AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Right now, actually.” Quinn shouldered her jump bag and lifted her chin at Luke, who fell into place at the foot of the gurney.
Garza turned toward the vault door. “I’m going with you.”
“No,” Camila said, and Roman’s pulse escalated at the panic in her tone. “I don’t need a babysitter. Plus, the bank was robbed. Don’t you have to investigate?”
“Well, yes, but my unit—” Garza looked up, his stare snagging on Roman’s. “Wait. What the hell areyoudoing here?”
“I was in the bank, too.”
Not a lot threw Garza off his game, but that? Definitely got him. “You…what?”
Roman didn’t blink. “I was in the bank with your sister when it was robbed. Pure coincidence.”
Garza shook his head, clearly still trying to process everything. But Quinn jumped in with, “Hey, Garza. We really have to head out.”
“Right.” The words seemed to snap the guy into place. “Okay, Camila. I’m riding with you. I’ll callmamiandpapion the way and have them meet us there.”
“Don’t you dare,” she snapped. “One Garza losing their shit about this is enough. Anyway, I won’t be at the hospital for long. I have to give a statement, right?”
Garza paused, then bit out a curse. “Yes, but I can take your statement at Remington Mem. You need to rest. Let someone take care of you.”
“Not freaking likely if you callmamiandpapi,” she argued as Quinn and Luke wheeled the gurney out the door. On the one hand, Roman didn’t disagree that she needed to be thoroughly checked out. Quinn might be a good paramedic, but she didn’t have X-ray vision. Camila might have an internal injury none of them could see. But shehadbeen pretty calm overall in the face of danger, and she’d clearly helped get Rosalie much-needed medical attention at some point during their time in the vault. She was tougher than her brother was giving her credit for.
He’d have to worry about Camila later, though—and the weird nagging in his gut told him with certainty that he would. But right now, he had a case to work.
With both Rosalie and Camila on their way to the hospital, Roman turned to make his way out of the vault. The bank was swarming with cops and crime scene techs, but he was looking for one cop in particular. He found Sergeant Sinclair in the center of the lobby, his jaw set in firm determination as he watched his detectives interviewing bank patrons, and yeah.
Here we go again.
“Roman,” Sinclair said, meeting him halfway across the marble floor tiles. “I heard you were on-scene during the robbery. You good?”
Surprise flickered through him at Sinclair’s primary concern, but only for a breath before he snuffed it out. “Of course. I assume you’ve called Agent Calloway.”
The mention of Roman’s boss, Olivia Calloway, had the desired effect. Sinclair’s gray-blond brows rose. “No. As it turns out, I’ve had a few more pressing things on my plate, trying to secure the scene. But you’re welcome to loop her in to let her know you’re alright, and that we’ll need you to give a witness statement.”
“I don’t think you understand. My unit is taking jurisdiction of this case.”
Okay, so maybe Roman had more leftover adrenaline than he’d realized. But there was no point in sugar-coating things. No way he was going to be a bystander on this one. For fuck’s sake, he’d had an assault rifle pointed at his head while a felony had gone down, with a dozen other lives on the line right alongside his. He hadn’t been able to do anything about it in the moment, but he could damn well take control of the situation now.
His unit was going to work this case. No matter how hard he had to fight Sinclair to get jurisdiction.
Detectives Shawn Maxwell and Isabella Walker peeled off from the group of uniformed officers standing at the front of the lobby just in time to hear their boss’s protest. “First of all, you don’t get to make that call. Secondly, no.”
Maxwell’s stare went wide as he connected the dots. “You’re not seriously trying to take this case?”
Roman didn’t care that the guy was six-four and roughly the size of a small nation. He wasn’t backing down on this one. “If you’d been held at gunpoint by three assholes robbing a bank, wouldyoulet someone else take the case?”
Isabella—the only cop Roman knew who went by her first name rather than her last—dug in even harder than Maxwell. “That’s kind of the point,” she said, sliding one hand to her hip. “You’re a witness, which makes you too personally invested. Besides, bank fraud is a whole lot different than bank robbery. This isn’t a case for the Feds.”
She had a point, one Roman’s boss would likely make, too. While the FBI’s Fraud Division could technically handle a bank robbery, those usually fell under the umbrella of violent crimes rather than the white collar felonies his team usually investigated. If he wanted this case, he was going to have to fight for it—hard—and his boss would have to back him up, one hundred percent.
But this case had gone beyond personal the second those gunmen had threatened Roman’s life. No way was he letting anyone else take it.
“Look, Roman”—Sinclair stepped in, his voice dropping to keep the conversation as private as possible, considering the circumstances—“my team is already on this case. I get that you want in on it. I really do.” Hell if the guy’s expression didn’t back up his words, and damn it, Roman hated everything about this situation. “But you and I both know that Calloway won’t back you on that call. You’re too personally involved to take point.”
A laugh crossed his lips as little more than a huff. “Right. But Garza can work the case when his sister was involved, no problem.”
Well, that got him. “I’ll make sure Garza stays in line, and if he doesn’t, he’ll be riding the pine, just like you,” Sinclair said after a beat. “But Intelligence is taking this case.”
