Or adding to the names on the SNB memorial page. He was still an agent after all.
Someone had to tell Johnson about her boyfriend. He glared at Victor and the men he’d brought. “Wait a minute! What are you all doing here?”
“I had it on good authority that you wouldn’t quietly go home, so we watched you, and…” Victor flashed an apologetic smile.
“You used me and Bo as fucking bait?” Lucky might be shorter, less powerful, and much less dangerous, but he rose up on his toes in Victor’s face. “You insufferable bastard! Bo coulda been killed!”
Victor never even flinched. “Actually, we expected Schollenberger to drive and stay on the road. You evaded our roadblock.”
Oh. The cops on the driving app.
Lucky needed to punch someone, something. Bo placed a hand on his shoulder. “Lucky, calm down. I’m fine, but you need to be checked out.”
“I do not, I…” He muttered every step of the way as Bo half dragged, half pushed him to a waiting ambulance. Lucky stopped struggling when paramedics brought over a sheet-draped gurney.
Walter, lying on the floor. Walter, lips blue, not breathing.
Time stood still. Each heartbeat, each breath, thrummed in Lucky’s ears.
Alive. Lucky lived. Bo lived. Walter lived.
Everything else was details.
Chapter Twenty-six
Lucky sat inhischair in the boss’s office.Theboss’s office.
Walter sat behind the desk, out of place without the usual clutter obstructing Lucky’s view. Give him a few days, he’d have the surface piled to the ceiling with folders and reports. Lucky pointedly ignored the cane propped against the wall, the sunken-in cheeks, and additional gray in Walter’s hair.
“You wanted to see me?” At one time, being called into this office would’ve given Lucky the screaming shivers. Not anymore. He’d gladly sit still for a dressing down, as long as Walter Smith delivered the ass-chewing.
“Excellent work, as usual, Lucky. Even though you had to go out on your own because you were mistrustful of proper channels.” Walter gave Lucky a healthy dose of stink eye.
“If by proper channels you mean O’Donoghue, then yeah, I didn’t trust him.” Lucky still didn’t, truth be told.
“If the two of you had joined forces, you might have resolved the issue earlier, but I already counseled him for not trusting you, in whom I put my utmost faith.”
Say what? “Do you mean to tell me you told him off?” Maybe Keith had the right idea, installing cameras in the boss’s office, not that he’d let Keith know. They’d come together for the good of the department, but now with the crisis passed, all bets were off.
Walter’s eyes twinkled. “Let’s just say that I don’t think he’ll make the same mistake again.”
“What about the rest of ‘em?” They were O’Donoghue’s minions, after all.
“Landry seems to have been the mastermind, and the one destined to become a Forsyth Pharmaceuticals executive. Greg Rogers and Phillip Eustace followed his lead.”
Phillip Useless was more accurate. How would Loretta Johnson handle her boyfriend being locked up because of Lucky?
Lucky squirmed to get more comfortable in his seat. Being battered about in a Durango left him stiff and sore, and not in a good way. Thank God for family-sized bottles of ibuprofen. “Did he hire the hitman?” Hadn’t Cruz said something to that effect?
“Landry did the actual hiring, but evidence leads straight back to Forsyth Pharmaceuticals. There’s much money to be made in big pharma, and the new drug Chastain developed would have made Forsyth billions, and provided millions to the CEO in bonuses, among others. Several of his staff members have now joined him in custody.”
Money, the root of all evil, Lucky’s mother used to say. “What happens now?”
Walter’s clear eyes burned with intelligence. Hallelujah. No long-term effects of whatever coated the coffee cup he’d touched. “The Atlanta office will close for approximately two weeks, as data is sorted and the department restructured, due to the involvement of so many members of the team, no matter how temporary they might have been.”
“Are you okay?”
“My doctor says I’ve made remarkable progress. I’m getting stronger every day.”
