‘We finished the interview. The dude only gave a shit about the building not being compromised and wanting to see you. We saw the autopsy from Chris, and are heading to the local homeless encampment by the river. We’re going to ask around. Did you know he had a missing kidney? We just saw the autopsy report.’
She showed them.
“Well, that’s how I like my agents. Proactive. I was going to have to assign a duty, but they went there on their own. If the two cops can follow that, they have a spot on my team. That’s why Alex has been with me for as long as he has been.”
He had issues, but beneath that were good cop skills. He could Fed with the best of them.
Rattling off a text back, she clued them in.
‘Good work, Alex. Thanks for handling that for me. Later, we’ll get together and talk about what we’ve all found. Dinner at the hotel will be a good spot. Check-in and we’ll meet you there after you interview some homeless people. If you come across any more homeless veterans, let me know.’
She sent it.
While she was here, she’d help anyone she could. It wasn’t like she could take the money with her when she died.
Why not make people’s lives better?
“Well, that’s handled. If Trenton Balkin thinks I’m spending my time talking to him, so he can bitch and moan, he’s got another thing coming. I don’t do bureaucrats. Just like I don’t cater to rich, entitled men like Devon Slater. I’m an equal opportunity hater.”
Gene pointed one thing out.
“You’re rich and you’re married to rich men. On top of that, Gabe is a bureaucrat, and you’re kinda one too.”
She flipped him off.
“And you were in contention for my favorite. That isn’t happening now, Chuckles. That’s on you.”
Gene just snorted.
“Well, that love affair ended quickly,” Ethan stated, amused.
It was kind of funny, especially since she didn’t play favorites.
Ever.
Elizabeth pointed out the obvious.
“I’m not elected. I’m just a prisoner to all of this,” she admitted. “Or hostage. I’m not sure what yet. When I know, you’ll all know.”
Speaking of hostage situations, she dialed a very familiar number.
Gabe’s.
Since his name came up, she wanted to do her due diligence when it came to research. She couldn’t let it rest on the whole team when she ran this shitshow.
She needed information on an entitled rich man.
When Gabriel Rothschild answered his private number, he went there.
“What did you do?”
That amused her.
Why?
That was a joke between them. He’d been asking her that for as long as she was a Fed, and they’d known each other. Ironically, more times than not, he was right.
“Nothing yet, but the day is young. I caught a case, and your name came up.”
