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“I can’t tell. Probably better than I would.”
Of course, you weren’t supposed to confess that, but George would understand. In his entire career, George had never fired his weapon off the shooting range.
“There’s support here if he needs it. I’ve been talking to SAC Warner. Do you think it might be best to hand this case off to Salt Lake City’s ACT? It’s their backyard, after all.”
Jason swallowed his instant alarm. “No. It’s a complicated case. It would take Janelle too long to get up to speed. Time is of the essence. We don’t want the family deciding to solve their legal problems by destroying the art they still deny having.”
Sweat prickled his hairline and underarms as he waited for George’s answer.
“Okay,” George said at last, “but Warner says they’ve got the resources. And it’s not like you don’t have plenty of your own cases waiting back home.”
“I know. But this case is too important to risk something getting lost in the handoff. And de Haan did come to the LA Office.”
That was something of a miracle. De Haan had happened to read an article about Jason working with an LA County museum to make proper restitution to the heirs of a Nazi-looted van Gogh, which had hung on the museum’s walls for over fifty years.
Historically—and still all too often—museums and galleries resisted restoring stolen art or even making a serious attempt at restitution, so the news story and Jason’s role in it had stood out for de Haan.
George said reluctantly, “Well, I guess if you think your participation is vital to the successful resolution of the case…”
That made Jason sound like a complete egomaniac. But he not only had to stay part of the investigation, he had to be the one directing the investigation. He said, “I really do.”
“Okay, Jason.” George sounded more resigned than approving. “It’s what the museum wants, and you’ve done the groundwork on this. I’ll confirm our need to take point with Warner.”
Jason felt giddy with relief. “Thanks, George. I promise I won’t let this case linger one minute longer than it has to.”
And that was the truth. No one had greater interest than him in seeing this thing wrapped up quietly and quickly.
It was after five, and Jason was just hanging up from his phone call with the chief of the Major Theft Unit of the Criminal Investigative Division, Karan Kapszukiewicz, when someone rapped on the door. Sam ducked his head into the office.
“Hey.” Jason smiled welcome.
“Hey.” Sam was not smiling. “Sorry about this.” Sam kept his voice down. “I’ve got dinner with the task-force members tonight.”
Of all the goddamned times. But disappointing though this was, it was not unexpected that Sam would be tied up for most of their evenings. There were always dinners out with the resident team, especially for someone in Sam’s position. Jason kept his smile in place. “I figured.” His gaze traveled to Travis Petty hovering behind Sam in the hallway. He nodded politely to Petty, who nodded politely back.
“I’ll give yo
u a call afterward?” Sam said still more quietly.
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
A smile flickered across Sam’s gaze, though the next instant he was his usual unreadable self.
He nodded curtly and closed the door to Jason’s office.
Chapter Four
It was nearly six by the time J.J. was finally finished being interviewed and the brass and legal reps headed out to catch their planes.
Jason had delayed leaving until he could speak with J.J. No, they weren’t pals, but that’s what you did when you were partners. There was no denying that fighting for your life shoulder to shoulder with a guy created a bond.
He couldn’t read anything in J.J.’s expression beyond weariness, and he seemed to have nothing to report. “Ready to go?” he asked Jason.
“Sure. You want to grab some dinner?”
J.J. was swiftly gathering his things. “Nope. I’ve got a date.”
“Who with?”
