Who would’ve called? A former cult member? Or the cult itself? This wasn’t making sense. Mal rubbed his aching temples as the elevator landed with a bounce and opened its doors.
Dr. Zhang was waiting, sitting on a desk in yoga pants, a tank top, and a pink sweatshirt. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, and her smooth face looked pissed. Oh.
The dog barked once and bounded to her. Her expression softened just a little, and she leaned down to pet Roscoe’s head. The dog made happy snuffling noises and sat, his tail wagging on the concrete. Then she reared back up as Force exited the elevator behind Mal. “Why are we here at this odd hour?”
“Sorry it’s not the nine to five you’re used to. Why don’t you tell us why you’re stuck here with us, and I’ll try to be more considerate?” Angus strode by her toward his office, not bothering to look.
She slid from the desk to her feet, her mouth opening and her chin dropping. Red flushed across her high cheekbones.
Mal held up a hand. “Give us a second, Dr. Zhang. Please.” He followed Angus into his office and shut the door, leaning back against it. “What the hell was that?”
Force moved around his desk and pulled out a chair. “What?” White lines cut along the sides of his mouth, and a muscle ticked visibly in his neck. His hands were steady, but fury glowed deep in his green eyes. “Have a seat.” He gestured to one of two folding chairs facing his scarred wooden desk.
A dented file cabinet and several stacked evidence boxes were the only other furniture in the room.
Mal didn’t move. “She’s a shrink. Our shrink on this.”
Force blinked. “I didn’t ask her here. Even more disturbingly, I don’t know why she’s here. What’s wrong with her?” Color filled his face.
Mal leaned his head back, amusement taking him by surprise. “Wrong with her? What? Anybody who’d want you for a friend must have something wrong with them?”
“Everybody here has issues.” Force ground his back teeth together.
“You should probably apologize to her.” Mal shrugged. “If there’s something wrong with her, it’d be better if she trusted us.” Man, he hated falling back on old habits, but trust was crucial in getting close.
“I know. You’re right. I’ll talk to her.” Force glanced at his watch. “It’s three in the morning. Why don’t you take a look at the file we’ve just compiled about the bodies? The information might somehow come in handy when you go back in.”
“I’m heading back to the cult in the morning,” Mal said, his chest aching a little bit. “The family has made me feel all welcome and needed.”
Force’s eyes sharpened. “Have they, now?”
Mal nodded. “Yeah. I have pictures and an idea of the hierarchy. There are two men I’d like to take out. Clear a path in the upper echelons for a screwed-up ex-cop who knows how to shoot.”
“Okay.” Force stood. “Let’s talk strategy the second Wolfe gets here. I called him when I called you. Where is he?”
Mal opened the door and let Force move past him. “Apologize to her,” he whispered, sucking in air when Force elbowed him in the gut. “Butthead.”
The elevator dinged, and they crossed the bull pen to where Nari was still petting a nearly purring Roscoe.
Mal looked up, expecting to see Wolfe. Instead, a man and a woman stepped off. He stilled. The guy was in his early thirties, with a dark jacket, a pressed shirt with tie, black hair, and perfect posture. The woman had wild reddish-blond hair, green eyes, and was wearing a peach-colored prison jumpsuit. Interesting.
Force moved forward. “It’s about time.” He nodded. “Special Agent Raider Tanaka and consultant Brigid Banaghan, please meet Dr. Nari Zhang and Special Agent Malcolm West.”
Tanaka nodded his head.
The woman just looked around, her shoulders straight. “This isn’t much better than a prison cell.” Her soft voice held the faintest lilt of Ireland in it.
Force chuckled. “That’s where you’re wrong. Wait until you see the computer room.”
Banaghan’s eyes started to gleam. “Computer room?” The dog turned around, viewed the duo, and then went nuts. He snarled and barked, leaping toward them, spittle flying from his mouth.
Tanaka shoved the woman behind him. “What the hell?” He reached for a weapon at his waist.
“Wait,” Force snapped. “Roscoe. Down, damn it. Down.” The agent jumped between the dog and Tanaka, blocking the other man with his body. “Your tie. Give me your tie.”
Tanaka kept his gaze on the dog. “What?” he snapped.
“Your tie. Hand it over,” Angus ordered urgently.
