“I’ll show them,” Lucky muttered. “I’ll show them all.”
In the back of his mind, Walter replied,“I know you will.”
***
Lucky glanced over at Bo’s desk. Empty. Johnson ambled down the hall, a coffee cup in each hand.
“Is it just me,” she said, “or is O’Donoghue separating me, you, and Bo deliberately?” She handed Lucky a cup.
Yes, Lucky had noticed how much time Bo spent outside the office, and though he didn’t keep as close tabs on Johnson, she didn’t come around as readily as she used to. “It’s not just you.”
The blame fell squarely on O’Donoghue’s shoulders. Cases that would normally have gone to Lucky were now divided among other agents.
He spent his time trolling the Internet for offers of cheap drugs from Canada or some such rookie work. They paid him good money to work below his paygrade. He hadn’t been assigned to any of the training duties he’d been promoted to.
All because of…
Lucky took a deep breath and exhaled hard. “Let me ask you something. Is there anything about Chastain Pharmaceuticals that struck you as wrong?”
Johnson shook her head. “No. We went down the checklist and added a few stricter requirements. Besides, you’ve done similar audits for years. You knew what you were doing.”
Did he? If he missed something as big as an illegal shipment, no matter how small, he’d fucked up, big time. Not that he’d say so out loud.
“You’re not questioning yourself, are you? Because Bo and I have complete faith in you.”
“If we didn’t screw up, then what went wrong?” He’d staked his reputation, and possibly his career, on searching out any potential trouble spots.
“I don’t know. I wish I did.” Johnson blew into her cup.
The asshole who thought he was in charge could’ve made up the whole thing. He certainly had the opportunity. “I don’t trust O’Donoghue. He’s surrounding himself with his lackeys.” Oh. Johnson’s poor excuse for a boyfriend was the man’s number one flunky. Lucky winced. “Sorry.”
Johnson waved a dismissive hand. “Just because I happen to be dating one of those lackies doesn’t make anything you said less true.”
“Does Phillip… Um… say anything when you’re, you know…” At best she might deck him for asking a personal question, at worse she might tell him way too much information.
She pursed her lips worthy of a bite into a lemon. “No, damn it. And that’s the thing. Lately he refuses to talk work on personal time, and that really bugs me. He’s never been tight lipped before. He’s making me suspicious.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s not the type to do his own thinking. When he does talk he sounds like he’s parroting someone else’s words.” She shifted her gaze left and right and whispered, “He’s hanging out a lot with Owen Landry too. That guy’s a weasel if ever I met one.”
Really? She, Bo, and Landry had trained together, gone on assignments. “What was he like when you first met him?”
“Same as now. A butt kisser. He comes on to anything with two legs too. Not that it gets him anywhere.” Nobody did smug like Johnson. “Kept trying to come between me and Phillip, and I know he tried to get between you and Bo.”
“I thought so. Bo told me I was imagining things.”
“Bo likes to keep the peace. That man of yours can more than handle himself, even if his methods are different from yours and mine.”
True. “He tried with you?”
She patted her hair, worn natural and poufy. “He’s trying to build a power base. For that you need followers. He might impress Phillip, but not me.”
Lucky shook his head. “What do you see in Phillip anyway?” She could do so much better than O’Donoghue’s pet DEA rookie. Anyone who paid attention to Owen Landry wasn’t too bright.
A flush crept up her cheeks. “Let’s just say it’s not due to his stunning intellect and leave it at that.”
Asshole must be doing something really right for a take charge woman like Johnson to keep him around. And no, Lucky didn’t need visuals.
