Georgia, where the ATF and FBI trained for fitness and ballistics and a host of other skills. Lord, could this woman be any more perfect?
“Do you need me to give you a list of my achievements?” she continued. “Do you know how much crap I’ve gotten over the course of my career for being female and very good at my job?”
“We can imagine,” Bishop said. “I worked with some of the first women who went through Ranger training.” He looked up from his screen to catch Briar’s eye.“Look, it’s not about you being female.” She glared at him. “Okay, maybe a bit,” he conceded. “But it’s more about making sure we’re all doing what we can to watch each other’s backs.”
Briar didn’t appear convinced, but she nodded.
“I’m not getting much here,” Bishop said as he typed. “I think I need to do this at the office where I can hide behind the firewall. How about I head over there and call you guys in the morning—sooner if I find something big?”
“Sounds like the beginning of a plan to me,” Royce agreed. The first thing they needed was more information and Bishop was the best way to get it.
“Caleb,” complained Bishop, “you jerk, you ate my fries.”
Caleb shrugged his massive shoulders, not looking at all contrite as he popped another of Bishop’s fries into his mouth. “You weren’t eating them. Here,” he pushed Bishop’s fry basket back over to him, “I didn’t eat them all.”
Bishop frowned at the three abandoned French fries for a second before shoving them in his mouth. Royce did his best to hide his amusement at the exchange; they all really were like brothers.
“I should make you walk home.”
“If you give me a ride, I won’t have to call Evi for one, and then she’ll like you.”
“She already likes me,” Bishop huffed, slipping his laptop into his shoulder bag.
“Are they always like this?” Briar asked Royce, amusement in her eyes.
“Yep. Don’t underestimate Bishop though. He was a Ranger. Total marshmallow until the chips are down, then all bets are off.”
The house seemed extra quiet once Bishop and Caleb took off. Bishop was still complaining about Caleb eating his dinner as they headed out the door. Turning from the living room window, Royce heard the car doors slam shut and then the engine noise faded as they drove away.
Royce felt twitchy and restless. The feelings were caused by Briar’s presence in his house, he knew. Probably just by Briar’s mere existence, if he was going to be completely honest. He’d been remembering her as an awkward—although cute—teenager. When she’d stormed into the Sheriff’s Office last night, his memories had been made obsolete.
He wandered back into the kitchen, not sure what to do with himself, or Briar, for the rest of the evening, although a part of him he was ignoring had some compelling ideas. He glanced over to where she was still sitting at the kitchen table and staring into space, no doubt going over what had happened and trying to make sense of it. He liked having her in his kitchen, in his personal space. It wasn’t hard for Royce to imagine Briar in his house on a more regular basis.
He shook his head at the ideas blossoming in his imagination. Briar lived in LA, while he was—reluctantly—the sheriff of a small town in Washington. Their connection was tenuous at best.
But, a little voice whispered, but. She was intelligent, competitive, and had a sneaky sense of humor. And she liked to chase bad guys, just like Royce did. Maybe she would consider working for King Security if she was done with the ATF? Having a woman like Briar on staff could be a huge—
“I’m going to bed,” Briar announced, interrupting Royce’s train of thought. “I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a day too.”
Royce watched her walk away, then quickly cleaned up the mess from dinner, turned out the lights, and made sure the house was locked up and his security system was active. After last summer with Evi, they were all diligent.
Taking one last glance out the window into the dark, Royce tensed as something moved in his peripheral vision. Stepping to the side, he stood completely still, watching until he realized the threat was a raccoon, or possibly an opossum, headed out to find breakfast. He released the breath he’d been holding, another thought bubbling to the surface.
What if it wasn’t Jakes or the Spiders? What if this had something to do with Arkady Ivanof?