Page 20 of Gianna

“This is a dangerous killer. Women have lost their lives, families are in mourning, the political scene is ready to explode, and you’re trying to score petty points by saying Wyatt should have waited another two seconds before speaking to a suspect? Really?”

She glared at Lucien. To her surprise, now that she was spitting mad at him, she saw a hint of respect in his gaze. Maybe, even, a slight touch of embarrassment.

“Perhaps I overreacted,” he mumbled. “It doesn’t mean I need you here. You are not needed on this case.”

“Oh, yes, we are!” Juliette gritted her teeth as she replied. “We are needed here. We’ve chased this guy for more than a month. We have an inventory of the scenes, we have maps of kills, we have so much intelligence on the sites and locations. We have a whole lot of potential clues that might just lead us to him, if we find a match here. And right now, I should tell you that if you submit an adverse report on us, I’m going to contact your bosses here in the French police. I’m going to tell them that you are arrogant, that you have not tried to work with us or be part of a team, and that your own behavior is what has sabotaged the case.”

Breathing hard, she stared at him. She felt ready to bite him! That’s how mad she was.

Lucien stared back, with astonishment in his eyes.

For a while the tension in the room felt tangible, a shimmering force. Wyatt was nodding in support, his face approving.

Then Lucien let out a breath, and shrugged.

“I was angry,” he said. “This is a stressful situation for all of us. I agree that I spoke out of turn. I accept that you will be working with us.”

He still didn’t sound as if he liked it, but Juliette thought it was as close as she was going to get to an apology. Sensing that it was wiser not to dwell on this for now, she decided it was better to move on.

“We need to question him. What are we going to do about interviewing him?"

Wyatt cast a sidelong glance at Lucien.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked. "He's an English speaking American. Juliette and I must interview him."

Lucien was gathering his anger again, to Juliette’s consternation. "That, I cannot allow. This crime has taken place on French soil. I am the appointed representative to oversee the case. If he is found not guilty of this crime, he may be guilty of other offenses, and I will have to place those charges."

Now, he had a point, and Juliette knew she couldn't do a thing about it. He was right.

"I'm the psychology expert," she said to Wyatt. "I should probably be in there for the questioning."

Now, Wyatt was glaring at her! "I've done how many interrogations in the Middle East?" he shot back. "I know how to get to into the mind of a suspect, playing nice guy and then tough guy. You gotta ease into things, make sure you have the suspect's respect, and then back off again and give them a chance to spill it out."

"Look, we can't all three go in there. Three officers to one suspect is going to be totally out of balance," Juliette protested.

Now, Lucien was smirking. "You see? You are blaming me, but the truth is you two Americans do not know how to work together. You are like children, no?"

Juliette jerked her head around, feeling furious by that unfair insult. Out of all of them, Lucien had been the most childish and moody, especially when he’d been provoking them.

With the clash of two male egos, and the success of the case hanging in the balance, there was only one person who was capable of defusing the surge of conflict.

"You're right, Wyatt," she said, causing both men to stare at her in amazement. "You've got more than enough experience. We still have our earphones in place, so I'll watch through the observation window, and if I think of anything, I'll let you know."

At least the atmosphere in the small side office was no longer glaringly hostile. Finally, it seemed they were over the hump of animosity that had almost destroyed their teamwork.

Lucien was already nodding. "It is a good plan," he said.

Wyatt looked from one to the other, then nodded. "Alright," he said. "Let's go get him." He put his earpiece back in, and so did she.

Trying to ignore how disappointed she felt at not getting to be face-to-face with this suspect, remembering that both Wyatt and Lucien were capable and experienced, Juliette went into the back room and looked through the observation window.

Perhaps this would all be for the good, she thought. If this was their suspect then it would be case closed, and it wouldn't matter who had asked the questions. If he was not, then she'd have a chance to see how Wyatt and Lucien handled the questioning.

And, who knew, maybe she'd even pick up a few tips along the way, she thought wryly.

The interview room was small and oppressive, the walls a dull gray that seemed to swallow up the light. Wyatt and Lucien sat across from the suspect, their faces set and determined.

He was a big man, Juliette noted, with a thick neck and broad shoulders, wearing a red plaid shirt, and with a tattoo on his right forearm. His eyes darted between the two detectives, and his hands shook slightly.

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