J. Ellison - The Cold Room

Memphis sat at a table, an untouched glass of wine to hand.

Taylor had that instance of annoyance coupled with attraction. She tamped it down, looked at Baldwin. “Should we join him?”

“Of course. He must be killing time before he leaves for the airport.”

They crossed the piazza and greeted Memphis.

“Have a seat,” he said.

They did, ordered espressos and tiramisu.

Memphis had been on his very best behavior for the past several hours. Taylor kept waiting for that to end. She knew they had unfinished business, that she needed to talk to him about the kiss. But he was supposed to be going back to London, and she didn’t see that she was going to have the opportunity. The crime scene in the Tuscan hills just hadn’t felt like the right place. Too much obsession already in evidence there.

Baldwin’s phone rang and he looked at the caller ID. He excused himself and answered. “Garrett, hey. How are things back in D.C.?”

Taylor watched him listen for a moment, brows furrowing briefly. He excused himself, and walked across the piazza.

“What’s that about?” Memphis asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh. I bet I know.”

She turned to him. “What?”

“Well, things have changed a bit. I’m not going back to London right away.”

She felt the first edges of skepticism start to build. She should have known it was too good to be true, that she’d been granted a reprieve from Memphis’s searing glances.

“What do you mean?”

“It had been in the works for some time, though I was planning on declining. I’ve been offered a position. At Quantico.”

It took her a moment for that to register. “What?” she asked.

“I’ve been offered a position-”

“I heard you. What position?”

“The BAU terrorism team. Special Liaison to the Metropolitan Police at New Scotland Yard. I’ve taken quite a shine to the place, you see. Thought it might be fun, so I agreed to come on board. That’s probably why your chap is pacing around over there. He doesn’t like me much.”

“Neither do I,” she said.

He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Yes, you do. And this will mean I’m that much closer to you.”

“Oh, don’t even think about it. I have been exceptionally clear with you. I. Am. Not. Interested.”

“Then why did you kiss me?”

“I didn’t, you asshole. You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.” He caught her eye. “And you enjoyed it.”

Jesus, talking to him was like fighting with a five-year-old. I know you are, but what am I? I know you are, but what am I? Infinity.

“No, I didn’t. And I would really appreciate you just letting the whole incident go. I’m willing to forget that it ever happened. Okay?”

“Absolutely, darling. For now.” He reached across the table and touched her hand, gently. She jerked it away.

“Get home safe, Memphis. Please, do us both a favor and don’t be in touch.”

She ignored him when he said, “Taylor,” and left him at the table. Let him get the damn bill this time. She didn’t look back as she joined Baldwin, who was turning off his phone.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“The usual. Garrett wanted a lowdown on the case. You’re all flushed, what’s wrong?”

She felt the burn of a blush on her cheeks. “Nothing. It’s…nothing.”

“Is it Memphis?”

“Really, it’s nothing. He just spilled the beans that he’s joining the BAU.”

“Let’s walk,” he said.

As they moved together, her hand naturally found his. The lights of Florence surrounded them; the calls of the homeless beggars, the tourists, the crowds had dissipated. Nighttime in Florence was magical. The warmth of his strong fingers allayed all her fears. This was the one. Baldwin was the one. As they entered the Piazza della Signoria, he stopped and kissed her briefly.

“Hmm,” she said. “Do that again.”

He complied, then they started strolling again.

“Memphis won’t be going to Quantico anytime soon,” he said.

“What?”

“I requested to have him sent back to London.”

She stopped, pulled him to face her. “You didn’t.”

“I most certainly did.”

“That’s not fair, Baldwin. He’s a good cop. He’s helped us break this case.”

Defending Memphis was the wrong tact to take. She saw the fire start to burn in Baldwin’s eyes. His voice grew tight.

“A good cop who was making a play for you. I figured you’d appreciate having him off your back.”

“I can take care of myself, Baldwin.”

“I know that, damn it. That’s what I’m worried about.” He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath, mastering his temper. She rarely saw him lose it, was surprised at the intensity of this particular conversation.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” she said.

“I don’t want to fight with you either. We just need to watch our steps. Everything is changing. I can feel it coming. I’m not sure exactly how, but between this, the threats of the Pretender, Memphis, something bad is about to go down. I want to keep an eye on you. Maybe it’s time to think about coming home for good.”

She pulled away from him. “Don’t do that. Deep down, that’s not what you want. I know you. You don’t want to be tied to a house, to a staid life in one city. You’d miss the chase, miss the chance to make a difference.”

He looked at her queerly. “Do you actually believe that being with you full-time isn’t my priority?”

She looked away, discomfited. “In your heart, yes. But in your head? No, honey. You need the BAU, just like I need Metro. It’s a part of you.”

“You’re a part of me. The BAU is just a job.”

“It’s more than that. It’s your whole life.”

“No, Taylor. You’re my whole life.” He kissed her again, more deeply this time. “And don’t you forget it. Come on now. Let’s go back to the hotel and get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

She let herself be towed away, knowing full well the conversation was far from over.

O nce in their room, she took advantage of the small distance between them and stole away to the bathroom, took a shower, taking her time. Too much had happened in the past few days. Too many emotions stirred up. Baldwin couldn’t leave the BAU, especially for her. It wasn’t right.

She toweled off, brushed her wet hair out. Now that it was over, she finally allowed herself to think about the horror of the brothers’ actions. What the victims had gone through at their hands. How they’d slowly wasted away, their organs shutting down, the pain dulling with the blur of unconsciousness.

She brushed her teeth, spit, then opened her mouth wide, looking at the molars, the incisors, the way each tooth aligned perfectly with its neighbor. Precision. Teeth were as unique as fingerprints. What would it look like if all the flesh were gone? If she’d been locked in a Plexiglas cage, had slowly, inexorably starved to death, then rotted away? She tried to imagine her skull as an anthropologist from an archeological dig might. Would he look at the teeth, the brow ridge, the nasal cavity, and think wow, this woman must have been beautiful when she was alive? The teeth must have flashed bright and ready in happiness when this skull breathed. Many men must have found her attractive.

She wished she’d slapped Memphis when he kissed her. The bastard was right. She had kissed him back. And she would have to live with that knowledge. Baldwin could never know.

She pushed all thoughts of Memphis away. She needed to focus on the good here, the fact that she’d caught her killers, solved the case. She’d made all the right moves. She’d proven herself, and that would be nothing but good for her career. There would be plenty of time later to worry about where things would go from here. Baldwin moving back to Nashville full-time would be lovely, but he wouldn’t be happy, even if he didn’t know that now. She had her own demons to wrestle with, her own issues to resolve. It was all bad timing.