“Your partner, who works for the FBI.”Stymied, Bowers had changed directions.“Don’t you think that’s a conflict?”
Nic wouldn’t be baited.He’d been ready for this line of attack for some time.“Quite the opposite, actually.”
Bowers rested his forearms on Nic’s desk, staring him down.“Think the Deputy AG will say the same?”
“Considering Jack met me and Cam for lunch in Norfolk and commended our work on cases together, I’m pretty sure he would.”
Bowers’s face fell and his skin blanched.Nic bit back a smug grin.“The fact remains,” Bowers griped, “I need to know when you’ll be out of the office to schedule cases.You’ll need time off for the funeral and to administer your father’s estate.”
Now they were getting to the information Bowers was really after.“I schedule my own coverage and run my own calendar,” Nic said.“Always have.”He didn’t trust Bowers to not crater him.Just like he didn’t trust Bowers asking questions, in a roundabout way, as to how fast his father’s estate would be administered.He did, however, trust that, whatever his answer, it would get back to Vaughn.Nic wanted to test how fast.“As for dealing with my father’s estate, it’s on hold while we await an autopsy.”Let him run with that crumb.
“An autopsy?”Bowers’s beady eyes narrowed.“The news report said he died of a heart attack.”
“He did.”
“Then why?—”
“Covering all my bases.”
The older man stood, coming around the side of the desk, glare imperious.“Seems like a waste of taxpayer money to me.”
No, Vaughn was just impatient to get paid.And maybe also Bowers, if Nic’s compliance was a condition.
“I’ve worked for the government in one form or another for almost thirty years.Longer than you.”Pushing to his feet, Nic circled around the opposite side of the desk, coming to stand behind it.“I think the taxpayers will spot me this one.”
“I thought you were estranged from your father.Why do you care how he died?”
“Because I do serve this country.I am a retired military officer and an officer of the court.It’s my job, my duty to uphold the law.”Where does your loyalty lie?His question was unspoken but clearly hung between them.Bowers didn’t answer, scrunching up his face instead.His usual pissed-off look.
The standoff lasted another couple of seconds until Nic’s desk phone blared into the silence.He glanced down and recognized the number.“I need to take that.”
Bowers moved to button his suit coat and missed the hole the first time.Nic fought his smug smile again until Bowers’s next words wiped it clean.“Be careful, Price.You don’t want to do something that’ll cost you that job you love so much.Or someone else’s.”Challenge—threat—made.
“I know what I’m doing.”And accepted.
“We’ll see,” Bowers muttered on his way out the door.
Fuming, Nic picked up the phone.“Dennis, one second, please.”He tossed the receiver on his desk, crossed his office to close the door, then returned to his chair and picked the phone back up.“You were next on my call list.I assume you’ve heard the news.”
“I’m sorry for?—”
“Save it.You know better than anyone it’s utter horseshit.”
Laughter echoed on the other end of the line.In an ironic twist of fate, his father’s personal attorney had become a mentor of sorts to him.Dennis Selby had been the first to greet Nic at the local bar association when Nic had landed back in San Francisco at the USAO, and he’d been a wealth of information ever since—local politics, confidential informants, and he could get a reservation at any restaurant in the city.
“I was going to say I’m sorry for the headache.”
Nic groaned, closing his eyes and sinking back into his chair.
“I’m afraid that’s the sum of it.Curtis named you executor.”
As Nic expected.He’d already assumed as much—one lastfuck youfrom his father—and he wanted to be the one to administer the estate, to make sure his father’s messes were cleaned up, no longer a threat to Nic’s family.But hearing Dennis say the words, it felt like a noose tightening around his neck.
“At least there’s not much of an estate to manage,” Dennis added.
“Curtis was so far underwater he drowned, just say it.”
Dennis inhaled sharply.“He didn’t really, did he?Because that?—”
