***
“I’m telling you, she went straight to the sonofabitch and told him what I said!” Lucky lay on his side of the bed. Arguments weren’t conducive to cuddling. Why wouldn’t Bo believe him?
Bo remained silent for a moment before answering, “Are you saying you want me to transfer?”
“What? Oh, hell no. It’s all I could think of at the moment. I could have said anything and she’d have gone running to Fuckwad O’Donoghue.”
Bo kept his voice annoyingly calm. “She’s your friend, Lucky. My friend. She’s also not an O’Donoghue fan. Are you sure someone else didn’t walk by and hear you?”
“No one did. It was just me and her. Not an hour later O’Donoghue wanted to talk and fed me my own lie.”
Bo lay on his side, propped up on one arm. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
Chapter Nine
“Come in, sit down.” O’Donoghue waved Lucky in. As if he needed an invite to park his ass in his own butt print. He lugged in the favorite chair he’d found in a store room. The chair belonged to Lucky, and in Walter’s office. Only, he should be here talking to Walter.
Instead, Walter lay in a hospital bed, unconscious. Lucky glanced at the floor, where he’d seen Walter lying so still, lips blue, heart failing. He shook himself. No time to worry now, when facing a man who definitely didn’t have the bureau’s best interests at heart.
O’Donoghue raised his brows at the chair but said nothing, sitting behind the brand-new desk, a laptop in front of him, along with a can of ink pens and a coffee cup. Nothing else. No paper mounds. No files. All signs of Walter were gone, like he’d never even been there.
Out of the office two weeks and already this opportunistic bastard moved in. Well, he’d better not get too comfortable, because Walter would be back. If and when he chose to retire, it’d be someone from the SNB replacing him, not Jameson Fucking O’Donoghue.
The moment the boss got back, O’Donoghue better get his ass back to his ownborrowedoffice. Or better yet, go back to Assholeville or wherever else he came from.
“You wanted to see me.” A statement, not the question Lucky would have asked Walter. He sprawled in the chair. Maybe a man who prided himself on reading body language might take Lucky’s slouch and crossed arms for,“Spit it out, you insignificant moron. Quit wasting my time.”
O’Donoghue tutted. “Harrison, what am I going to do with you?”
Not a damned thing. Not even with someone else’s dick. Lucky didn’t give the jerk the dignity of a spoken reply.
The man who’d never boss Lucky tapped a finger against his laptop, much as Walter might have done to the stack of folders normally piled to a toppling threat on his desk. “At one time, you were the best agent in the department.”
“Still am.” Always would be. Except maybe for Bo. And possibly Johnson. One day. Whatever the poser alluded to on the laptop changed nothing.
“I’m afraid Walter’s affection for you might have blinded him to a few oversights.”
“What oversights?” Lucky might not be sure of much in the world, but he’d damned sure crossed the T’s and dotted the I’s at work.
Sort of.
O’Donoghue waved his hand toward the laptop screen. “Now don’t get me wrong, we appreciate the excellent work you’ve done for us in the past, especially under the circumstances.”
“What circumstances?”Us?
The man who’d never fill Walter’s barge-sized shoes gave Lucky a bland expression, tinges of his New York beat cop accent bleeding through his otherwise controlled tones. “Your felony conviction. Walter took a big chance recruiting you, even challenging his superiors.”
An invisible gut punch stole Lucky’s breath. He clenched his jaw and still managed to get out, “I did my time. I’ve got a clean slate. Even a new name. Walter said the past didn’t matter anymore.”
O’Donoghue steepled his fingers, elbows on the desk, a familiar gesture, bringing Walter to mind. The similarities between Walter and O’Donoghue stopped there. “And it shouldn’t. Or rather, wouldn’t if not for your recent poor performance.”
“Poor performance?” Lucky shot from the chair. “What the hell are you talking about?”
O’Donoghue tapped the laptop some more. Do that again and he’d be missing a finger. “How you overlooked a major infraction at Chastain Pharmaceuticals. I’m afraid you’ve set a bad example for your protégés Loretta Johnson and William Schollenberger. You led them astray.” He tipped his head to the side. “It’s even been suggested that you might have deliberately turned a blind eye to certain… inadequacies.”
Who dared make such a suggestion? Lucky slammed his hand down on the desk. “Blind eye, my ass! We went over the place with a fine-toothed comb. We didn’t find anything worth more than a note in the margin.”
“Do you really believe DEA would revoke their registration if that were the case?” O’Donoghue took condescending to new heights. “They wouldn’t, believe me.”
