As Becca’s girlfriend and the key to the operation, she’d had a front row seat to everything.And a little sister she was trying to protect.That had been what led Abby to the courthouse to find Nic, sent to him by another contact he’d worked a deal for.She’d been the break in the case they’d sorely needed.
Bowers apparently thought she was the key to today’s mishap as well.“Why aren’t you interrogating Monroe already?”he blustered from over the threshold.
Nic forced his lip not to curl.“Abby just got here from holding an hour ago.It took some time for the legal paperwork to process on a Saturday.I checked on her.She’s understandably upset after this morning.I’ll question her when she’s calmed down and able to focus.”
“She’s not a witness, Price.She’s a suspect.Take off the kid gloves.”
Nic rubbed a hand over his mouth, trapping his retort.
“Maybe I should question her,” Bowers said, misreading Nic’s restraint as hesitation.“Maybe that scene today shook you up too.”
It had, not that Nic would ever admit it to another soul, especially Bowers, and especially when Bowers was wrong about why the botched raid had thrown him for a loop.For fuck’s sake, he was former Special Forces and a fifteen-year prosecutor, first with the JAG Corps and then the US Attorney’s Office.He’d unfortunately seen worse—more blood and guts and foul play in his lifetime than anyone should ever witness.Anica Kristic bleeding out, Becca turning on her crew, even the shots fired on the surveillance van, were not why his mouth had gone dry and his skin still felt like it had baked in the desert sun.No, the source of Nic’s earlier distress was now safe two floors above in the FBI’s offices.
Thanks to that, the scene earlier today no longer affected him, and he’d have no trouble questioning Abby.His only trouble now was his goddamn boss.Bowers wanted him to go in there swinging, which was Bowers’s style, and it worked for him most of the time.For Nic too, when he needed to go on the attack.But this wasn’t that situation.Abby was his CI.He knew her and Bowers didn’t.Bowers thought she was just another suspect, another lead to work, and that would be Bowers’s primary focus with DOJ breathing down his neck.He didn’t see Abby as a victim too.Blaming Abby and strong-arming her was not the best way to the answers Bowers wanted.
“We need this one, Price.”
“Understand that, sir,” Nic said.“Scott’s in custody, as is their B&E guy.With Abby’s testimony, Mike will flip and Scott will plead out too.”
“And Rebecca Wright?The new crew she’s working with?”
“No activity, according to the Bureau.We’re aiming to extract possible locations, among other things, from Scott and Mike in exchange for pleas.”
“We could use Kristic and those artifacts as bait.Or your CI.”
Swinging was one thing, sacrificing another.No stopping Nic’s lip curl this time.
Do whatever and sacrifice whomever to make the case.There had to be a line, and he and Bowers disagreed frequently where that line was.
But at least he generally knew where it would land with Bowers.As ready as he was to be rid of Bowers, who would Justice appoint next?It sure as fuck would never be him in the boss’s chair, not that he wanted it.He had more flexibility and more court time as an AUSA, picking and trying cases and putting away criminals, versus admin bullshit and political ass-kissing.Besides, he’d ruffled too many feathers, had had too many lovers, and had too many skeletons in his and his family’s closets to clear full-blown hearings.More than that, he was gay, very out about it, and that wouldn’t fly with the current administration, even at a post in San Francisco.Maybe if he were bisexual, like Cam, he could pull it off, but he wasn’t.He liked men, period.He’d never wavered, even when his sexual orientation had gotten him disowned.
“I don’t think that’s the right move yet,” Nic answered, a hedge without being in open rebellion.There’d been enough of that last year.He was lucky to still have his job, even if the chain of command had soured.
“Monroe thinks she’s bait regardless,” Bowers said.“Why not use her?”
“Doesn’t mean she should be.Let’s try the less dangerous route first.Avoid any more deaths if we can help it.Abby will come around and give us what we need.She’s just a little rattled still.”
Bowers’s glowering visage indicated he wanted to argue more, but he deferred for now.“Fine.So long as you get her unrattled and ready for the arraignment.”
“Working on it, sir.”
Following his boss out, Nic closed the war room door behind them.At the elevator bank, Bowers boarded a cab down, probably back to finish his round of golf.Good, less chance of him interfering.Nic walked on across the main floor, empty on a Saturday afternoon, to the small conference rooms at the far end.
“How’s she doing?”he asked Tony, the guard posted outside the room where Abby was waiting.
“Gave her the tablet with an audiobook on it, like you suggested.”The big man smiled, shaking his head.“Peeked in a few times.Never seen anyone take notes like that except in class.”
Nic opened the door and sure enough, Abby had both earbuds in, listening intently, while filling a yellow legal pad with barely legible script.Spotting him, she breathed out a relieved sigh, then held up a single finger, signaling him to wait.
He gestured for her to continue and slid into the chair across from her.
With her free hand, she absently twirled a ringlet of hair around her finger, the purple streaks complementing her brown skin and olive eyes.A minute later, she paused the playback and popped out the earbuds, looking up at him.
“What’d you detect?”Nic asked.
“Narrator’s from California.When she does the British accent, there’s no underlying lilt or drawl like the little extra twang when an American from Texas or the South tries to pull off the Queen’s English.”
“Can you mimic it?”
