“We don’t have anything to charge him with yet,” Kat said. “But if we do our jobs right, we will very soon.” She looked at each of us around the table. “Remember, the FBI still has some jurisdiction in the drug case so, I will repeat, we have to play nice. We don’t make a move on Riker and company unless and until X has coordinated it with the Director of the FBI.”
I didn’t like it, but I didn’t argue because it wouldn’t do any good.
“Rogers, you can let Dr. Vaughn know we have this case and we’ll share information about Riker if and when we can,” Kat told me.
Maybe it was a consolation prize. It did help the tiniest bit.
“And you can give her the broad strokes about Anson. But obviously, not a word about the general or any other potential kompromat targets.”
“Understood,” I said.
“Pasco,” Kat said, “join me in the first-floor conference room in ten, and we’ll review the FBI warrants to see what we need to add to the list.”
“On it, boss,” he said. She left the room as he packed up his computer.
“Hey, I still have some of my newest drink concoction left if you want a nip after work,” he told us.
“No way,” Hayes said. “I’m still having taste flashbacks from Friday night.”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t that bad. But no alcohol for me. I’m leaving at 1700 today.”
“Of course you are.” Pasco glanced between Hayes and me. “I hope this love shit isn’t catching.” He waved as he left. “Kat, hold the elevator. I’m right behind you.”
Hayes slapped me on the back. “How are you holding up, Rogers?”
It was good to have a buddy who understood my frustration, having been through the shit when Savannah’s ex-business partner had gotten pulled into Anson’s orbit. “I’m used to being in the background,” I said, “but if we ever get our shot at Riker, I’m going to have a hard time staying out of the fray.”
“I’m all for you going Tactical on this one,” Wheeler said. “And while you and Hayes are in the field, I’ll be happy to entertain Savannah and Cami.”
“You can give Hayes and Rogers all the shit you want,” Lang said, “but leave the ladies out of it. Otherwise, we’re going to have a problem.”
“Just being friendly.” When Lang stared stonily at him, Wheeler’s grin faded and he nodded earnestly. “But roger that.”
Lang reached down and patted Bella’s head, then turnedhis back on us and stalked out of the conference room. Wheeler’s serious façade morphed into a wide smile.
“Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face,” Lang said without looking back at us.
Wheeler didn’t even try. His favorite part of the job was sparring with all of us, and he wasn’t going to start hiding it now. He reached for the last granola bar left on the snack tray, but I was closer and got to it first.
Now I grinned. “Are we going to have a problem?” I whispered so only Wheeler could hear me.
“You can’t pull off that line, Rogers,” Lang called, now nearly on the other end of the hall. “And get your grubby hands off my granola bar.”
The three of us waited quietly until we heard the door to the stairwell close behind him.
Then Hayes spoke. “Sometimes that guy is fucking scary. Maybe he’s been implanted with a chip that gives him three-sixty vision and bionic hearing. We should ask Pasco about it.”
“That would be so cool,” Wheeler said.
“He doesn’t need a chip,” I said. “He’s just on to our bullshit.”
Wheeler shrugged. “That doesn’t make him any less scary.”
“Agreed,” I said. “That’s why I’m glad he’s on our team.”
23
CAMI
