“I want the container locked down tight. No one goes inthere until I give them clearance.” His gruff tone left no doubt of his command. “No one. Hear me?”
“Yes, sir. I can manage security for now, but Cartwright has other ideas and is contacting the FBI’s Seattle office. I’ll need you to get with the bureau on this thing.”
“Then get off the phone and let me get to it.”
Evan glanced at Cartwright, who was pacing and waving his free hand as he talked. No way Evan would let that guy have this investigation. “Before you go, I want to make sure JTTF keeps control of this investigation.”
“I’ll do what I can, but you know how these things go.”
Yeah, Evan did. Politics all the way, and the reason why he was bringing it up. “I don’t mind working with other agencies on this, but I don’t like having done all the legwork to lose out completely.”
“I’ll keep your request in mind. Now secure the container.” Watson disconnected.
Evan approached Cartwright and waited for him to get off the phone. “You can call off your forensic team. We’re locking this place down until further notice.”
He scowled. “Already called off.”
“Not happy with your call, I take it.”
“The ASAC told me to call Watson.” Cartwright shook his head. “Can you believe that? The investigation of a lifetime, and he’s too shortsighted to take the ball and run with it.”
“Sounds to me like he’s politically savvy.” Evan let the comment hang in the air, hoping Cartwright would catch on and emulate the assistant special agent in charge of the Seattle field office and show some smarts.
“Yeah, well, so is Watson,” Cartwright said. “He’s gotta be on the horn to his supervisor already, and it’s going to shoot up the ranks all the way to D.C.”
D.C., right.It might as well be the moon as far as Evan was concerned. Only way he would retain control of thisinvestigation was if he had a connection in the capital with someone who had major clout.
An adorable dark-haired woman’s face came to mind. Kiley. Kiley Dawson. He knew her—had once known her pretty well. Even had a thing for her. Before she became a member of the elite RED team.
With her high-profile job, she likely had the clout he needed to keep control of the investigation, but would she use her influence for him?
Doubtful. Totally unlikely, actually.
With their history, she’d as soon laugh in his face as help him out. There was no point in calling her. No point at all.
CHAPTER 3
KILEY RUBBED THE FOGGY STEAMfrom the locker room mirror and looked at her face in the remaining haze. She’d showered and put on clean clothes she kept at the office for her many all-nighters. Black tactical pants, an FBI logo collared shirt, and her worn tactical boots. Her daily work ensemble. Comfortable and efficient. And when she went to see Firuzeh’s parents she would look the part of a law-enforcement officer. Strong. Capable. When she felt anything but at the moment.
“You can do this. Her parents deserve your best.” She studied her hands again to make sure she’d cleaned off every pinpoint of blood, yet she could still smell the metallic odor and wondered if the scent of Firuzeh dying would ever leave her.
She couldn’t linger on those thoughts. Not if she wanted to do her job—find the killer. Something more important to her than breathing right now. She went to the door and marched straight to Mack’s cubicle, praying he’d have some information about protection that she could share with the Abed family.
The nutty scent of fresh coffee brewing permeated the air. Something she could use right about now. She would grab a cup on the way out the door. Maybe the warm liquid would erase the cold emptiness she felt inside.
Mack leaned back in his chair, phone to his ear, one booted foot on a desk cluttered with files and stacks of paper. He claimed to know where every item was located. She had her doubts about that.
“Get back to me ASAP.” He dropped his boot and looked at Kiley. “Taylor will meet you at the Abeds’ home. We’ll get them settled in temporary quarters, then arrange movement to a permanent city if needed.”
Kiley nodded at the mention of Sean’s fiancée, Taylor Mills, who served as a WITSEC deputy. “Ifthe Abeds go for it.”
“You think they might not?”
She shrugged. “They could have deep family ties in the area and won’t want to move.”
“Or leave their business behind.”
“Could you come with me to explain the process to them in case they have questions? I’m not sure your legendary Texas charm will work on this family, but if anyone can convince them that going into protection is the right move, it will be you.”
