well in the days to follow.
Author's Note: New story! I've had this for awhile but just stumbled across it today and thought I'd publish it. Let me know what you guys think of it so far, and any reviews/criticisms are greatly appreciated.