Tom’s eyes widened. “You fucking bitch.” Tom looked between her and Frank. “Half of me thinks youarewith Watchdog and that you're trying to fuck this up for us. You're trying to get us killed.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Frank lifted his hand. “Sylvie would never do that.”
“Well, I don't trust her.”
“Wow. That's some nerve,” Sylvie laughed. “You don't trust me? After what you just did to me?”
“I explained all of that.”
I should have known. Carla doesn't trust you. I don't trust you.” She looked at Frank. “Are you sure your partner isn't on the take?”
Tom stood up. “How fucking dare you? Howfuckingdareyou?”
Frank stood too. He put his hand on Tom’s upper arm and forced the man to sit back down. He looked around, but the other patrons were much too involved in trying to get to the bottoms of their glasses to pay any attention to the three people fighting in the corner.
“She doesn't think that, Tom. She's just pissed. And rightly so. That really was uncalled for. I can't fucking believe you did that.”
“Maybe I just want to get out of all of this alive. Have you thought of that?” He glared at Sylvie. “Back off, back right the fuck off. And while you're at it, tell Carla to back the fuck off, too.”
“Carla’s gonna Carla.”She's gonna have my back just like I have hers, she silently added,and so will Watchdog. Now more than ever, she was convinced they had nothing to do with the cartel. She just had to make Frank and Tom and whatever federal agent was handling them understand that too.
Sylvie took a deep breath and kept her voice low and steady and reasonable. “Set up a meeting for me with your handler. I really wanna talk to him.”
Frank’s face turned bright red with anger. “Sylvie, that's not—”
Now Tom put up a hand. “No, Frank. If she wants to meet him, she can meet him. We let him decide what to do with her. Whether or not to bring her in or muzzle her or get her fired completely. I don't fucking care. Like I said, I just want to get out of this alive, don't you? She's jeopardizing everything. Everything that we've worked for, Frank. I can't let this go.”
“Set up the meeting and it'll be fine,” Sylvie said.
“Will do.” Tom downed his bourbon and soda in two big gulps then pushed away from the table and stood up. He turned and walked out of the bar.
Frank looked beyond pissed. “Rookie, I am so fucking mad. I could fucking strangle you right now. What has gotten into you? This is not respecting the brotherhood.”
“That is not fair, and you know it. I respect the brotherhood just fine, Frank. Enough that I need to get in on this, alright? Just get me a meeting with your guy. I'm telling you; you've got Watchdog all wrong. You want to wrap this up quickly. Let me help you do that then. Is this why nobody can get in to Glass? The Feds wanna talk to him?”
“No. He's being protected from the inside.”
“Robert?”
Frank scrubbed his face. “Not Robert.”
“So Robert doesn’t know about you and Tom?”
Frank dropped his hands. His gaze held hers like a vice. “Robert does not know and he must not know. Nobody in the department does. This has to stay between us for now. You knowing is already too much.”
“So someone in our own department is blocking access to Glass?”
“Higher than that. The last thing they want is for the Feds to come in and talk to Glass. They’re afraid he’s gonna spill his guts to cut a deal and that names will be named. Once that happens, this case will be over. Anyway, I’m hopeful.”
“What doyouknow about Glass? Have you worked with him? Wait, You obviously have because he was relieved to see you and Tom on the scene.”
“If I tell you, will you drop this crazy idea of meeting with our handler?”
Sylvie tilted her head. “That depends on what you give me.”
Frank leaned in and lowered his voice. “Glass is a mule. Brian Taylor is working with him. And Brian is in some deep, deep shit with the cartel. The worst thing his parents could have done was bail him out. He was safer behind bars. Then again, I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd gotten shanked while he was in custody. Accidents happen, you know.”
“Accidents on purpose.” Sylvie added.
