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“Oh shit!” His voice does a one-eighty. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Bri. I forgot you were shot. You’re walking and moving normally. I figured you must not have been injured too badly.”
“It’s fine.”
“I’m sorry,” he continues. “I normally don’t assume shit like that.”
“I said I’m fine,” I assure him again.
The elevator comes to a soft halt, so I take one last deep breath. Eric is right. I do need to conjure up every ounce of confidence I have. The best method for someone to believe you is if you believe it yourself, and although it is a lie, this is my life, my job, and my career on the line. I need to do whatever it takes to ensure I have one when all of this is said and done.
“Lead the way.” Eric steps out, waiting for me to exit.
Steeling myself, I look Agent Alders in the eyes, giving myself one last mental pep talk.
I can and will do this.
I have to if I’m going to give myself every opportunity to get Gabriel back unharmed and safe where I need him to be. Even if that means he gets fostered with someone other than me. Nothing matters at this moment other than doing what it takes to ensure I have the means to locate him.
I still don’t know why I’m being called into the department today, but if the internal investigation hasn’t been completed and I’m stuck on admin leave, then finding Gabe will be way more difficult without PD help.
It’ll be like my hands are shackled with no key to get free. That is unless what Agent Alders fed me out in his vehicle earlier was the truth and not bullshit, then he can and will help me find Gabriel. He has the resources to do so.
There’s no doubt in my mind that I have to do this. I have to lie through my teeth.
Is it wrong? Sure. But what other choice do I really have? Not accepting Eric’s “get-out-of-jail-free” card would mean I’m giving up. I don’t give up. I’m not a quitter, not even if it means I get inducted into the Dirty Blue.
They say the path to Hell is paved with good intentions. Maybe that’s true. Maybe it isn’t. All I know is if this helps me get one step closer to finding that innocent little boy, then I guess I’m on the next train to Hell.
“Let’s do this.”
“Now that’s the right attitude to have, Detective.” He snickers. “Or soon-to-be Special Agent.”
“Doesn’t it take months of interviewing just to get a chance at becoming part of the DEA?”
“What the fuck do you think you’ve been doing for the past two months?”
I walk past him, down the quiet hall until I see Tom’s office door come into view. Becky, his assistant, has her spectacle-framed eyes glued to the computer screen in front of her.
She doesn’t look up when I stop in front of her until she hears my voice.
“Tom is expecting me,” I inform her.
“Detective.” She jumps, smiling awkwardly. She obviously knows why I’m here and why wouldn’t she?
“Hey, Becky.”
Agent Alders’s large frame stops behind me. Becky’s eyes glance up and over my head, seeing him. Warm air fans the back of my head when he lets out an amused laugh.
Eric and I might have gotten off on the wrong foot when he demanded I get inside his SUV half an hour ago, and I can’t say we’re on the path to friendship yet, because I don’t know him, but even I can admit he’s a looker.
Like my neighbor said, he has a dreamy appearance. But he’s a cop. And there is something about fellow badges that I’ve never been physically attracted to.
“I thought only you were meeting with the chief and Detective Summers? He didn’t tell me anyone was accompanying you.”
Ah, hell.
Justin Summers?
That man has a reputation that precedes him—and not in a good way. As much as cops don’t like IA, even I know they are necessary; a check and balance on policies.
