PATRICIA CORNWELL. Unnatural Exposure

‘No stunts with the helicopters, I hope,’ I said.

‘The guys did that. I did my shit from the ground.’ She wasn’t happy about it.

The problem was, Lucy wanted to do stunts with helicopters. There were fifty agents on the HRT. She was the only woman and had a tendency to overreact when they wouldn’t let her do dangerous things that, in my opinion, she had no business doing anyway. Of course, I wasn’t the most objective judge.

‘It suits me fine if you stick with robots,’ I said, and we were in the kitchen now. ‘Something smells good. What did you fix your tired, old aunt to eat?’

‘Fresh spinach sautéed in a little garlic and olive oil, and filets that I’m going to throw on the grill. This is my one day a week to eat beef, so tough luck if it’s not yours. I even sprung for a bottle of really nice wine, something Janet and I discovered.’

‘Since when can FBI agents afford nice wine?’

‘Hey,’ she said, ‘I don’t do too bad. Besides, I’m too damn busy to spend money.’

Certainly, she didn’t spend it on clothes. Whenever I saw her, she was either in khaki fatigues or sweats. Now and then she wore jeans and a funky jacket or blazer, and made fun of my offers of hand-me-downs. She would not wear my lawyerly suits and blouses with high collars, and frankly, my figure was fuller than her firm, athletic one. Probably nothing in my closet would fit.

The moon was huge and low in a cloudy, dark sky. We put on jackets and sat out on the deck drinking wine while Lucy cooked. She had started baked potatoes first, and they were taking a while, so we talked. Over recent years, our relationship had become less mother-daughter as we evolved into colleagues and friends. The transition was not an easy one, for often she taught me and even worked on some of my cases. I felt oddly lost, no longer certain of my role and power in her life.

‘Wesley wants me to track this AOL thing,’ she was saying. ‘Sussex definitely wants CASKU’s help.’

‘Do you know Percy Ring?’ I asked as I thought of what he had said in my office, infuriated again.

‘He was in one of my classes and was obnoxious, wouldn’t shut up.’ She reached for the bottle of wine. ‘What a peacock.’

She began filling our glasses. Raising the hood of the grill, she poked potatoes with a fork.

‘I believe we’re ready,’ she said, pleased.

Moments later, she was emerging from the house, carrying the filets. They sizzled as she placed them on the grill. ‘Somehow he figured out you’re my aunt.’ She was talking about Ring again. ‘Not that it’s a secret, and he asked me about it after class once. You know, if you tutored me, helped me out with my cases, like I couldn’t possibly do what I’m doing on my own, that sort of thing. I just think he picks on me because I’m a new agent and a woman.’

‘That may be the biggest miscalculation he’s ever made in his life,’ I said.

‘And he wanted to know if I was married.’ Her eyes were shadowed as porch lights shone on one side of her face.

‘I worry about what his interest really is,’ I commented.

She glanced at me as she cooked. ‘The usual.’ She shrugged it off, for she was surrounded by men and paid no attention to their comments or their stares.

‘Lucy, he made a reference to you in my office today,’ I said. ‘A veiled reference.’

‘To what?’

‘Your status. Your roommate.’

No matter how often or delicately we talked about this, she always got frustrated and impatient.

‘Whether it’s true or not,’ she said, and the sizzling of the grill seemed to match her tone, ‘there would still be rumors because I’m an agent. It’s ridiculous. I know women married with kids, and the guys think all of them are gay, too, just because they’re cops, agents, troopers, secret service. Some people even think it about you. For the same reason. Because of your position, your power.’

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