Redzone by William C. Dietz Page B

withdrew. Lee got out of bed and made her way into the bathroom. She had to look good for Jenkins. Good enough so he would allow her to leave and go home. With that goal in mind she entered the shower, washed her hair, and emerged feeling better.
    The next twenty minutes were spent drying her hair, and combing it, but without any of the stuff she normally used. The results were far from perfect but would have to do. Fortunately, there was a tube of lipstick in her purse, and it was sitting on the dresser. There was no sign of her phone or weapons however.
    By then it was time to get dressed, and Lee was pleased to discover that the outfit she’d been wearing two days earlier had been washed, pressed, and was hanging in the closet.So she got dressed and was ready to go by the time the woman returned. “Hi! My name is Cindy,” she said. “Chief Jenkins is downstairs. Would you like me to show you the way to the lobby?”
    Lee knew that the high level of personal service was a good way to keep track of her. But it wouldn’t do to pitch a fit about it. Not if she wanted to get out of there. She smiled sweetly. “That would be nice, thank you.”
    Lee followed Cindy down a hall to an elevator that took them down to the main floor. From there it was a short walk to a substantial reception desk and the spacious lobby beyond. There were carefully placed plants, clusters of comfortable-looking chairs, and the Pacific Ocean’s sparkling presence beyond the enormous windows.
    Jenkins got up from a chair and came forward to meet her. “Cassandra! How are you feeling, girl? You look good.”
    Lee accepted the hug and took the chair next to his. “Thanks, boss . . . And I
feel
good. So how ’bout bailing me out of here?”
    Jenkins laughed before turning serious. “I know you want out . . . And you have the legal right to leave whenever you want. But here’s the deal . . . I can’t clear you for a return to work until Dr. Kane tells me that you’re ready.”
    Lee started to reply but Jenkins raised a hand. “Hear me out . . . The Bonebreaker is feeling the pressure. The shrinks think he’s just normal enough to be frightened. And he’s scared of
you
. Put that together with the run-in you had with the bastard in the red zone, and it’s likely that you’re on his mind twenty-four/seven.
    â€œBut he couldn’t attack you directly,” Jenkins continued. “Not without exposing himself. So he launched a psychological attack instead. Think of it as a bullet. The slug hit you, and it caused damage, but you survived. Now you’re in rehab, and it will take time to heal.”
    â€œOkay,” Lee said. “So how ’bout this? I agree to see Dr. Kane as an outpatient and you let me go home.”
    Jenkins nodded. “I’ll talk to him. If he’s okay with the idea, then so am I.”
    After that the conversation turned to Operation Thunderstorm, the effort to resolve all of the issues related to the Kaplan murders, and the manner in which Wolfe had stepped up to the plate. Jenkins was clearly pleased with her performance—and Lee wondered if the lieutenant was a candidate to replace Ayeman.
    Jenkins left after that, and Lee discovered that she was hungry. After checking with the front desk she learned that the facility had a dining room, which was open for dinner.
    Lee went in, took a table by the window, and was looking at the ocean when Kane arrived. “I heard you were up and around . . . May I join you?”
    Lee smiled. “Of course.”
    Kane sat down, and a waitress arrived seconds later. Lee ordered the pan-fried sole, and Kane chose a shrimp salad. “So,” he said, as the waitress left. “You spoke with Chief Jenkins.”
    Lee’s eyebrows rose. “You’re very good at tracking my movements.”
    Kane laughed. “I can see how it