Midnight Special Coming on Strong - By Tawny Weber Page 0,6
rest of his family?”
“Well, I did walk Danita down the aisle when she married Gabriel. But I wasn’t best man at that one, even though Danita’s FBI, too. Maya married an FBI agent as well and I caught the bouquet at their wedding. Is that too cozy?” Hunter made a show of shaking his head in disgust. “Yeah, they’re all major criminal elements, all right. Good thing each is assigned their own personal law-enforcement babysitter.”
“You think it’s funny?”
Yeah, pretty much. Murray was one of those guys who operated in black-and-white. Us and them. Good and bad. Hunter saw life in shades of gray.
He didn’t say that, though. Instead, he pointed out, “You’re just pissed that you’d have arrested the wrong person.”
“I’d have arrested a criminal.”
“Tobias Black wasn’t behind the crimes in question. Arresting him would have been a grave miscarriage of justice. Just as it will be if you force Beverly Burns to testify against her husband, jettisoning the illusion that she died in that explosion. If Burns knows she’s alive, he’ll have her killed. He knows she’s alive and cooperating with the feds, he’ll have her killed faster. She won’t make it to the trial.”
“She’s under FBI protection. She’ll make it to testify.”
Hunter just stared. Unspoken, but clear, was the truth that if she testified against her husband, her life expectancy would thereafter be on par with that of a fruit fly.
“This is my case.” Ignoring the pained scream from his rib, Hunter got to his feet and gave Murray a look of cold determination. “I’ve already cleared the plan through all appropriate channels.”
“I spoke with the director myself. Unless you can show you’ve nailed Burns without his wife’s testimony, she’s taking the stand. You have a week into the trial. Good luck with that.” He waited a beat, then with a smile filled with malice, added, “Oh, by the way. How are you getting to California? Driving? You’re gonna have a great time building a case from behind the wheel.”
That Hunter’s car currently resembled tin foil went unspoken. Not because the deputy director was playing nice. But because the man knew the value of leaving the worst unsaid. It lingered there, floating above them like a vile stench.
Hunter debated his options.
“Fine, I’ll take a train.”
“Train?”
“Sure. There has to be a train going from New York to San Francisco.” Despite the fact that the room was spinning in three directions at once, Hunter shifted into intimidation mode, using his four-inch advantage to loom over his boss. “Bottom line, we’re not bringing Beverly Burns into this trial. I made a promise. She gave us ample information to indict Burns on twice as many charges as we already had. Enough to shut down his entire operation. In exchange, we not only tuck her away in the hidden depths of WitSec, but make sure everyone believes she died in that explosion.”
“The trial is in a week. And we’re still desperately sifting through all of that ample information. It’s not like the pieces we need are just sitting there waiting to be used to nail him to the wall.”
“I know the Burns operation inside out. I’ll find every single piece,” Hunter vowed.
“This case hinges on you, then, doesn’t it? Now there’s a damned good chance this guy will walk free because you couldn’t resist hotdogging it down the pier on the hood of your car.”
Hunter gritted his teeth. Asshole or not, Murray was right.
“I can work the case while I’m on the train just as well as I could here in my office. I’ll just take it with me.”
“Those files are classified.”
“I’ve got clearance. You need more, I’ll make a couple of phone calls and get it for you.”
Hunter didn’t pull the connection card out very often. He didn’t need to. His father’s legacy at the FBI was the stuff legends were made of. The bureau chief was Hunter’s godfather. And his own record wasn’t just shiny, it glittered. So while he never played the prima donna, it was pretty rare that he heard the word no.
And he wasn’t about to hear it now. Murray offered a sour smile. The man knew Hunter was going to vault right over his position on his climb up the ladder. He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.
The doctor stepped back into the room. Face blank now, Murray turned away to make a phone call.
“Here’s your prescription, filled. I wrote up a list of dos and don’ts for you