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He massaged his knee and grimaced. It was swelling again and needed ice.
The refrigerator in Ops was the size of a stamp and didn’t have an ice maker. If he wanted a compress, he’d have to head to the med ward and that meant seeing Jax. The man had already sent multiple texts, inquiring about his knee.
He switched from massaging that to his low back, inflating the lumbar support pillow in his chair. Pain, anger—they went hand in hand. If only he could get rid of one or the other, maybe he could be normal again.
Who was he kidding? He’d never aspired to be normal. He wanted to be a goddamn hero.
Again.
His computer screens were dark—he hadn’t been here since everything went down—and for a brief moment, he didn’t know where to start.
And wasn’t that a revelation in itself?
The elevator dinged and he mentally groaned when Vivi Montgomery walked out, carrying a tray.
She saw his frown and grinned. Pure evil, that one. “Don’t act like I’m your worst nightmare. I brought you a topical pain reliever, coffee, and my services. Where do you want me to start?”
“You’re not touching my leg,” he growled.
“Let me rephrase—mytech skills. I have no intention of playing nursemaid beyond handing you some aspirin and refilling your coffee.”
Pure evil with a heart of gold. Was that possible? He’d wanted time alone, but God knew he needed to think and he hadn’t been able to for the past few days. Vivi knew when to talk and when to leave him to his thoughts. Usually. “Beatrice sent you, didn’t she?”
“I come of my own volition. Now, do you want this stuff or not?”
Without waiting for his reply, she slid the tray onto the desk. There was even a cold pack in a stretchy knee brace. He reached for that first and sighed, draping it over the swelling. Ignoring the self-satisfied look on her face, he guzzled half the coffee—perfect temp as always and from her personal stash—and cocked his chin toward the cubicle she often used. “Look into recent muggings in the area. Pinpoint those with assaults and run background checks on the suspects in open cases and those arrested on the others, if they’re out on the streets again.” Busywork. It would keep her out of his hair and away from stumbling on potential landmines. “Print any that tickle your big brain and throw them into TrackMap with Amelia.”
She nodded and sat, waking the computer.
He focused on the three blank screens in front of him, listening to the quiet click of her fingers on the keyboard. He wished he could search Amelia’s apartment, but that was out of the question at the moment since he could barely stand. Ashamed of his physical weakness, he texted Moe, telling him he’d decided his skills were needed here, at HQ, and Moe could have the grunt work of walking the streets and interviewing folks.
Cush life, you got there, mate, was Moe’s reply.You owe me.
He sent back a rude emoji, but at least the bastard hadn’t offered pity or worry about Rory’s physical state.
For now, he had a rabbit hole to dive into, and he needed to come up with an idea for tonight’s dinner.
Chasing bad guys? Easy. Impressing Amelia without a fancy restaurant to back him up?Kill me now.
Booting up his computer, he forced his emotions into the anger hole so he could detach and keep his head as clear as possible. Vivi’s presence might actually be good. He had to stay on guard around her.
Setting the timer on his phone, he placed a silent bet with himself that she’d stay quiet twenty minutes and then she’d find a way to engage him in conversation. Too clever for her own good, she’d start by showing him something innocuous in her research and the next thing he’d know, she’d trick him into facing hisfeelingsabout the incident.
Fuck that. Studying human behavior wasn’t only for psychologists. He’d been a SEAL, a spy, an assassin. For a brief moment, he stared at the back of her head, pretending he could see inside it as he ciphered through the list of data he’d gathered about her. Her only weak spot was her husband. Like all humans, she would do anything to protect those she loved, and while Ian Kincaid was over six feet of solid SEAL himself, and didn’t need protecting, she was a rabid dog about him. If she even tiptoed into the feelings department, he’d bring up Ian’s next assignment.
For the first time since the guy had joined SFI, he was going on a true undercover training assignment. Parker, head of their Covert Ops team, was sending him with Ryker Baptiste and Mia Shane to Germany on a weekend hands-on tutorial to learn about the art of spy craft.
Not that Rory could share details, but…he could taunt Vivi with them.
Hehehe.
She lasted twenty-three minutes. The printer had spit out a few pages, but she was still typing away and reading what her searches brought up when she asked, “What if our mugger simply wanted that handbag, not the contents?”
He was knee-deep in a dark web forum where local criminals came to boast about their offenses. He hadn’t come across any postings that sounded like Amelia’s assault and robbery, but he’d found a thread of someone asking about it. No one had claimed responsibility, which tended to be because it was a street person or non-career criminal who didn’t know about these shadowy groups, or they didn’t want to admit to what they’d done. No one seemed to know any facts about it either, meaning whoever had committed the crime hadn’t bragged on the street. “Already checked local pawn shops,” he told her, frustrated. “Nada.”
“Did you check eBay and the other online resale sites?”
“I put flags on all of them. If that bag goes up for sale anywhere in the world right now, I’ll get a notification.”
