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“So far, I’m good. If this day continues the way it is,” he pauses to knock on his desk, “I’ll be able to hit the gym and still get home before midnight.”
“Well, now you’ve jinxed it,” I quip.
Before resuming testing on my new gadget, I open the main chat to see if I can figure out what Mia’s working on. Nothing there other than the usual updates from the guards in the field and remote surveillance teams in the building, doing their routine check-ins. A quick look atBrucedoesn’t show any of our cases have escalated to critical levels.
My knee bobs frantically.
You know what? To hell with this bullshit.
The kid’s finally done being a Harv. About damn time, sonny boy.
If she’s hiding something— again— I’m going to find out and put a stop to it. That’s not how we operate at Redleg. How can I expect our people to trust her with their lives in the field if I can’t even trust her to give me a straight answer in a text?
“I’ll be right back, T.”
Without waiting for him to reply, I shuffle quickly to Mia’s office. Her door is closed. I contemplate barging in and slamming it behind me so she knows how mad I am at her continued deceit, but calmer heads prevail.
With a deep breath, I extend my hand, preparing to knock. At precisely the same time, she opens the door and nearly plows right into me, stopping only a few inches short.
Holding her laptop close to her chest like a shield, she jumps and stumbles back a few steps. “Oh, motherplucking chicken biscuits!”
My palms shoot out in front of me. “Sorry. Easy. It’s just me.”
“You scared the life out of me.” She exhales deeply, letting her head loll in relief. Once the color returns to her cheeks, her eyes lock on mine. “I was just coming to see you.”
My ego approves of this… assuming it’s the truth. And that’s a big assumption where Mia is concerned.
She waves me in. “Come over here. Close the door.”
I like where this is going. Maybe she’s thought of a way to, uh, you know… start earning me witha little hey-hey, as Frank and Dean would say.
After shutting the door, I turn around to find her opening her laptop and pulling a chair beside her. She motions for me to join her behind the desk.
Oh, damn. It’s work related.
“Tomer said he wasn’t aware of any urgent developments in our caseload.” I let the implied accusation hang in the air while rounding her desk.
“That’s what I was coming to talk to you about.” Her face pinches. “It’s notexactlya Redleg case, and I don’t know what to do about it yet, but I know I need your help.”
My heartbeat speeds up, excitement coursing through me. “Is it a CIA case?”
Her throat bobs when I take the seat beside her. “No, it’s not CIA. I’m not doing shit for them anymore. Fuck ’em and let ’em eat beans.”
I snicker but quickly grow serious when I see what she’s got open on her screen. “Who the hell is Violet Holt?”
A Sarasota County Sheriff’s Office report is displayed on her screen, but I don’t recognize the name of the person who filed the report or the missing young woman. Looks like she vanished after last being seen at a dance club on Friday night.
Mia toggles over to another screen, bringing up a driver’s license photo and points at the screen. “Thisis Violet Holt. According to social media, she goes by Lettie.”
I level her with a side-long glare. “Very funny. But who is she?”
Mia fills her mouth with air, puffing her cheeks and sealing her lips. She shakes her head repeatedly, then closes her eyes as if she’s hiding from me. “I can’t tell you that.”
Her expression is almost comical, but her words tick me off.
My shoulders fall, and I utter a frustrated groan. “Why am I here if you won’t tell me what you know? Why are you looking at this if it’s not a Redleg case? What are you hiding this time?”
“Cal, listen. I know…” She trails off, her face softening. “Can I call you that?”
