Page 20 of Sam to the Rescue
“Just a second, I’m almost in.” A few more keystrokes and she thrusts her fists in the air while doing a little victory dance in her swivel chair.,
“Score.” Deft fingers fly over her keyboard as she opens window after window.
“I don’t get it. If David Kessler was brainwashed by some cult, I’d see some sign of it in his emails. There’s absolutely nothing.” While she exhales and frowns, our phones ping simultaneously.
When I glance down at mine, the image of Detective Colin O’Brien opens in my doorbell application.
“I got it.” Closer than her, I jump up and press the buzzer on the wall.
“Who’s with him?” As two sets of shoes clomp up the stairs behind the living room wall, she joins me in the waiting area.
“Dunno, but for sure she’s a Fed.”
“How can you tell.” My wife’s long lashes lift and catch me in a smirk.
“Simple, sugar. They have a certain look.”
“Not me. Nuh-uh. I did not.” Blond brows raise, daring me to argue.
It’s a look I cannot resist. Laughing, I lean over and whisper in her ear, “Did too, but I fucked it out of you.”
With her face still bright red, I open the door. Colin holds his hand raised, ready to knock and when he steps inside, he’s followed by a grim-faced woman in a blue suit and flat pumps.
His unsmiling face tells me I won’t like what I’m about to hear. “Mr. and Mrs. Sutcliff? This is Special Agent Doyle. Congresswoman Desmond insisted you two meet.”
“Y’all want to step inside?” Something smells fishy and it’s not yesterday’s dinner.
They follow us to the conference room table and as we sit, my wife doesn’t offer them a beverage. Either she senses my unease, or she feels it too. Either way, I got a real bad feeling about this visit.
The dark-haired woman lowers her voice. “We analyzed the sample your wife left with the JTTF. It’s ammonium nitrate.”
“Shit.” I whistle through my teeth. In the wrong hands, three barrelsful could blow up a city block.
“We need your help to find it.” Colin stares straight at me. His wife created the world’s greatest artificial intelligence.What the fuck can I do that he can’t?
“What about Jason?”
“I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated.” The detective’s blue eyes blaze as he glances between me and Sam.
“Howmuchmore?” My arms fold across my chest and my chin juts out. I don’t care for the way he’s pussyfooting around.
“Say what’s on your mind, Detective, and be done with it.” As a rule, I don’t have a whole lot of love for Federal Agents, especially when my inner spidey senses scream at full blast.
“The FBI wants you undercover.” His phrasing makes it clear this was not his idea. Now, don’t get me wrong, before I became a dad, I would’ve jumped at their offer but Sam and I agreed. We’ve sowed our last wild oat.
“Sorry. No can do. No dangerous missions. We got a kid.” To make my point, I swivel around to where my son bounces in his playpen,
“What about your work for Patten Securities?” Special Agent Doyle’s tone says she isn’t one to back down but hell, neither am I.
“That doesn’t count.”
“Will you at least think about it?”
“Yup. There. I did. Done. Buh-bye.” I don’t owe this woman any explanations. Hell, until I figure out why I’m seeing ghosts, I should reduce my assignments, not increase them.
“Y’all have a nice day and I tell you what, if me or my wife find out anything more, we will let you know.”
After they leave, Mikey fusses so Sam picks him up. Upstairs in the foyer, I phone the congresswoman and leave a message. “Excuse me ma’am, but we need to talk.”