“I think I can do that.” Bo pulled Lucky down on the bed. “On second thought, I’m sure I can.”
Weight lifted. For once, Lucky didn’t care who might be in the house.
Chapter Seventeen
“What did you tell them at work?” Lucky asked between sips of coffee in the passenger seat of Bo’s Durango.
“You’re heading to Spokane to help your sister move.” From the driver’s seat, Bo swiveled his head toward Lucky. “I logged into your e-mail and requested two weeks of personal time.”
“Works for me.” Two weeks of not seeing O’Donoghue and his minions? Sure.
Bo returned his attention to the road. “They think I’m following up some leads on one of my cases, and for some reason, they don’t question what I do too much. Lisa’s going to log into my e-mail and send some timed reports throughout the day.”
Lucky considered Bo’s scheming. “You started kissing up to O’Donoghue, didn’t you?”
“You asked me to.” Bo batted his lashes. “I always do what you want me to, right?”
“If that’s what you’re going with.” Lucky tried for a long-suffering sigh. He’d rubbed off on the man a bit too much.
“Besides, people tend to believe what they want to, and he wants to believe I’m loyal to him, despite my connections with you and Walter. Chatting up Landry and Eustace doesn’t hurt either. O’Donoghue complimented me on my team behavior.” Bo rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, you they want to keep. Plus, you’ve got a squeaky-clean reputation and haven’t worked for Walter long enough to become overly connected to the old guard, in their minds. Same goes for Johnson.” Keith and Lucky? Their devotion to the old ways and unwillingness to change put their necks on the chopping block.
Lucky must’ve fallen pretty far to now have something in common with a waste of skin like Keith.
“If that was true, I wouldn’t be lying about my whereabouts and hauling ass to Alabama with the office black sheep.”
Lucky smiled. He really must be rubbing off on Bo. Actually, he’d love to rub off on Bo, but they didn’t have the time.
Maybe later. “What’s the plan?”
Bo gripped the steering wheel, checking over his shoulder and slamming the gas to merge onto the interstate. “I made a few calls, called in some favors, and we’re scheduled for a routine inspection as part of a vendor audit.”
Vendor audit. “You sneaky sumbitch, you.” Most impressive for a guy who normally kept to the book. “How’d you manage that?”
“Found a company with reason to like the SNB, since we saved their asses once, and reason to hate Forsyth, especially since they keep jacking up their prices.” Bo squeezed the SUV in between two eighteen wheelers and out the other side into the center lane before Lucky had time to grab the “oh, shit!” handle.
His heart still slammed his ribs.
He slid a sidelong glance Bo’s way and urged his pounding heart to slow. Normally Lucky drove on the interstate. Since when did Mr. Respects-speed-limits drive like a demon?
“If they get their hands on Chastain’s new diabetes drug, they’ll do more than drive up prices, they’ll own the market.” Bo continued, “If FDA doesn’t find out first.”
“And they will find out first, right?” If not already in motion, Lucky’d make a few calls.
“Chastain passed stage one trials. The FDA will damn sure notice a different entity launching stage two.”
Dang! Now why had Lucky not included Bo in his plans from the get-go? He’d gotten pretty shrewd since coming to work for the SNB. Plus, he’d been through Hell and had come out the other side.
Maybe Lucky needed to rethink his whole “Bo needs protecting” thing.
The drive to Nowhere, Alabama didn’t take as long as Lucky feared. Along with his newfound disregard for rules, Bo seemed to have lost his feather foot. Once or twice on the ride down Lucky had craned his neck to check the speedometer.
“Problem?” Bo asked, checking his GPS app for trouble ahead.
“Nope, none at all.” Bo became more like Lucky every day. Or Lucky more resembled Bo. “What about the boys this evening? I doubt we’ll make it back by supper time.”
“I left a lasagna in the fridge and cooking instructions. They’ll be fine.”
