Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Morning.” Kellan jerked his chin, looking about as tired as Alfie. The two bumped fists.
“Good morning, you two.” I smiled.
“How are you feeling today?” Shan wondered.
“Weirdly great,” Alfie replied. “I got a good night’s sleep, and my brain’s a happy place.”
I chuckled, agreeing. “I think two months of overanalyzing and preparing ourselves almost made yesterday a bit anticlimactic.”
Kellan snorted and turned to Shan. “Anticlimactic? He’s not as innocent as we thought.”
Shan smiled. “I don’t know. I had a feeling from the start he’d be the right amount of fucked in the head.”
I let out a laugh, and Alfie grinned slyly and grabbed my hand.
We walked into the elevator together, and Kellan pressed the button for the second floor.
“West, a heads-up,” Shan said. “You’re about to meet someone who was new around the time your father retired.”
What on earth? Retired from the FBI?
“As in…” I cocked a brow, not wanting to say too much until we were in a secure place.
He inclined his head. An agent, then.
“He’s with us,” Kellan finished.
“With or just like…you know, kinda?” Alfie pressed.
“With,” Shan confirmed.
In other words, this agent was an actual Son, not just an associate or affiliate.
I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised.
“You do have your fingers in many pies,” I noted.
Alfie groaned as the elevator doors opened. “Now I want pie. We’re hittin’ up Second Daughter after this.”
“Have I heard of this place?” Shan asked Kellan.
Kellan nodded. “They have the brownies you like.”
“Then we’ll go there too. I need something sweet today.” Shan took the lead down a corridor that looked nothing like the first floor. No fish-tank offices.
“And what am I?” Kellan frowned.
“I can’t dip you in my coffee, boy,” Shan drawled.
I smirked to myself.
At the end of the hall, Shan walked into a boardroom with no windows, just paneled walls and spotlights embedded in the ceiling. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess the room was all sorts of soundproof and isolated.
A large oval table took up most of the space, and two men were already seated. I hadn’t met them before.
“Detective Hanna, good to see you again.” Shan shook hands with the man in a well-worn leather jacket that had to be too cold in this weather.
So that was Reid Hanna, who’d helped us with the investigation.
“You too.” He was rugged-looking, a bit younger than me, and carried himself as if he’d been military before.
Shan handled introductions, and we shook hands with both Hanna and who turned out to be Agent Fitzpatrick with the FBI.
That was bizarre. Has this guy actually worked in the same office as my father?
The agent glanced at Shan. “This is Agent Scott’s son?”
“We’re nothing alike,” I stated. Partly because I remembered my dad’s nicknames from work.
Shan smirked. “Some apples fall far.”
Fitzpatrick chuckled. “Okay, good. Not that I didn’t learn a thing or two from Scott.”
“Like how to file a report?” I guessed.
It was his turn to smirk. “How to delegate and how to come off as someone who’d never do anything wrong.”
Well, then.
Finn and Eric soon showed up, and people started taking their seats. A much younger guy followed with a tray filled with coffee and pastries, and he left as quickly as he’d appeared.
“Morning.” Finn sat down at the head of the table with a cup of coffee and a handful of blue-colored folders. “Intros covered?”
“Yes. Go ahead.” Shan nodded.
I hung my coat over my chair and sat down between Alfie and the detective.
“All right, good.” Finn opened the top folder and eyed the first page. “Hanna and Fitz are here today to give us the latest rundown of cop affairs. We know Ford and I always have spotlights on us, and as of last month, the Feds are curious about Colm.” He lifted his gaze to us. “The important thing is, very little interest in O’Dwyer.”
Alfie straightened in his seat and frowned. “Why am I offended?”
“Because, to quote our daughter, you can be a ding-dong,” I replied.
That earned me some chuckles.
Finn shook his head in amusement and continued. “This is good. They obviously know who you are, but—” He waved a hand at Fitzpatrick. “I’ll let you cover this.”
The agent shifted in his seat. “The general consensus at the office is that you’re primarily part of the family,” he told Alfie. “The bureau doesn’t seem to believe you can get a seat at the inner-circle table as fast as you have, so there are very few agents pushing for an investigation, which we wouldn’t get approved at this point anyway.”
That was a relief.
Finn nodded for Hanna next.
“I have even less to say,” he answered with a shrug. “As far as I know, O’Dwyer is a name on a note stuck to Liam Murray’s dusty case file. We don’t put resources on any of this until there’s an unsolved case that the Feds bounce back to us.”