“Okay, boss,” I said to Tara.
“Yes,former boss?” she replied with a wink.
Her emphasis reminded me of leaving the bureau, which was one of the reasons Kyle was so pissed at me. Regardless, it was good seeing them again.
“Am I going to wait for Mick to dump some information, or is someone going to give me an idea of what the hell is going on here?” I didn’t have patience for Mick’s usual obsession with making sure all his gadgets were working properly.
“Well, considering your call to the bureau,” Tara said, “I take it you’ve already drawn the conclusion that we have a mole on our hands.”
“Yes, we got that the other night when Ty and I were jumped by some goons not far from my place. That’s when I headed here, alerted the IPB, and contacted you guys.”
“We already had an issue before your call,” Tara said.
“And no one told me?”
“You’re not IPB,” Kyle said in that familiar, annoyed tone, reminding me of how he’d fought for me to stay before my retirement.
But no. I was done. Out of the game for good. Too many years, too much company politics for my liking. It was time, and once I made a decision, even a stubborn ass like Kyle wasn’t going to get me to change my mind.
“Kyle, cut the passive-aggressive bullshit and tell me what the hell is going on before I make sure both your cheeks match.”
“You want to start that again, fine by me,” Kyle growled as he made to stand.
“Enough,” Tara commanded in a voice so quiet that Kyle and I both knew playtime was over. It was evident that if we started a fight again, she intended to end it. “Jamie Kerson and Spencer Ryan are dead.”
My limbs went numb.
“That’s not possible,” I said softly, hardly able to comprehend what she’d just shared.
“It’s true,” Kyle added, his expression somber.
Spencer Ryan.
My mentor.
My ally.
My friend.
Gone?
“God-fucking-dammit,” I said as I put my arm around Ty. I knew what the guys would think of the gesture, but I didn’t give a flying fuck. Some part of me just wanted to keep him as close and as safe as I could.
The potent sensation of grief started to run its course, but I shelved it the way I shelved so many emotions, just as I needed to, just the way Spencer taught me to.
Time to grieve later. Think, Liam. Think.
“Two retirees,” I noted. “And then me. Anyone else?”
Kyle shook his head. “Not that the IPB has made us aware of. It was Spencer first and then—”
“Hold up,” Mick said. “Come on. I just need a second to get this going, and then I can present everything in an organized, coherent fashion, thank you very much.”
“Please, take your time,” I mocked. “Maybe six or seven more agents could be dead before you finish playing with your little PowerPoint.”
He scoffed. “I don’t use PowerPoint, but I do have a presentation. I mean, come on. We have a new guy here.”
Kyle rolled his eyes, but judging by Ty’s confused expression, I appreciated Mick’s consideration, especially since Ty was going to need a crash course in IPB politics.
