“You might need to go see your optometrist,” he told the pretty fed, watching her slim fingers run through the cat’s fur and imagining what it would feel like for her to touchhimlike that. “Peanut isfarfrom handsome. Note the notched ear, crooked tail, and battle scars from when he fancied himself a badass alley cat.”
“In case no one ever told you, Sergeant Rollins, scars areveryhandsome. They give a face character.” She bent down to rub her nose against Peanut’s and continued in a baby voice, “Don’t they, big guy? Yes, they do.”
Britt had to fist his hands in his lap to keep from reaching up to trace the jagged scar that zigzagged across his temple.
Had she meant that comment for him? Or was that simply what hewantedto think?
“Careful,” Agent Douglas said to the group. “She’ll steal him away from you and add him to her menagerie.” He crossed his arms and regarded his partner with a superior-looking smirk. Britt decided the tall, well-built agent had a very punchable face. “How many rescues are you up to now, O’Toole?”
When the blond sat up, Peanut chirped his disappointment. “Two dogs, one cat, and a foulmouthed African grey parrot,” she admitted with a self-deprecating shrug that Britt found absolutely charming.
Despite himself, he felt his mouth pulling into a grin. “Foulmouthed?” he asked.
O’Toole rolled her eyes. “For fifteen years Gunpowder’s cage was in the office of a weapons dealer. So you can imagine the language he grew up hearing. His favorite phrases aresugar titsanddick breath.” Her sigh was put-upon, but he could tell by the twinkle in her eyes she secretly delighted in the humor of the situation. “My older brothers have banned my nieces and nephews from coming to my house because they claim the kids come home with curse words hot enough to blister their ears. Considering my brothers are firefighters and not known for having very clean mouths, that’s saying something.”
“Gunpowder? Weapons dealer?” He bit the inside of his cheek, loving that he was getting a glimpse past the badge to the woman herself. “That’s a little on-the-nose, don’t you think?”
“Idothink,” she agreed with a nod. “I would’ve gone with Long John Silver since he’s grey. Or Marty McFly since he’s a bird. Which are still on-the-nose, but far superior choices. But his previous owner named him Gunpowder, and who am I to come along and change it after fifteen years?”
Damnit!He liked her. Likereallyliked her.
“Anyway…” She pushed up from the table but sat down heavily again when Eliza said, “Did Senator Chastain tell you her suspicions before she died?”
Britt remained expressionless but his gaze—and every gaze in the room, for that matter—landed hard on Eliza.
Their girl Friday rubbed at her head. “She called me before she died. She told me to be careful who I trust and—” She dropped her hand to snap her fingers. “And I’m just now remembering what she said to me after I regained consciousness and found her and Professor Chastain hiding behind an overturned table.”
The only thing that kept Agent O’Toole from scooting forward eagerly was the bike lift. Even still, she leaned toward Eliza while continuing to absently pet Peanut. “And what’s that?”
“She said, ‘John was right.’”
“Right about what?”
“I don’t know.” Eliza shook her head. “I didn’t ask. I had to go find my phone to call help. But I have to think it means Senator McClean was right about all the people…” She shook her head and rephrased. “I mean, all thepoliticianshe called out for being crooked. Do you think all of this was politically motivated? Like, was he killed to shut him up and everyone else was collateral damage?”
“We’re certainly looking into anyone and everyone who might have considered themselves an…enemy…of the senator’s,” O’Toole assured her.
“But what do you think Senator Chastain meant when she told me to be careful who I trust?”
Agent O’Toole shrugged. “Either she was simply paranoid, or John McClean found out something about someone high in the government and Bethany Chastain was worried this person, whoever they are, had enough clout to do her harm and maybe you too because of your relationship to your father.” She made a face of disgust. “If you want the truth, I think this whole case stinks to high heaven. And even though I haven’t pinpointed where the stench is coming from, believe me, I will.”
“Those aren’t just fine words.” This from Agent Douglas. “O’Toole is like a dog with a bone once she’s on the trail of something big.”
Agent O’Toole shot her partner a surprised look.
“What?” He gave her a laconic shrug. “I never said you’re a bad agent. I’ve just always said I’m a better one.”
“And that’s our cue to leave you good folks to get some rest.” O’Toole pushed up from her stool.
Peanut tried to entice her back by rolling onto his back and meowing at her. But she simply rubbed his potbelly one last time and complimented him again on beingsuch a handsome boy.
Hands were shaken. Goodbyes were said. Two minutes later, Britt found himself escorting the feds across the grounds toward their waiting vehicle. As they made their way over the asphalt, the sounds of a waking city met their ears.
Early-morning commuter trains rumbled in the distance. Taxi cabs idled on corners, waiting for executives to come down out of their condos and hail a ride to work. And streetsweepershissedandgrowledas they finished up their shifts.
It would be an hour before the sun was up. But the sky to the east was no longer as black as pitch. It had lightened to a faint, muddy-looking gray.
“So what’s the red button for?”
