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11
“You did what?”Liv stared at her SRA, sitting at his desk as if he hadn’t just thrown a bomb in her lap, and wondered how she would ever look at Mitch Lawson with respect again.
Since their discussion with Zeke, Cameron Blackwell had temporarily occupied a desk two cubicles down from hers. When he’d disappeared yesterday afternoon and failed to show up today, she decided to discuss her concern with Mitch.
But her SRA not only knew why Zeke’s brother was gone, he had conspired with Cameron’s supervisor at the Charlotte field office to make it happen.
“I have no desire to repeat myself, Olivia.”
“You’ve gone too far.”
Mitch’s eyes turned harder, colder. “We don’t have time to dillydally. This was the most expedient way to light a fire under Zeke’s ass.”
“By punishing his big brother? Why didn’t you call him before taking such drastic measures?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“Voice mail, every time.”
“Then you should have sent me or Cameron to talk to him.” She shook her head. “All you accomplished was to piss him off. Zeke will never assist us now.”
“He will.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Protecting one’s family is a powerful motivator.”
Something Liv knew a great deal about. What had happened to this man? He’d always been tough and willing to take things right up to the edge, but he’d never turned on one of their own.
“Does Shanice know?” Something this big couldn’t have gotten far without the region’s Special Agent in Charge’s seal of approval.
“You could say the SAC was almost enthusiastic about the arrangement.”
Everything she understood about her coworkers had been upended in the space of a five-minute conversation while listening to the whir of the microwave.
“If Zeke Blackwell is as smart as I think he is,” Mitch said, “he’ll be in contact soon. Prepare yourself.”
“Me? I had nothing to do with this.”
Mitch stared at her with his usual desire-laced exasperation, but this time she sensed something more volatile bubbling at the edges. Something his iron grip of control might not be able to contain “It’s your case, and he seemed quite keen on working with you.” His voice lowered. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
She’d rather walk around the NASCAR Hall of Fame naked than share the details of her one-night stand with her supervisor. Especially one whose interest in her personally seemed to be growing by the day. Not good.
“He’s not going to do it,” Liv said, “and I’m not going to be his verbal punching bag.”
Mitch shrugged. “Since when do you care about what others think?”
That stung.
To be successful as an FBI special agent, Liv had trained herself to be sparing with her emotional responses at work. She wasn’t an ice queen and she didn’t try to blend in with the guys.
Sometimes she cared too much, but she didn’t let it get in the way of doing her job. She kept her momentum moving forward. Always. But she was loyal to the Bureau and to her fellow agents. In many ways, the Bureau had saved her after losing her husband to a freak accident. The work gave her purpose during a time when she struggled to understand life’s myriad of cruelties.
“We’re done here,” Mitch said. “Let me know when Zeke Blackwell makes contact.”
“There’s something else.”
