“I’ll offer our help, but they have a good team and will continue the investigation, with the support of the Jacksonville FBI office. But what Ryder meant was we should stay, off duty. You, me, the full resort, without being watched by the team.”
“Oh. Like a vacation?”
“Exactly.”
“We can stay in the cottage?” That would be fun, she thought. She and Matt had been on-duty 24/7 for the last six days. She could use some R & R.
“It’s already been processed and cleared, and it’s paid for through Monday, though Ryder got us a flight back late Sunday because I have a meeting first thing Monday morning. I’ll get it cleared with Tony, but I don’t think he’ll have a problem. He’s always bitching that I don’t take enough time off. I want to interview staff with Detective Fuentes tomorrow morning, then we’ll take the rest of the weekend off to relax, go to a nice dinner.”
“We’ve earned it,” Kara said. “See you in a few hours.”
Relax, she thought as she smiled and pocketed her phone.Right.Because both she and Matt weresogood at doing nothing.
But a night of good food and great sex? She wouldn’t pass that up. She and Matt had been pretending to be newlyweds but without the benefits. They’d kissed and flirted and there was a lot of pent-up sexual energy that would be explosive when they finally had privacy.
Yep, they had definitely earned it.
Monday
3
Ryder Kim, FBI analyst and overall logistician for the Mobile Response Team, walked into the conference room at five minutes to nine Monday morning for their post-operation team meeting.
Michael Harris and Sloane Wagner were chatting about what they’d each done on their first weekend off in weeks—Michael had worked on his house, Sloane had gone to a concert with friends from the Academy. Jim Esteban walked in behind Ryder.
“My sister and I went to a doubleheader Saturday,” Jim said. “Needed yesterday to recuperate.” When Jim was in DC, he lived with his sister, a widow. She was a veterinarian and owned a house only ten minutes from Quantico. He spent most of his free time in Dallas, where he had a basement apartment in his longtime home that he had gifted to his daughter and her growing family.
“What about you, Ryder?” Sloane asked. “Do not tell me you worked all weekend.”
He hesitated.
“Damn, Ryder, I would have taken you to the game with me,” Jim said. “You need to get out, have some fun.”
“I didn’t work,” he said. A slight fib. He spent Saturday pulling together everyone’s reports into one document, approving expenses, then he coordinated with the Flagler County Sheriff’s Department and the district attorney on the paperwork and statements for Garrett Reid’s arraignment later this afternoon. “Yesterday I went to a barbecue at a friend’s house.”
Why did everyone look surprised that he had a social life? True, he didn’t have anextensivesocial life. Ryder didn’t see the point of small talk and fake interest. He also didn’t like talking about his personal life with his colleagues. He had few friends, but those he had were rock solid. The party yesterday, however, was bittersweet—the three-year anniversary of the death of a fellow soldier, a needless death and the primary reason Ryder decided to part from the Army and apply to Quantico.
He slid folders down the table, one for each person. “Catherine is on her way, and Matt is meeting with AD Greer at headquarters,” Ryder said. “Zack is in Los Angeles giving his deposition in the political corruption case.”
Last October, the team uncovered a major conspiracy involving all levels of local and state government, taking down a high-ranking FBI agent as well as an elected official. As the one who had cracked the financial network of money laundering and bribes, Zack had to be available to both the defense and prosecution.
“Kara?” Michael asked.
Kara was never late, so it was unusual that she wasn’t here. However, since she moved out of the FBI Academy dorms last month into a house she’d purchased, she hadn’t been coming in as early because her commute was longer than a five-minute walk across campus.
“She’ll probably come in complaining about the traffic,” Jim said. “Or she and Matt decided to take a longer vacation. God knows they both need it.”
“Their flight landed at Dulles at one in the morning,” Ryder said.
“More than forty-eight hours free time probably would have killed them both,” Michael teased.
Ryder was relieved that Matt had come clean about his relationship with Kara Quinn, the LAPD detective on permanent loan to the Mobile Response Team. Ryder had figured it out from the beginning; it took the rest of the team a couple months. He greatly respected his boss, and Kara was an important part of the team—her way of looking at their cases was different than everyone else. It had been Ryder’s idea that they take some time off after they wrapped up their undercover investigation on Friday, and Matt jumped at the idea.
Dr. Catherine Jones, the team psychiatrist, walked briskly into the room and sat in her usual spot, to the right of the head of the table where Matt usually sat. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “I was on the phone with the Flagler County district attorney to flesh out a few details since Matt is meeting with Tony. Reid will be arraigned this afternoon. There are a couple hiccups, however.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Jim said.
“As you know, the search warrants didn’t yield any useful evidence. I’ve gone over the reports and I believe he used his apartment only for official documentation. His secondary location could be closer than I suspected.” She glanced at her watch. “Where’s Kara?”
