“Stop doing that.” She swatted Cole’s arm.
“Doing what?” He scowled down at her.
“You’re being all”—she waved her hand up and down in front of him—“big and scary.”
At six feet eight with long, wavy dark hair and a full beard, not to mention a scar bisecting one of his eyebrows, her husband was the literal picture of big and scary. Except with Dulce and their nine-month-old son, Carter. With them, he was a huge, mushy pushover.
“Come on, Charlotte.” Dulce took her hand. “Let’s go back to my office, and you can tell us what this is all about.”
Charlotte gave Hawk a fast glance, and Cole hung back as the two women headed toward the executive offices.
“Hawk.” His boss tipped his head to the side to call him over. “I’d like you to sit in on this.”
Gladly, he thought. Because whatever was in that envelope was enough to scare Charlotte, startle Dulce, and piss off Cole.
“Remy,” Hawk said, and his partner moved to stand at his right side.
They left the reception area and Cole stopped at a wide door where he tapped his access card to a pad on the wall. He leaned down, placed his eye over a retinal scanner, and waited for the beep before he opened the door leading to the executive hallway.
Neither Hawk nor his boss were big talkers, so they made the trip in silence. The only sound was the rubber soles of their tactical boots and the click of Remy’s nails on the wood floor.
They stepped into Dulce’s office.
“Charlotte, if you don’t mind, I’ve asked Hawk to join us.” Cole closed the door behind them.
“Um, okay.” She didn’t look at Hawk.
“Why don’t we sit down.” Dulce pointed to a massive conference table on the other side of the room, then strolled over to a mini fridge tucked away in the corner of her office. “Would anyone else like a bottle of water or soda?”
“Water would be great.” Cole accepted a bottle of water from her.
“No, thank you.” Charlotte’s grip was tight on the strap of her bag.
Remy walked over to her, nudged her elbow with his nose, and she smiled down at him.
“Hi, Remy.” She squatted down and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I didn’t mean to ignore you.” She kissed the top of his head, and when she stood, Hawk noticed her hold on the bag had loosened.
Good job, Remy.
“Go lay down, bud.” He pointed to an area beneath the large window where the sun shone down on the carpet.
Remy’s tags clinked against his vest as he walked over and sprawled out on his side in the sunny spot. He puffed out a breath and quickly fell asleep.
Cole sat at the head of the table, Dulce took the seat to his right, and Charlotte sat on his left. Hawk would’ve preferred sitting next to her but chose to sit across the table so he could focus on her body language.
He’d spent time with Andi O’Halleran, learning some of her techniques and methods. Hopefully, they would come in handy right now.
Andi also worked for OSI and specialized in reading people’s facial expressions, speech patterns, and analyzing written statements to determine the veracity of what people were saying. Basically, she was like a human lie detector. She was also one hell of a fighter and was married to Jonathan O’Halleran. Together, they ran OSI’s PacNW training facility up in Whidbey Cove, Washington. Though she could often be found knee-deep in a covert operation.
“Babe, do you still have those rubber gloves?” Cole asked his wife.
“Oh, yeah. Let me grab ’em.” She hopped up from her chair, hurried over to a cabinet near the door, and pulled out a box of extra-large disposable rubber gloves.
“Charlotte, did you touch the knife?” Cole asked.
Knife? What the hell?
“I did, but I was careful to use a tissue, and I only grabbed the tip of the blade, just in case.” She lifted her bag over her head and set it on the chair next to her.
