A K-cup coffee dispenser sat gathering dust on a cabinet, while an overly large coffee cup sat on Walter’s desk, the plain kind found in the department’s break room. It’d take too many K-cups to get Walter’s morning going.
The same overflowing bookcases lined one wall, with the cheesy “It Takes Teamwork” poster hanging behind Walter’s desk. Windows to the right of the bookcases offered a view of the street and let some light into the room.
The furniture hadn’t changed in Lucky’s time with the bureau, a long way from new even on his first day on the job.
The oversized mahogany furnishings suited Walter, a man who cared more about work than appearances and chose function over statement. At six feet six, and with a linebacker’s body gone to seed, Mt. Walter made an imposing figure no matter who else entered the room, commanding attention with shrewd-eyed perception and a reputation for taking care of his own while making crime bosses shake in their shoes.
Fear or respect. You’d give the man one or the other. Sometimes both.
Nearly every inch of the desktop held papers, folders, the coffee cup, and assorted pens and paperclips. He’d carved out a small empty spot directly in front of him to rest his folded hands.
“Ah, Lucky. Good morning!” Walter’s not-quite-a-smile didn’t lift the folds of his jowls. He didn’t even make a crack about Lucky’s attire. He peered over the tops of his bifocals, a familiar gesture.
Lucky sank into the chair in front of Walter’s desk, unease building inside. He’d known the man too long not to recognize the somber mood.
For ten minutes Walter prattled on, more breakroom gossip than business. So unlike him. Normally he came right to the point. Small talk wasn’t his style.
Lucky waited him out.
Walter steepled his fingers, elbows on the desk. Uh-oh. Shit, meet fan. “Now, while I have you in here, there’s another matter I’d like to discuss with you.” The businesslike tone matched the boss’s neutral expression.
What had Lucky done now? Or what was he going to be asked to do that he wouldn’t like? He forced himself not to slouch and show the sudden twisting in his gut. Walter didn’t often take an overly stern tone with Lucky, normally saving the professional side of himself for reporters, pharmaceutical company directors and, well, others. Not Lucky.
“What’s up?” Lucky ventured. Oh, God. Had Walter volunteered him for something?
As practiced as he’d ever heard his boss speak, Walter said, “I’m not getting any younger.”
Lucky jerked. “What?” Oh shit. Surely not… “You’re not sick or nothing, are you?” His biological father still recovered from a near-fatal illness, courtesy of a chunk of Lucky’s liver. He couldn’t stand for anything to happen to the man who’d taken on the role during his family’s rejection.
Walter waved a meaty paw. “Other than high blood pressure, a touch of arthritis, and failing eyesight, which I’ve battled for years, no. However, a man in my position, whom others depend upon, in many cases during a life or death situation, should be at the top of his game. I’m long past.”
Lucky didn’t need to rely on the information he’d gotten from a body language class to pick up on the cues. Walter wouldn’t meet his eyes—a rare occurrence—and tapped his fingers on the desktop. He wasn’t happy.
“You’ve always been there for me. I’ve no complaints.” Pulling from the cocky guy act he defaulted to when in doubt, Lucky added, “And mine’s the only opinion that matters, right?” He forced a grin.
Walter laughed. “Still the same old Lucky. Please. Don’t change. This department needs you just as you are.”
What the fuck? “What are you talking about?”
The gale force winds of Walter’s sigh should’ve ruffled the endless piles of paper on his desk. “The powers that be have suggested that, perhaps it’s time to pass the torch.”
Lucky shot to his feet. “They want you to retire?” How dare anyone suggest age made Walter a lesser man.
“Lucky, sit down. While I appreciate your outrage on my behalf, they do make a point. I haven’t met the requirements for field work in quite some time.” He patted his paunch. “New technology, new methods. The department needs to keep up with the times. I’m too old-school, apparently.”
Lucky ignored the order to sit. If he didn’t let off some anger by pacing, he’d slug something. “They’re forcing you out? Who?”
Even with being ousted hanging over his head, Walter remained a company man, through and through. “After careful consideration, and poring over the job requirements and qualifications, I’ve come to realize they’re right.”
“What? No!” The SNB without Walter? Hell, Walterwasthe fucking SNB. “I supposed they’re trying to promote some college-educated hot shot who doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground and call it improvement.”
Walter barked a laugh. “Despite how hard you are on yourself, you’re probably the most loyal agent, or man, for that matter, I’ve ever had the pleasure to know.”
Now Walter sounded like he was dying, not retiring. Of course, given his dedication to the job, there might be little difference in his mind.
“When?” Surely, they’d not force him out immediately.
“My replacement is currently being sought. Given the stringent requirements, I estimate six months.”
