“Dustin!” David Caswell said. The pleasure of his greeting seemed sincere.
“Good to see you,” Dustin greeted David, shaking his hand. He glanced at the other two men and waited.
“I’d like you to meet Jackson Crow and Malachi Gordon,” David turned. “Jackson, Malachi, Special Agent Dustin Blake. When I first started with the police force in Savannah, Dustin and I were partners. He’s the best—and rare in his abilities.”
“Thank you for coming,” Jackson said.
The men took their seats again. They studied him, and he returned their stare.
So the dark-haired man was the famous—or infamous—Jackson Crow.
“How do you like being with the feds, Mr. Blake?” Crow asked him.
“How do I like it? Just fine,” Dustin said. And it was fine. He wasn’t sure what he felt about being there today, however. There’d been a time when he’d wanted nothing more than to be assigned to one of Crow’s “special” units. Now...he wasn’t so sure.
In all honesty—and he didn’t know if it was simply self-assurance or something less commendable—he’d expected to receive a good assignment when he’d graduated from the academy. Whatever that might be. And he’d gotten a good assignment. He worked with a group of four consultants sent on diverse cases when violent crime crossed state lines.
“You enjoy working with your team?” Crow asked. Was it just a polite question?
“Yeah, I do. My coworkers are good, savvy, personable and experienced. I work with one guy, Grant Shelby, who’s six foot seven, nearly three hundred pounds of lean, mean muscle, with almost computer-powered intelligence. He’s pretty good to have around in a hostile situation. And Cindy Greenstreet had the highest test scores in the past decade. I also work with Jerry Gunter—you might have heard the name. He used to be a mixed-martial-arts champ before entering the academy. He’s pretty good to have around in a pinch, as well. If you’ve called me here, I’m sure you’ve read up on me, so you know that when I joined the bureau, I didn’t start out as a kid but came in with a lot of experience, both in combat and law enforcement.”
Crow nodded and Dustin realized that he’d known all this. Dustin’s FBI unit was smart and tough—they’d been put together to get in and get the job done.
“Good assignment,” Crow said with a nod.
“Yeah.” As he’d told them, Dustin hadn’t come into the academy as a fresh-faced twenty-something grad. Before he’d gone to college, he’d participated as a witness in a case involving a duo of oddly matched serial killers. From there, he’d gone into the military, and after the marines he’d gone into police work. He hadn’t exactly entered the department immediately; there’d been a year when he’d been in total denial about himself and his “unusual” abilities—and about the heinous things men seemed willing to do to their fellows. He’d more or less walked into the wilderness. Actually, it hadn’t been that dramatic. He’d taken a job as a forest ranger in the Everglades—except that he’d been led to bodies in giant oilcans and he’d realized it was time to move his efforts in the best possible direction. There were certain things a man couldn’t escape—and his own nature was one of them.
So he’d decided to apply to the academy.
“You know all about me,” Dustin said. “Why are we meeting?”
David looked at Jackson Crow and shrugged.
“What do you know about the Krewes?” This time, it was Malachi Gordon who spoke. Dustin knew his name; he was a recent graduate of the academy. He’d come into the bureau after working a case in Savannah.
Dustin leaned back. “I’ve read about what happened in Savannah,” he told Malachi. “You know I worked with David so, of course, the beautiful city of Savannah is near and dear to my heart. In fact, I was somewhat surprised that my unit wasn’t assigned to that case, but apparently, things were already being taken care of. And, to the best of my knowledge, that case has been cleared, the paperwork wrapped up and the feds are long gone from Savannah. Having worked there, I thought I might be of some help, but...”
He paused and grinned sheepishly at David. “It seems like you all did just fine without me.”
“I’m sure you would’ve been an asset,” Malachi murmured.
Dustin looked curiously at the other man. “Thanks, but as I said—seems like you had it covered.”
“That was then—and we did have it covered. However, although the Krewes are growing, there are never enough of us, and we’re always looking for the right people,” Crow told him. “Would you be interested in seeing how you work out with one of our units?”