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Daniel had everything spread out over the conference table. Things were starting to fall in place—but they still hadn't found what connections Kimball had implied Steve Wilson had. He was missing something. He was damned sure of it.
Someone knocked on the conference room door. Daniel looked up.
And almost snarled.
His father stood there, smirking at him. "This is grunt work. Aren't you riding the desk now? Or is your precious Major Crimes running on fumes now? How many people are out?"
Far too damned many.
"What do you want?" Daniel grabbed reports and notes and photos and stacked them hurriedly. The last thing he wanted was his father seeing what he was working on.
"You always did hide your homework from daddy, son." He lifted a photo—of Heather—and flicked it at Daniel dismissively. The move went right through Daniel. Just like it was intended to.
"You shouldn't be in here. What do you want?"
"I merely dropped Melvin off here. He had some questions for you. And Lieutenant Coleson, of course. Where is she?"
"Heather is now on medical leave. Where the hell do you think she is? Stillman isn't getting near her. Especially without a union rep." There was no way in hell he was letting either man get near her. Heather wasn’t going to be these assholes’ pawn for anything. Not if Daniel had anything to say about it."What does he want with her? Nothing to do with her will ever be his case. He's already been turned into the review board. He might just end up in front of the grand jury if I have my way. What he did was criminal, and we all know it. He isn’t to get within so many feet of Heather, or I’ll tack on obstruction and interfering with an investigation charges. Where is he?"
"Bullpen, I believe. I may just drive him over to her house. Just to be…neighborly. It's on my way. I pass it routinely. Hard to resist. Sometimes, I find myself just circling their block, waiting for one of those Colesons to come outside. There are some seriously beautiful young women living there, aren't there? Did you see those videos at Christmas? I about shit myself when I recognized her . And there are so many who look just like her. I have watched that video over and over. I can’t help myself."
Daniel bit back the snarl. He could just imagine his pervert of a father driving by the Colesons' house, looking for one of them to drool over. "You are sick and disgusting. Most of them are young enough to be your daughters."
"So? Age is just a number. Especially when they are young and wanting it. You a missionary or something? Or just not into women? I would like grandchildren someday. You aren't getting any younger."
His father had always enjoyed getting beneath Daniel's skin. Always. Like he got off on the control of it. "Out. Now."
His father stood. "See you around, son. See you around. Don't let this place consume you so much. It's not worth it. And once I keel over, you'll be a very wealthy man. Won't have to work this place ever again. What is it with my old pals working their asses off to get themselves out of the gutter, just to have you boys all act like the gutter of the TSP is just where you want to be?"
Then his father was gone, leaving Daniel trying to figure out what he meant.
Or why what his father said mattered at all anyway.
Nothing good had ever come from Daniel McKellen the first. Nothing.
But his words stuck with Daniel. A few hours later and he still hadn't figured it out. His father had many so-called friends—allies who patted each other’s backs. But how many of them had sons working with the TSP?
Daniel found himself driving. Right to Hughes Heights. He was going to check on Heather himself. Just to see.
But it wasn't to Jude Way he found himself driving. Somehow, he found himself at the park. Next to the Barratts' place.
He was still sitting in the parking lot of the park, just thinking, lost in memories, when he saw Powell and Gunnar pull into the drive and go inside.
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