Free Mortal Faults by Michael Prescott

specialty.”
    “Not this kind. One wrong move on MEDEA, and I’ll be posted in Anchorage.”
    “I’m not trying to horn in on your territory, Richard. But from what I understand, the seventh floor is unhappy.” That floor was the power center of the Hover Building, and its very mention could inspire fear in a dedicated rung-climber like Michaelson. “They seem to think you’re having trouble with MEDEA. They feel you might be in over your head.”
    “Ridiculous. I have the situation fully under control.”
    “That’s not the way they’re reading it back east.”
    “Well, if they have concerns, they ought to come to me personally. You tell your friend that the L.A. field office is entirely capable of handling MEDEA on our own.”
    “If they felt that way, they wouldn’t be talking to me.”
    There was a pause. “Are you saying you might be coming on board? Is that what they’re telling you?”
    She hadn’t intended to say that, but if the threat of her direct involvement would keep him talking, she would use it. “It’s a possibility.”
    “Oh, hell.”
    “Try not to sound so thrilled.”
    “Why would they bring
you
in? It doesn’t make sense.”
    She thought fast. “Look at it this way. At some point MEDEA may go to trial. When it does, you’ll need somebody with credibility in L.A. to testify. They seem to feel that yours truly has the most credibility of anyone. I mean, given all the favorable coverage I got on the Mobius case and the Rain Man.” She didn’t like bragging, but she thought he would buy this angle.
    He did. “Yes. Yes, I could see how they might think that way.” He sounded worried.
    She tried to get on his good side, assuming he had one. “Believe me, Richard, it’s not that I want to go. Or that I think I can handle things any better than you can.”
    “That’s a lie. You always think you can handle everything better than anyone else.”
    Apparently his good side was a lost cause. “I don’t see why you’re being so territorial. It seems to me that MEDEA is big enough for both of us.”
    “You’re saying you want a piece of this case? Tess, I always thought you were trying to commit career suicide, hanging out in that little cow town when you could be in the spotlight by now. This confirms it.”
    “Maybe I just have very poor judgment.” And Denver is not a cow town, she added silently.
    “There’s no maybe about it. Look, MEDEA is a tightly held secret. There’s only a handful of people who even know the case has been reactivated.” Reactivated—she noted the word. “However you found out about it, we can’t have you sniffing around and making waves.”
    “That’s a mixed metaphor.”
    He sighed, a sound of undisguised exasperation. “How certain are you that you’ll be assigned to MEDEA?”
    “It’s looking likely.”
    “Damn. Well, then you might as well come on in right now .”
    She leaned forward, uncertain she’d heard what she thought she had. “Are you inviting me on board?”
    “If goddamned D.C. is going to send you anyway, I’d rather take the initiative.”
    Now it made sense. “And get the credit,” she said with a smile, “if I come up with a way to clear the case?”
    “You overestimate yourself, as usual.”
    She asked herself how badly she wanted to help Abby—and ensure she stayed off the Bureau’s radar screen. The answer was: almost as badly as she wanted to piss off the Nose.
    “Thanks for having me on your team, Richard. I’ll be there by two p.m.”
    “Wonderful.”
    “Fax me the case report. I’ll read it on the plane.”
    “Why don’t you ask your friend in Washington fax it to you?” he asked in a sullen tone.
    “Just do it.”
    “If you know so much, you don’t even need to read the case report.” He paused, and she thought she could hear the click of mental tumblers starting to fall into place. “How much
do
you know, anyway?”
    The conversation was veering into a dangerous area. “Enough to know