I blew out a slow breath, trying my best to keep my frayed nerves and my temper at bay. “I know ya do and I can understand why you’d be suspicious about Wes, especially with this sketch.” I looked down at the crumpled paper before shaking my head. When I looked back up at them, I felt anger all over again. “Listen, Cassidy, I can tell ya right now, he doesn’t have it in him to kill anyone or associate with people who’d beat up a priest. It’s just not within the man’s character. The only reason he was with me at the church at all last night was so he could help feed the homeless and pass out donated clothing. Does that sound like someone who’d kill someone or send thugs to beat up a priest?”
“Patsy,” Candy said, sounding pained. “You hardly know the man yourself. How do you know what he’s capable of?”
“Because I just bloody well know. He’s not capable of killin’ a man and then sendin’ thugs to threaten a wee girl through her priest!” I felt fury rush over my skin even as doubt began creeping in. “Even though I don’t know him at all well, I know he’s a kind and decent man. There’s some things ya just know.” When Candy opened his mouth to protest, I looked for support from my brothers who were all standing around. “All of us have been trained to sense good and bad in people. None of ya can deny that.” Without hesitation, they all nodded.
“He’s right, Captain,” Nash said. “We’re the next best thing to bullshit detectors out there.”
Someone in the crowd chuckled but I ignored it, turning back to Cassidy who was watching me with interest. “Yer a Navy SEAL, Cassidy. Tell me I’m wrong.”
He frowned at me for several long seconds before finally shaking his head. “No, you’re not wrong, Patsy, and I’m very sorry if I came off sounding like I don’t trust you.” He put hishand on my shoulder, giving me the briefest squeeze. “But we still need to talk to Mr. Chaudry.”
I nodded. “Fine, but I want to be with ya when ya do.” Before he could say anything, I held up my hand. “I have to write an incident report about our latest Op which is why I’m here and then—” I looked at Candy. “Do I have to meet with the psychologist today?”
Candy eyeballed me thoughtfully. “No, but I can’t let you participate in any further operations until she clears you, Patsy.”
“That’s not a problem, boss.” I glanced at Cassidy. “Can ya wait until I finish my report? It’s goin’ to take at least an hour.”
Cassidy exchanged a glance with Mike, communicating silently with him. When he turned back to me, I was relieved at his expression.
“Sure, Patsy. Mike and I will grab some coffee.”
“I’m glad that’s settled. Get to writing your report, Good.”
I nodded sharply. “Yes, sir.”
Chapter Eight
PATSY
I finished my report as quickly as possible, not skimping on the details Candy and the SAC would need. Whenever an agent discharged a weapon, there would be scrutiny, especially when a suspect was shot. I’d be having an interview with OPR in the next couple of days and, as Candy said, until I’d jumped through the psychologist’s hoops, I’d be confined to the office.
I changed out of the FBI sweats I’d put on in the BearCat. I wanted to leave the office in my own comfy jeans and T-shirt. Cassidy and Mike walked me out to the car park, then followed me home. I started thinking about the conversation I’d had with them in the office, turning it over and over in my head until I had a bloody awful headache by the time I parked my VW. I’d really hoped to be coming home from a long day at the office to share a quiet evening with Wes. He intrigued me. Once he’d shed some of his shyness and begun to open up, I’d found a gentle, brilliant man underneath the messy clothes and battered trainers.
Cassidy and Mike followed me to the front door and the minute I opened it, the smell of something amazing greeted me. I couldn’t help smiling at the idea that Wes had taken the time to make me something for tea. As soon as I stepped into the apartment, I stopped short, glancing around.Holy Mother of God!
It looked completely different…cleaner and tidier than I’d ever seen it. Gone were the stacks of magazines, grubby shoes, clothes, and piles of dirty dishes. There were hoover marks on the carpet. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bothered tohoover, much less remove the layer of dust I could draw pictures in, on every piece of furniture I owned. The lights were on, candles were lit, and low, and classical music came from the old console stereo I’d found at a flea market.
“Wes?” I called out when I didn’t see him in the kitchen. When he didn’t immediately answer, I said, “Have a seat, guys. Let me find him.”
“No problem, Patsy. We’ll wait here,” Mike replied.
I didn’t miss the way they subtly moved their hands to the weapons holstered at their waists. Resigned, I didn’t wait for them to sit before striding down the hall. Wes came walking out of the bedroom just as I reached it. He grinned the moment he saw me. “Hey,” I said, smiling back.
“Patsy, I wasn’t sure when you’d be home.” Something in my expression must’ve given him pause, because the sweet smile disappeared. He reached out and took my biceps in his big hands, squeezing gently.Murderer. Pah!“What’s wrong? I know I took some liberties around the house…I mean I cleaned up a bit,” he suddenly rushed to say. “And I know I was being presumptuous but—”
“Wes,” I said softly. “It’s not that. I love what ya did—and we’ll definitely be talkin’ about the amazin’ smell of food in the house in a wee bit. But right now, the two detectives ya met last night are here with some questions for ya.”
The momentary flash of fear in his eyes made my stomach do a flip-flop as he dropped his hands. “Why?” He frowned. “This isn’t about whoever broke into my car…I told you I didn’t want trouble, Patsy.” He looked past my shoulder toward the front room.
“Wes…it’s not about that. I made ya a promise,” I said quietly. “They have some questions about somethin’ else.”
“What?”
“They have a few questions about Marigold and her mother.”
He looked back at me. “I don’t even know them.”
“I know. Just tell them that. It’ll be good as gold. I’ll be with ya.” I wasn’t sure how he’d take my offer, but hoped he’d know I was only trying to be supportive with the two detectives. I really needed him to trust me, just as I needed to trust Cassidy and Mike to be fair. It’s the reason I considered them friends, and why I’d reached out to them rather than some random LAPD uniform to interview Father Gilmartin.
