“You and she function as a team? Or you split her up? Put her with the rookie?”
I had, in fact, teamed Cassie up with Richie. But not for the reasons Poulton was implying. “She works with Richie Brancato.”
“Well, for right now, she works with you.”
“Sir?” I said, a question more than an answer.
“You and Pardo peel off and fly to Miami by seven p.m. tomorrow. I want you fresh in Hambis the following morning. Kemp called me from ATF. Said he liked you. Gave you free rein.”
“Yes.”
“I wouldn’t have made that decision.”
I said nothing, and Poulton waited.
“I need to know that you hear me, Camden,” he said. “Before we get any deeper. You. Tomorrow night. Flying to Miami.”
I wasn’t hesitating because I planned to defy Poulton’s orders. If I had known he was making this move, I would’ve picked Shooter instead of Cassie. Because of her experience, she’d be stronger on the weapons case. But knowing the director’s personality, switching personnel now would be perceived as weakness or indecision.
“I hear you,” I said.
“Do you? ’Cause I think you’re in Hambis the other day, and you’re outside my office here in D.C.”
“It was my belief that—”
“Then I think you’re in D.C.,” Poulton cut in. “And you email me that you’re in Texas.”
“Sir,” I said. “There are innocent women who—”
“Tomorrow night,” he interrupted, “I don’t want to find out you’re somewhere other than Miami. And there’s one way I make sure of that. Someone else starts project-managing you.”
“Director Poulton,” I said.
“You have tomorrow to work on this… whatever it is. The day after, Miami, first thing,” he said. “You manage two cases. Or I’ll find someone to manage you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I might find someone anyway. You four are juggling a lot, you know.”
“Yes, sir,” I said again. Which was usually effective for getting Poulton to stop talking.
The director hung up, and I headed off to meet Richie at the rental car downstairs. On the way, I texted the team:
6 am start time tomorrow.
Richie was staring at his phone when I got there.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
I nodded. Everything was all right.
Except for Poulton.
And the fact that my team had dug up six bodies in the last twenty-four hours.
And we had one day to solve an active serial murder case. One that was somehow connected to Freddie Pecos, even though we still had no idea how.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
