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“This isn’t a federal case. ” Runyon was obviously restraining his own sense of self-importance.
“Hey, dickhead, there was an attempt on a military officer’s life, one assigned to the Department of Homeland Security—that makes it a federal case,” Timothy growled in disgust. “Alex, where did this little turd come from?”
Alex winced. He’d rarely seen Timothy so pissed off. This was Timothy carrying a load of pissed, and the dumbass detective was about to get the brunt of it.
“He was the first one on the scene last night. ” Alex lifted his good shoulder in a shrug. “Besides, the chief and I are friends. I figure there had to be something good about him somewhere. ”
“I’d question that friendship if I were you. ” Timothy turned back to the detective. “Get your bony ass out of my investigation, you incompetent little prick. And pray to God I don’t decide to see if I can’t pin this explosion to your sharp little nose and throw you behind bars for a nice little vacation. ”
Runyon stepped back.
Alex shot him a compassionate look and shook his head warningly. “Go, Runyon. I’ll see if I can’t settle him down and save your job. ” Alex grinned. “At least until I’m your boss. Then we’ll talk. ”
Runyon stalked out. Seconds later the front door slammed as Timothy cackled.
“That little prick. ” The special agent shook his head. “He’s got issues. I’ll have him checked out. ”
“What the hell are you doing here, Timothy?” Alex watched curiously as the special agent stared around the room slowly.
Timothy shrugged. “Forced vacation. They were making me take a break until this came across the wire.
Since I handled the investigation here, they let me come back to work. ”
Alex’s brows arched. Timothy didn’t take breaks. He was always manipulating, conniving, and catching criminals. It was all he lived for. He’d die in the line of duty, Alex was convinced of it. Likely from a stroke.
“I don’t need any help, Timothy,” Alex told him firmly. One had to be firm with Timothy. “I have it covered. ”
“I’ll just make sure of that. ” Timothy shoved his hands in his pockets and turned back to him. “Report says you’ve been living with that little Mackay girl, Natches’s sister. You like living dangerously, don’t you, boy? I’m surprised he let you live. ”
Alex’s lips quirked as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s been touch and go, the letting me live part. ”
“She’s a good girl. ” Timothy nodded slowly. “I had a full investigation done on her. Damned shame how Dayle Mackay tr
ied to use that kid against Natches all those years. ”
“She’s survived. ” Alex had to fight the anger that threatened to return.
“Survived only to come home and face this bullshit. ” Cranston stared around the room again. “You know what, Alex?”
“What?” Alex’s eyes narrowed on the other man. His expression was heavy, his gaze dark with grief.
“She looks like my baby girl,” Cranston said softly. “My little Maria. She was in the Federal Building with her mother when that terrorist’s bomb hit, you know. ”
Shit. He hadn’t seen the vague resemblance. “Yeah, she does, Timothy,” he said gently.
The agent had lost his wife, his daughter, son-in-law, and new granddaughter in a strike by homeland terrorists. Cranston had taken every terrorist-related assignment he could get since. He didn’t rest. Alex knew he would never rest.
“She looks like her,” he repeated as he turned back to the bedroom, his expression twisting for the slightest second in rage and pain. “Bastard tried to blow her to little pieces, didn’t he?”
“He almost managed it. ” Alex had to grit his teeth against the rage.
“And almost took out my best fucking team commander,” Cranston snarled. “Where’s your mind? I got the papers the other day that you’re not returning? What’s with that shit?”
Alex grinned. “Bum leg. ” He rubbed at his thigh.
“Lying bastard. ” Timothy stared around the room again, his attention shifting from the window to the bed.
He pursed his lips as he measured the distance. “Five-ten, maybe,” he murmured. “Your perp. Not a big boy. Didn’t take a lot of force, but he would have had to put everything into it. Jerked a little; aim was a little off when it came through the window, I bet. ”
