+18 eps. 17-21 - After a hard case that takes the team to DC in order to catch a blackhat and prevent a bombing, all hell breaks loose on their return to Boston , when the ghost of the Libra killer comes back to torture Brock seven years after the m...
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Brock asked himself pretty much the same—how was he supposed to face his worst nightmare all over again? But right now that was the least of his concerns. Stupid as it might seem, he still couldn't believe what he'd just seen. He was too upset to just sit and wait for Gillian, so he circled his desk and rested against it. His knuckles went white on the desk edge as he forced himself to breathe deep and slow. It wouldn't calm him down. But at least it would keep his voice from breaking.
He saw Gillian coming and crossed his office in two strides to yank the door open and let her in. She kept her eyes down as she went to stand in the center of the room and crossed her hands behind her back. He closed the door and turned to her. Years of experience helped him to keep his tone low. But the temperature dropped abruptly at the only word he uttered.
"Well?"
Only now she looked up at him, and Brock scowled deeper when he met her eyes. All of a sudden, everything about her radiated only a hardened distance. Nothing he'd ever seen in her. And certainly not what he'd expected from her. Especially when she arched her eyebrows, as if asking, 'Well what?'
He clenched his fists and set his jaw. Well, what? "You better explain what I just saw in your office, Gillian."
"We're working a homicide with the locals, sir."
Her voice caught his attention. Calm, firm. And stone cold. What was she up to? "Related to the Libra killer."
"No, sir. Related to a copycat."
He narrowed his eyes. She held his glare without a blink.
"There's a Libra copycat active in the city and you didn't think of letting me know."
"You were in Augusta with another case, sir."
"Don't try to be smart, Gillian."
"I don't, sir."
"You're gonna bring me everything you have on it. As of now, you're no longer on the case."
She still held his glare and didn't move.
Brock scowled deeper. What was with her? Why did she behave like this? He felt rage twisting his guts, and it showed in his voice. "Didn't you hear me, Gillian? Go bring the file."
"With all due respect, sir, you cannot work this case."
He ducked his head half an inch, not believing his ears. Anger threatened to strangle his voice again. "Beg your pardon?"
"You cannot work this case, sir. You're too emotionally involved."
Brock stiffened as if she'd slapped him, and needed a couple of seconds to keep a grip on himself and his fists to his sides. "It's an order, Gillian. Do it."
He pulled the door open again, for her to leave. But she didn't.
Instead, she tilted her head. "Why would you even wanna take it?" she asked, and she sounded sincerely curious. "You know my team and I will solve it in a couple of days."
The door got roughly closed as Brock stalked to stand only one step away from her. He glared down at her, pouring ice and poison. The surprise at the way she looked up at him, as if asking what was all this fuss about, fed his growing rage. His voice was a menacing whisper. "Don't make the mistake of thinking you have any saying in this."
"We'll close it in two days tops. If we don't, you can take it."
"Go fetch that file, Gillian. Now."
"I'm sorry, sir, but I won't."
He needed to fight the fury trying to choke him. "Are you challenging me, Gillian?"
"Not at all, sir. But I do have my doubts about your judging on this case. And your reaction right now seems to prove me right."
Brock stepped back, because he was very tempted to forget she was a woman and smash a fist into her face. "Fine!" he growled, and spun around to leave the room.
Somehow she moved fast enough to reach the door before him and stood there, her hand on the knob. Her tone was closer to her usual voice now. "Please, sir. You know me damn well. You know I would never try to dare you or step over your toes. Let me handle it. Two days. That's all I'm asking."
His scowl was about to beat a whole new record.
"C'mon! You know it's not the real Libra! You killed him seven years ago with your own hands! So what's the point?"
The way he ground out his next words would've persuaded a white shark to move to another ocean. "Step aside, Gillian."
"Two days. And then it's all yours."
He headed to the next office. He heard a vague echo in his head, saying it was very likely that Russell's door to the hallway was locked. He didn't give a shit. He'd kick it open if he had to.
Her words behind him whipped hard on his back.
"C'mon, don't do this to yourself!"
He spun on his heels, a dangerous glare blazing his eyes, and approached her again. He didn't recall hating anybody else's guts as much as he hated hers at that moment. "Don't speak like you know me, Gillian. 'Cause you don't. At all. You have no idea what you're talking about."
Gillian's eyes were jagged Irish steel, stabbing him as she lowered her voice to match his. And her cold contempt sent a chill of pure fury down his spine.
"I have no idea? D'you think you're the only one who lost a loved one to the Libra? That because we didn't bury a spouse, we weren't affected by his spree here? You would've never even glanced at the original case if it hadn't disrupted your private life! But I was here when that son of a bitch hit this town. And I can tell you the fear and grief he caused still remain. So don't come tell me I don't know what I'm talking about."
"Watch your mouth, Gillian. I'm your senior officer."
"Then act like one: grow a pair and admit we're fitter for the job."
You know me damn well? She'd really said that? No. He didn't know her. He'd never had to deal with this cold, despicable version of Gillian trying to trample over his head and his past. And she just kept going.
"What's two days? You don't really give a damn about the victim or the case. You wanna do this only out of pride and guilt." She made those two words sound like a steaming pile of shit. "Because no-one outwits Declan Brockner."
He felt himself shiver and his nails hurting the skin of his palms. He knew she couldn't care less about sanctions. But it was his last resource not to break her nose right there and then. "You're suspended. I'll notify Cooper myself. Bring everything on the case to this office and leave the building until further notice. Now step away from the door or I'm calling security."
She let out an exasperated sigh, her eyes still on him as she shook her head, and opened the door for him to stalk out.
