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His phone buzzed over the speakers, and he answered without checking the caller.
Max’s voice rang out. “Tapped into NYPD comms. She’s clear—just a witness.”
Ethan’s grip on the wheel tightened. “That’s what the detective said. Found a body.”
“More like body stew,” Max replied with a grim caution. “She’s gonna need therapy after this one, my friend.”
Ethan shook his head. “I swear, how does she manage this?”
“You sure you’re talking about the crime scene or the woman?”
Ethan’s mouth quirked in amusement. “Both.”
“I saw you pulled footage,” Max continued. “Don’t hand it over. Let the cops do their job. It'll raise more questions than answers.”
Ethan’s eyes flicked to the speaker, his voice dry. “You think I don’t know that? It’s a failsafe in case they decide she’s more than a witness. I thought you were supposed to be watching the grid, not me,” Ethan teased.
Max’s grin was audible. “Sue me, it’s a slow day. No Chinese hackers, no Russian skirmishes, and the Middle East is radio silent. Guardian’s running at ninety-five percent. I’m going to tell Jason to have a word with Con and Jewell about those new hires in Ops. They’re making my job too easy.”
“The majority of the teams are solid, but I’m concerned about Viper team,” Max continued, his voice sharp with authority. “Their operator is sluggish—both in response time and methodology. I’m recommending a transfer to domestic operations. There, his meticulous approach could be an asset rather than a liability. What we need are operators willing to bend the rules to get intel fast.”
Ethan nodded. “His handle is Kilroy. I noticed it last night. He acted like someone woke his ass up and he had a hangover.”
Max’s agreement was a low, disgruntled hum. “The teams deserve better.”
“Agreed,” Ethan said. “Check your inbox. I emailed you my assessment already.”
Max chuckled, his amusement tinged with authority. “Next time, don’t just email me. Take action, then tell me about it.”
Ethan nodded. “Noted.” The shift in authority felt significant—the leash loosening. It felt pretty damn good. Now, if only he could figure out how to handle Star and her gift for face-planting into chaos.
“You’ve got a traffic jam ahead,” Max interrupted. “Take your next right.”
Ethan obeyed without hesitation. Years of navigating New York traffic from behind his console had taught him to recognize exactly which system Max was using to direct him.
As he pulled up outside the precinct, he ended the call. “Thanks, Max.”
With the bag in hand and Thor at his side, Ethan dismounted from the Suburban and entered the precinct.
“Yo, man, no dogs allowed!” barked the desk officer.
Ethan replied calmly but firmly, “It’s a good thing he’s not a dog.” Thor, ever alert, stood by his side as Ethan placed the bag on the counter. The dog’s paws thumped against it, and his eyes locked on the officer.
The man’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t have wolves in the city. Animal control’s gonna haul him off.”
Ethan’s tone cooled a degree. “He’s my partner. Also, my support animal.” He produced Thor’s paperwork, kept in his wallet for moments like this.
The officer barely glanced at it before tossing it back. “What do you want?”
Ethan’s brow arched. Rude bastard. “Detective Bartholomew asked me to bring clothes for a witness.”
The man chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Oh, you mean the chick who puked on Samson’s shoes?”
Ethan’s eyes sharpened. “Can you take me to the detective?”
The officer leaned back, lazy as a cat in the sun. “I’ll call him. Keep that dog from biting anyone.”
Ethan’s lips twitched, but his voice remained measured. “Thor only bites on command.” The dog dropped from the counter, settling at Ethan’s heel, his gaze never leaving the officer.