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“You can call me Asher. I got your request, but I haven’t finished with the second pair of victims. I had a backlog…”
She.
Didn’t.
Care.
“My ME needs them bagged, tagged, and driven to the airport for transport to DC. We’ll handle the…”
He cut her off.
“That’s not procedure.”
Lordy, but she had a headache.
Okay, well, she could handle this.
Pulling out her phone, she called Chris, and he didn’t answer. That meant only one thing.
She dialed Tony instead, and when his goofy-ass face appeared on the screen, she didn’t give him time to say anything.
“Anthony, is Chris there?”
He glanced over.
“He’s elbow deep in bowel. Callen caught another victim about five hours ago.”
Damn.
She should be home with her team.
“Can you walk over to him, hold the phone in front of him, and let me talk to him.”
“I could if…”
Elizabeth wasn’t playing.
“ANTHONY! I’ll fire your ass and laugh as I wallpaper your office with pink slips. I’m on a time crunch here!”
She heard her husband laughing.
When Chris’ face appeared on the screen, he had a splash guard on, and was sweating.
“Hey, my sexy wife. I’m sorry I couldn’t answer my phone. I’m a little…distracted.”
He pulled something out of the body and held up the forceps.
“And that’s five.”
It was clearly a bullet.
When he put the items in a tray that Dalia was holding, he pulled off his shield and gloves.
“What’s up?”
“I am so sorry to bother you, Christopher, but you know how I have those four bodies supposedly coming for that case I’m working?”
This was where she hoped and prayed that her husband played along.
