The Apprentice: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel

said.
    “Marquette called me into his office.”
    “He told me about it.”
    She stopped and looked at him. “Told you what?”
    “That one of your old perps is out.”
    “That’s right.”
    “And that’s shaken you up.”
    “Marquette told you that, too?”
    “No. But since you didn’t come back to the meeting, I assumed you were upset.”
    “Other matters required my attention.” She started to walk toward the building.
    “You are the lead on this case, Detective Rizzoli,” he called after her.
    She stopped, turned to look at him. “Why do you feel the need to remind me?”
    Slowly he walked toward her, until he was close enough to be intimidating. Perhaps that was his intention. They now stood face-to-face, and although she would never give ground, she couldn’t help flushing under his gaze. It was not just his physical superiority that made her feel threatened; it was her sudden realization that he was a desirable man—an utterly perverse reaction, in light of her anger. She tried to suppress the attraction, but it had already planted its claws and she could not shake it off.
    “This case is going to require your full attention,” he said. “Look, I do understand you’re upset about Warren Hoyt’s escape. It’s enough to rattle any cop. Enough to knock you off balance—”
    “You hardly know me. Don’t try to be my shrink.”
    “I just wonder if you’re feeling focused enough to head up this investigation. Or if you have other issues that will interfere.”
    She managed to hold her temper. To ask, quite calmly: “Do you know how many people Hoyt killed this morning? Three, Agent Dean. A man and two women. He slashed their throats, and he walked away, just like that. The way he always manages to do.” She raised her hands, and he stared at her scars. “These are the souvenirs he gave me last year, just before he was about to cut my throat.” She dropped her hands and laughed. “So yeah, you’re absolutely right. I do have issues with him.”
    “You also have a job to do. Right here.”
    “I’m doing it.”
    “You’re distracted by Hoyt. You’re letting him get in the way.”
    “The only issue that keeps getting in my way is
you.
I don’t even know what you’re doing here.”
    “Interagency cooperation. Isn’t that the party line?”
    “I’m the only one cooperating. What are you giving me in return?”
    “What is it you expect?”
    “You could start by telling me why the Bureau’s involved. It’s never stepped in on any of my cases before. What makes the Yeagers different? What do you know about them that I don’t?”
    “I know as much about them as you do,” he said.
    Was it the truth? She didn’t know. She couldn’t read this man. Now sexual attraction had added to her confusion, scrambling any and all messages between them.
    He looked at his watch. “It’s after three. They’re waiting for us.”
    He started toward the building, but she didn’t immediately follow him. For a moment she stood alone in the parking lot, shaken by her reaction to Dean. At last she took a breath and walked into the morgue, bracing herself for another visit with the dead.

    This one, at least, did not turn her stomach. The overpowering stench of putrefaction that had sickened her during the autopsy of Gail Yeager was largely absent from the second set of remains. Nevertheless, Korsak had taken his usual precautions and once again had smeared Vicks under his nose. Only a few bits of leathery connective tissue still adhered to the bones, and while the smell was certainly unpleasant, at least it did not send Rizzoli reeling for the sink. She was determined to avoid a repeat of last night’s embarrassing performance, especially with Gabriel Dean now standing directly across from her, able to watch every twitch on her face. She maintained a stoic front as Dr. Isles and the forensic anthropologist, Dr. Carlos Pepe, unsealed the box and carefully removed the skeletal remains, laying them on the sheet-draped morgue table.
    Sixty years old and bent like a gnome, Dr. Pepe was as excitable as a child as he lifted out the box’s contents, eyeing each item as though it were gold. While Rizzoli saw only a random collection of dirt-stained bones, as featureless as twigs from a tree, Dr. Pepe saw radii and ulnas and clavicles, which he efficiently identified and placed in anatomical position. Disarticulated ribs and breastbone clattered against the covered stainless steel. Vertebrae, two