Transfer (The Retrieval Duet #2)

“You gonna back me up here?” I asked him.

He rested a hand on his hip and used his thumb to wipe the corner of his mouth. “It’s politics, Light. We can’t just—”

“You have got to be shitting me.” I swept a finger in Rorke’s direction. “Not even a month ago, someone in his department hung Atwood out to dry. He was days away from being inducted into Noir’s army, and within hours of his identity being released to the Atlanta Police Department, he was found with a bullet in the back of his brain. Politics have no place in this anymore.”

His gaze turned hard as he took an authoritative step toward me and lowered his voice. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you and that woman, but you are not thinking straight. Do not make more enemies for us. Jesus Christ, it’s gonna take me a fucking year to bury the surveillance footage of you storming Noir’s gate.”

I shrugged arrogantly. “Not my problem. I warned you to turn it off. Besides, I showed up there, witnessed that asshole putting his hands on her. If that’s not probable cause to enter his residence, I don’t know what is.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Don’t bullshit me. You should have waited for backup.”

I laughed humorlessly. “Wait? You wanted me to fucking standby while he killed the key witness in our investigation?” The woman who has worked her way so fucking deep under my skin that I can’t even remember what it felt like not to have her there anymore. I kept that to myself.

A symphony of questions fired from multiple directions, all of which were along the lines of, “She’s going to testify against him?”

I angled forward and arrogantly whispered, “She is now.”

Tomlinson’s eyes nearly bulged from his head, and his whole body stiffened.

I tilted my head toward Rorke in a silent demand.

His eyes stayed glued to mine as he announced, “Rorke, you and your men are officially released from this investigation. The DEA appreciates your support in the matter, but we will be handling the Noir case from here on out.”

“You cannot be serious,” Rorke groaned.

Tomlinson finished with, “Please turn over any and all case files by end of day tomorrow.”

“This is ludicrous. You don’t have the resources to handle this kind of operation without the aid of the APD,” Rorke continued to protest, but McIntyre began herding him and his men toward the elevator.

Once the doors had slid closed behind them, Tomlinson’s body sagged and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s right, I absolutely do not have the resources to handle this, Light. So I’m gonna need you to get in there and find out exactly what she’s got on Noir that I can use as leverage to get additional manpower and funding.”

“I can do that,” I replied. “But, first, I want your word that we’re taking her and the girl into protective custody. And, in doing that, you’re also going to assign me as her number one.”

He scoffed and shook his head. “No. No fucking way. After your bullshit today, it’s obvious you are way too attached to this one.”

If he thought scaling the fortress wall was bad, he didn’t even know the half of it. If he had any idea how I really felt about her, I’d be not only off the case, but also out of a job before I could even explain—assuming I could think of an explanation.

My only saving grace was that no one, not even Clare, knew how I felt about her. And it was one secret I’d take to my grave.

“Too involved?” I asked incredulously. “You sent me in to gain her trust and get her talking. I did both—and took it two steps further by bringing her in and convincing her to testify. You think a shattered woman like that is gonna be real keen to put her life on the line after you take away the only badge she’s ever trusted?” Not even to mention the hell I was going to cause if they tried to take her away from me.

“I’m sorry. I can’t approve it,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“I’m not thinking you have a choice.”

“Well, I’m thinking, if she wants protective custody for her and her daughter, she’s gonna find a way to get on without you.”

My blood began to boil at a nearly explosive temperature, but before I had the chance to utter a word, Roman joined the conversation.

“Come again?” he said, closing in on Tomlinson. “You’re going to deny her protection if she insists on staying with Heath?”

“I didn’t—” Tomlinson started.

Roman boomed, “That woman has been through hell without you manipulating her in exchange for her safety!”

“Stay out of this, Leblanc,” Tomlinson ordered. “You have no idea—”

“Fuck you. I know enough. You’re asking her to risk her life to make your case and you’re planning to use her life as leverage to convince her.” He paused and barked a loud humorless laugh. “You and the rest of the DEA can suck my cock. She’s coming home with me.”