How was Angus even standing? Scolding him wouldn’t work, and they were under a time crunch. “The brunette is an agent?” Brigid asked.
“Affirmative,” Angus said. “Two other agents, one dressed as a doctor and the other a nurse, told Sean exactly what to do. Right now he’s in protective custody with medical assistance whether he likes it or not.”
Raider sighed. “We’re running out of time for those girls. It’s Tuesday, damn it.” He slammed his fist on the table.
Urgency propelled Brigid toward her computer room, and she tried not to feel guilty that she was happy Raider would have another night to heal before going undercover again.
“Your plan?” Angus called out.
She kept moving. “By the end of today, I’ll know every connection between Eddie Coonan and Senator Tyson as well as everything I can find in their respective backgrounds.” An entire day to herself in front of the computer was exactly what this case needed. “I may break a few laws.”
“I’ve got you covered,” Angus returned, his voice pained. “Do what you have to do.”
She paused at her doorway and partially turned. “Is my father really okay?”
Angus grinned, splitting his lip open again. Then he winced. “Your father is a pain in the butt to the two agents and one doctor staying with him, but yes, he’s safe.”
“Good.” Brigid opened her door, set down her coffee, and started to work three computers at once. Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down to see that it was Agent Rutherford calling. She ignored the call and turned back to learning everything she could about human trafficking while her other searches ran. Soon Agent Fields called, and she declined that call as well. She had much more important issues to work on than talking to those two.
What was there to report? HDD had been brought in on yesterday’s fiascoes.
The phone buzzed again, and her palms started sweating, but her typing didn’t slow. If she had something to report, she would. They needed to leave her alone.
Malcolm brought in tacos from home around noon, and she caught a glimpse of Nari walking by outside. Today the woman wore pressed gray jeans, a floral shirt, and designer boots. Brigid sighed and forced a smile for the ex-cop. “Thank you.”
He looked her over, set down the tacos, and took the other seat. “What is your problem with Nari?” There was mild curiosity but no judgment in his low tone.
“No problem.” Brigid tugged the paper plate toward her keyboard. “I like her. A lot.” Which was the truth.
Malcolm lifted one dark eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”
“I really do.” Brigid took a bite, and flavor exploded on her tongue. She chewed and swallowed. “What are we, girlfriends now?”
Malcolm snorted and extended his muscled arms to stretch. “What’s the deal, Bridge?”
The sweet new nickname warmed her throughout, but she knew the guy wouldn’t let it go until she confessed all. “It’s just that Nari’s always so put together, you know? Pressed clothes, perfectly fit, her hair smooth and glossy.”
Malcolm blinked. “So?”
“So, I knew you wouldn’t get it.” For some reason, he’d always been easy to talk to. The fact that he was an ex-cop and she an ex-con just made the situation more interesting.
“If you want to be put together like that, then do it.” He reached for one of her tacos and bit into it.
“Right.” She rolled her eyes. Her mom had tried everything to get Brigid to like dresses and dolls, but she’d been happy out with the horses and hay. A farm girl through and through, until she’d discovered computers.
Malcolm grinned. “Hey. Take it from somebody who was undercover for two years. You can become anybody you want. Or, you can decide that you don’t like to shop and iron and just be you.” He stood and tapped the top of her head. “I like the you that you are.” Then he disappeared.
She turned back to her computers, her chest warming. How odd was it that a wounded and scarred ex-cop who ranked around ten on the dangerous scale had become her best friend? Smiling, she reached for the last taco.
* * *
After a day reading through the copy of Sean Banaghan’s evidence journal, Raider’s temples ached and his eyes burned. He needed a decent night’s sleep with no pain or drugs. He sat at the far end of the conference table from Angus, who’d kicked his head back and gone to sleep about an hour earlier. His light snoring competed with Roscoe’s snores in the far corner. Every once in a while, one of them would let out a whimper.
Wolfe loped inside, munching on a Rice Krispies treat left by Malcolm. “Nari had a date and Malcolm walked her out. Brigid said she’ll be ready to give a report in just a second.” He pulled out a seat.
Brigid followed, her laptop in one hand and a treat in the other. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face wan, and she’d tied her thick hair on top of her head. Dark red curls cascaded down on either side of her face, giving her a fragile, feminine look. “Okay. I’m ready to talk. I found so much.” In contrast to her eyes, her voice was animated.
His body stopped aching and started humming. Her natural scent wafted toward him, and he straightened in his chair.
