Dream Chaser (Dream Team #2) - Kristen Ashley Page 0,132

of the effort he intended to expend.

After that, he made her do all the work.

* * *

It was two days later, when Boone was returning to the offices with Mag after they’d been out to meet with an asset on another job, that Hawk came right out of his space at the top of the huge, auditorium-style room and called, “Men. Up here.”

Boone looked to Mag, Mag looked to Boone, and then they walked up to Hawk’s office.

He wasn’t seated behind his desk, but Hawk was not the kind of man who often sat.

He was leaned against the side, arms crossed on his chest.

Mag, the last one in, closed the door.

When he had both his men’s eyes, Hawk gave it to them.

“Got a call from Eddie. As you know, that shit with Mueller and Bogart happened in Englewood, jurisdiction of their PD, so Eddie and Hank were out. Still, Eddie knows the ME over there and gave him a call. ME told him straight up he was billing it a double homicide, considering Mueller’s tox screen showed such high levels of Rohypnol, not only would he be unable to deliver that kill shot straight to the heart of Bogart, he’d have trouble aiming at his own head.”

Boone felt relief at this colossal fuckup.

“So, we got ’em,” he noted. “Or at least we got something and it’s something the cops can’t ignore.”

Hawk shook his head.

Then he shared, “Report just filed. Ruled a murder suicide. And no mention of the Rohypnol.”

“What the fuck?” Mag asked.

“That was Eddie’s question. So he called the ME. Five times. When the man finally answered, he denied ever telling Eddie about those results and was adamant there was no Rohypnol found in either man’s screen.”

Shit, fuck.

“They got to him,” Boone said.

Hawk nodded once. “They got to him.”

“Shit,” Boone muttered.

“And we’re right, this is big,” Mag stated.

Hawk nodded once again. “We’re right. This is big. Because that wasn’t it. Eddie got that news, he went to the investigating officers and asked if they were ordering an assessment on the suicide note and if they printed the backdoor light. The detective who caught the case stated there was no reason to do an assessment of the note due to the ME’s ruling, and no reason to print the light, since he supposedly followed Eddie’s lead on that and says it worked. DA is going to close it as is. The nail in that coffin is going to hit the evening news.”

“But now, Eddie’s out there,” Boone said ominously.

“Now, Eddie’s out there,” Hawk agreed. “And that’s why they put him and Hank in front of this. Not to mention, noted Slim and Mitch and me in their texts. They got the power. They’re willing to go the extra mile. But they can be reasonable, they gave us what we wanted. Time for all of us to step back and shut down.”

No one said anything.

Hawk broke the silence.

“Lee’s better at this shit, so his boys are all over that ME to find out if they paid him, or if they’re holding something over him. Eddie’s out. He’s too visible right now. Hank, Slim and Mitch too. Malik is gonna see if he can get a copy of that note. Once we get all that, we’ll proceed from there.”

This time, Boone and Mag nodded.

“All right, men, the plot thickens,” Hawk said in preparation for dismissing them. “Boone, you get on telling Cisco. I’ll tell Mamá. And when I have your next orders, you’ll know.”

Both men did chin lifts and walked out the door.

“Christ. Roofied. Probably aware enough to know in some part of his head what was going on, totally incapable of doing anything about it. Is it semi-fucked I feel bad that Mueller was done like that?” Mag asked on their way to their workstations.

“Nope. Don’t got a lotta love for the man, and you can read from that, not any, but that’s harsh. Justice should be fair. It should be known what he did and the man he was, and he should pay for that. But his family thinking he’s steppin’ out on his wife to fuck prostitutes and not even pay them before he kills his partner and guarantees a closed casket? And he’s doped up and not even given a fighting chance before they lay him out?” Boone shook his head.

“Sinister shit,” Mag muttered.

“We’ve seen worse,” Boone pointed out.

“Yeah,” Mag sighed.

They hit their workstations, which were next to each other, and Boone spied Mag’s nameplate that said #1