I know, X. I know firsthand.“I’m obviously safe, Chief. I’m right here.”Because of the very man you’re hunting.“I went in with hopes to get a closer look. I saw Bishop. I saw him fight.” Not terribly illegal. “He wasn’t looking all that powerful. He was being beaten to hell in a boxing ring, then dumped outside like trash.”
Narrowed eyes, Banks furiously scribbles notes. “You’re positive? Everything I know about that club puts Bishop as top dog. Flynn was up there, then Bishop came in to the picture, worked his way up.” Looking away from his notes, his eyes meet mine. “I’m not saying you’re lying, but maybe you’re confused?”
“I’m not confused. I saw it with my own eyes. Jules assigned me to the man wethoughtwas Hayes’ second, but I’m not so sure anymore. Maybe we need to look closer at Flynn. What have you got on him?”
Am I as obvious as I feel?
“We have about as much on him as we have on Bishop.” Jules shuffles folders on the oak table and pulls one out. Sliding it over the smooth tabletop, she stops it in front of me. “We were looking at him for a while, but then Bishop turned up and set their place alight. No pun intended.” Her lips twitch at her lame joke. “New, young, hotshot, Bishop became a class favorite, and Flynn became a soldier.”
“Is Flynn pissed?” I flip the folder open to a face I vaguely recognize. “I imagine he’d be pissed if he was top of the food chain, then a younger guy comes in and shakes it up.”
“We don’t know if he’s pissed,” Banks snaps. “It’s not like he leaves his diary out for us to read.”
As one, Jules and I tip our heads to the side at his attitude, but Alex and Oz’s hands drop to their hips. It’s hard to be a professional, to be objective, when four of the five people in the room celebrate Christmas and birthdays together.
I might be a grown adult. I might be tiptoeing toward thirty, and Alex and Oz might both be married with kids, but I’m their kid sister, and Special Agent Fuckface is bordering on disrespect.
Sometimes, their archaic and overprotective ways are annoying, but times like right now, I don’t even mind. Let them step up for me; I still have stitches I can’t tell them about, I’m both rested from our lazy Sunday but mentally exhausted from everything else, and on top of that, I’m very seriously considering tipping off a criminal and telling him to leave town before this Saturday.
“Watch your tone, Agent.” Jules, of course, the leader of our pack, is the one who steps up. And Alex lets her, because she’s badass and can run an empire. “This is my building. My office. My staff. And my information. If you want to continue a cordial working relationship, you’ll speak to her the same way you speak to the chief. If you’d rather do this on your own, don’t let me stop you. Door’s that way, don’t let it hit your ass on the way out. We aren’t the city ‘round here, so you don’t even have to stop in reception to get your parking validated.”
“If you think you can withhold information, Miss Jones, then you have another thing coming.” He sits forward and points. “We have seniority on the Hayes case. We have jurisdiction.”
“I won’t withhold a thing,Nick. I’ll just stop looking into it. I’ll pull my staff back, and I’m sure the local police have idiot teens climbing gantry cranes to deal with. Our girl has been inside that clubtwicethis week.” She pops a brow and runs with my tidbit of information. “How many times have you been in? Sounds like maintaining a local relationship is inyourbest interests. Not ours. We have cornhole to play, and moonshine to make. We have better things to do than to listen to you disrespect my staff. So… if you want to get on with your day, you’re welcome. Conversely, if you want to apologize to Jess, we can continue.”
An hour after Nick’s false apology, Jules’ sneaky wink, and Alex and Oz’s twitching lips hidden by their hands, Special Agent McDouche leaves with a promise to call back in a few hours with more questions.
“Cornhole?” Oz tosses a ball of scrunched paper at Jules’ head. “Woman, you’re the most city person I know. Do you even know what cornhole is?”
“Sure I do. I went to your wedding, didn’t I?”