Not awesome.Certainly not like good triumphed over evil, because if that were true, somebody would have struck those motherfuckers dead before they’d had a chance to weaponize Fido.But better.
They’d been there for a reason.There were innocent people involved.The innocent people (yes, he was counting the dog) walked away.
Didn’t always happen.
And suddenly Joey could see what his team was pushing for.
He hadn’t seen it during that first bust, the serial killer.He’d seen he almost let his partner die—that had been bad.He’d seen there were things to learn about human behavior that he’d never even fathomed.That had been fascinating.
But he hadn’t seen that what his team had been pushing for that day, all of them coming in on what was supposed to be a day off to chase down Gideon’s hunch, had been this.
There had been people on Chester Schumer’s hit list who would never know their lives had been in danger.
Thanks to Gideon and Joey, their livesweren’tin danger anymore.
And a New Jersey suburbanite got to walk away from a nightmare with his Chihuahua.
“Carlyle?”Gideon said sharply, and like that, Joey was back in the hospital hallway, his dual realities merging, where suddenly hewasthat guy who would be glad there was a happy ending for somebody, and who would share worry with a teammate and friend about another teammate and friend.
“Yeah, Gid,” Joey replied blandly.“We’re glad they’re okay.Anything else?”
Gideon’s eyes hardened.“Yeah, how long did the gambling commissioner talk to you guys?You’re giving me the jeebies.”
“An hour,” Gail said flatly.“He debriefed us both for an hour, and then tried to push into the room to yell at Crosby while he slept, I guess.The nurse kicked him out, but that’s one of the reasons we stayed.”
Oh yeah.Joey was mad all over again.Now that his own emotions had labels and boxes, he was suddenlypissedat the guy who’d tried to bully Crosbyin his sleep.
Gideon’s thin face grew a curling Disney-villain smile.“Where is he now?”
“Right there….”Gail was spared from pointing at the guy by Gideon giving them both an angry head nod back into Crosby’s room.
“If he tries to get in there again,” Gideon said, no ounce of play in him, “take him out.Cuff him.You both still have weapons.Be prepared to use them.Go.”
And then they were on the other side of the door, with their ears pressed firmly against it.
“I need to get in there.”
Joey and Gail exchanged scowls.Jay Arnold, the gambling commissioner of NYC, was young—early thirties—with slicked-back hair and a sharp brown suit that he probably thought looked good but simply made him look small and pasty because the lapels were too wide.He spoke with a natural pomposity that made any reasonable person want to smack him with a sap.
“I am SA Chadwick from the SCTF,” Gideon said, his voice flat.“That’s my man in there.He was injured in the course of doing your dirty work, because whether you want to admit it or not, this was your case we were executing.You don’t deserve to speak to him, and if I have my way, he won’t ever know you exist.”
Joey sucked in air through his teeth in surprise.He’d heard Gideon speak to his coworkers, to Harding, to perpetrators, and while he could be dry and funny, or no-nonsense and analytical, hard-assed and frightening, Joey had never, ever heard him be so…disdainfulof another human being.
“I need to know how he managed to shoot a dog in the course of a routine investigation—”
“Shoot the dog?”Gideon asked, and something about his tone—baffled and outraged—made the air freeze in Joey’s lungs.That moment in the locker room… Gideon’s face so close….
“People are going to be outraged—”
“My man almostdied,” Gideon snarled, and Gail and Joey both gasped.They’d heard the thump of Jay Arnold’s body as he’d backed up against the wall next to the door.
Or had been shoved there.
“Due to his own—”
“Bullshit,” Gideon snapped.“Who do you think we are?Your basic flatfoot with a six-month sponsorship from our left cousin’s buttcrack?Those two agents you just grilled?They are U.S.Special Forces—a Green Beret and a covert operative.The guy on his back?Tracked down a serial killer single-handedly, brought him in, and made the case stick.I’ve got more letters behind my name than you can probably use to spell, and our SAC?Has more medals on his chest in the military and out of it than you could carry.Do you understand?Our specially trained, carefully nurtured operative was attacked by a dog trained to killon your turf.Youare responsible for him almost bleeding out on a filthy concrete floor.Youare responsible for us having to shoot a dog who had been tortured into savagery.You knew this was happening.You were too afraid to tackle it.Too afraid a couple of methed-out fight promotors were going to make your boys look like chumps.So you called our guys in on it.Good move, because if your boys were as incompetent and lazy as you are, you probably would have shot the hostageandhis Chihuahua, and thenfedthem to the monster that almost killed Crosby!”
Gideon’s voice grew louder, more filled with righteous fury, with each word, and Joey, ear pressed hungrily to the door so he could catch every syllable, had to swallow against a sudden ache in an unexpected place.
