Free The Naturals, Book 2: Killer Instinct by Jennifer Lynn Barnes Page B

reply.
    “Cassie, you don’t dislike anyone. The only time I’ve ever seen you get persnickety with someone was when Briggs assigned agents to dog your every move. But you disliked Agent
Sterling from the moment she showed up.”
    I had no intention of replying to that statement, either, but Michael didn’t
need
verbal replies. He was perfectly capable of carrying on conversations completely on his own,
reading my responses in my body language and the tiniest hints of expressions on my face.
    “She doesn’t like this program,” I said, just to get him to stop reading me so intently. “She doesn’t like us. And she really doesn’t like me.”
    “She doesn’t dislike you as much as you think she does.” Michael’s voice was quiet. I found myself leaning toward him, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear
more. “Agent Sterling isn’t fond of me, because I’m not fond of rules. She’s afraid to spend more than a few seconds looking at Dean, but she’s not scared
of
him. She actually likes Lia, even though Lia’s not any fonder of rules than I am. And Sloane reminds her of someone.”
    The difference between Michael’s gift and mine was as obvious as it had been playing poker. He saw so much that Sterling was trying to hide. But
why
she was hiding it—that was
a question for me.
    “How’s the studying coming along?”
    I glanced up at Judd, who stood in the doorway. He was a Marine, not a den mother. The question sounded completely foreign coming out of his mouth.
    “Haven’t started,” Michael replied flippantly at the exact same time that I said, “Almost done.”
    Judd arched an eyebrow at Michael, but didn’t push the issue. “You mind giving us a moment?” he asked instead.
    Michael cocked his head slightly to one side, taking in the expression on Judd’s face. “Do I have a choice?”
    Judd almost smiled. “That would be a no.”
    As Michael made his way out of the room, Judd crossed it and lowered himself onto the sofa next to me. He watched Michael go. Something about the way he tracked Michael’s progress made me
think he was forcing himself to take in the way Michael favored his injured leg.
    “You know why this program is restricted to cold cases?” Judd asked me once Michael was gone.
    “Because Dean was twelve when this program was started?” I suggested. “And because Director Sterling wants to minimize the chances of anyone finding out the program
exists?” Those were the easy answers. Judd’s silence pushed me into giving the hard one. “Because on active cases,” I said softly, “people get hurt.”
    “On active cases, people cross lines.” Judd took his time with the words. “Everything is urgent, everything is life-and-death.” He rubbed his thumb across the pads of his
fingers. “In the heat of battle, you do what needs to be done. You make sacrifices.”
    Judd was military. He didn’t use the word
battle
lightly.
    “You’re not talking about
us
crossing the lines,” I said, sorting through what I was hearing—and what I
knew
. “You’re talking about the
FBI.”
    “Could be I am,” Judd allowed.
    I tried to parse my way through Judd’s logic. Reading interviews, going through witness statements, looking at crime scene photos—those were all things we already did. What did it
matter if the files were a year old versus a day? Theoretically, the risks were the same—minimal. But with active cases, the stakes were higher.
    This UNSUB that Locke and Briggs were hunting, he was out there
now
. He might be planning his next kill
now
. It was easy enough to keep us out of the field on cold cases. But with
lives on the line, if bringing us along could make a difference…
    “It’s a slippery slope.” Judd rubbed the back of his hand over his jaw. “I trust Briggs. Mostly.”
    “You trust Agent Sterling,” I said. He didn’t contradict me. “What about the director?”
    Judd met my eyes. “What about him?”
    The director was the one