Page 16 of Ultimate Justice

Crystal was about forty-five pounds, with a pure white fluffy coat, courtesy of her Samoyed lineage, but with vivid blue eyes from the husky side.

Blue whined, so Evan gave him some slack and damned if his dog didn’t do something he’d never seen him do before. Strut. With his head held high, lifting his paws off the floor more than normal and swaying his shoulders as he walked to the pretty female, Blue looked like John Travolta strutting down the sidewalk in Saturday Night Fever.

Crystal stuck her nose through the bars and wagged her fluffy tail faster, whacking it against the inside of the crate. She cracked her jaw, the upturned corners of her mouth reminding him of a human smile. When Blue touched noses with Crystal, she cavorted inside the crate, making it rock back and forth.

“Well, isn’t that interesting.” Sammy had turned to watch the canine greeting. “She’s friendly with people but kinda standoffish with other dogs.”

Chuckling came from the doorway, where Deck smirked. “Looks like love.”

“You oughta know,” Brett kicked back with a matching smirk.

“True that.” Deck’s smirk morphed into what was now an everyday thing on his friend’s face—a contented smile, one that was pretty much frozen in place since the day he’d asked Dr. Tori Sampson to marry him. “When are you gonna pop the question?”

“The question” was aimed at Brett, who’d also become grin-prone since he’d moved in with Gemma Scott, an investigator with the National Insurance Crime Bureau with whom he’d fallen hard on his ass in love.

“Working on it.” Go figure, Brett grinned. “I made a trip to the jewelry store last week.”

“’Bout freaking time.” Evan clapped his friend on the back.

“Congrats, man.” Deck pumped Brett’s hand.

“Thanks.” Brett’s grin broadened to the point Evan thought the guy’s teeth would pop out of his mouth. “Haven’t asked her yet.”

“You got this,” Evan said, meaning it. It might not have been obvious at first to either of them, but Brett and Gemma were destined to be together. In a When Harry Met Sally kind of way.

Like Deck and Tori, Brett and Gemma’s path to happiness had been peppered—no, make that hammered—with tension and animosity. Eventually, and after copious groveling, his friends had found that one special woman who was always meant to be theirs. Sadly, Evan had learned the hard way there was no room in his own life for anyone else.

Being a workaholic always trashed his relationships before they’d even had the chance to get going. Too bad, that. He’d really liked Annelise. With her, he’d tried harder than with any of his previous girlfriends. In the end, he’d fucked things up like he always did. Always working. Always coming home late and getting up early. The minute he’d gotten another call about a missing kid, he’d been out the door. So had she. In the proverbial sense. Knowing how things would most likely end, he’d yet to bother giving a woman a key to his place, let alone move in with one.

“Get your tuxedos yet?” Deck looked from Evan to Brett.

Brett nodded. “Yep.”

“Evan?”

“Haven’t had the chance.” That wasn’t about to change anytime soon. Deck shot him a look that called bullshit. “I’ll get it. Wouldn’t want to piss Tori off.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Deck agreed, shaking his head. “Trust me on that.”

“Speaking of not pissing anyone off”—Brett hitched his chin in the direction of SAIC Mimoa’s office—“they’re all in there.”

Great. Given what Evan had to tell them, he might get his ass handed to him.

Both dogs had lain down. Blue outside the crate, Crystal still inside. They’d stuck their noses as far as they would go through the slats until they were touching. Love really was in the air.

Sammy looked up from her monitor. “I don’t think Blue’s going anywhere. I’ll keep an eye on them. I should have that background check finished on Marlie Foxe by the time you’re done in there.”

“Thanks.” Evan went down the hall and rapped twice on Brian Mimoa’s door.

“Come,” a voice called out.

Evan went in, closing the door behind him. Already seated in front of his SAIC’s desk were ATF Resident Agent-in-Charge Lori Olyawule and DEA Assistant Special Agent-in-Charge Santiago Rivera, all bosses on the Denver Special Ops Task Force.

“Grab a seat.” Brian indicated the only empty armchair in front of his desk.

Lori and Santiago gave him brief nods.

As Evan sat, he couldn’t miss the red light on Brian’s phone glowing like a giant red supernova about to explode on top of his head.