Thicker than Blood - Mike Omer Page 0,31

Neanderthal? Now that he looked at it, he realized half of what his source had said was badly phrased drivel.

The real story was the Lamb case. Deep in his heart, he’d known it even before this phone call. And now he needed it. But if he just offered to trade stories, Nick would sniff Harry’s desperation.

Instead, he strode into their editor’s office, closing the door behind him.

Daniel McGrath sat behind his desk, frowning at his monitor. He glanced at Harry briefly, then turned back to whatever he was reading. “What, Harry? I’m busy.”

“I figured the cocaine bust could use a journalist with a bit more experience in the drug cartels.”

Daniel blinked in surprise, turning his full attention to Harry. “What are you talking about? You were positively thrilled to write about it just an hour ago.”

“I was willing to do it, sure. But—”

“You stood here and repeatedly said, ‘Who da man.’”

“No I didn’t.”

“You said it four times. I counted.”

“I think Nick should do it.”

“Just last week you told me Nick’s style was . . . let me see if I can quote you accurately: ‘The boring drone of a fourth-grade history teacher.’”

“I may have been a bit harsh. Nick’s great. He should definitely get this important story.”

“What’s your angle, Harry?”

“No angle.”

“Nick is working on the Lamb story. Do you want the Lamb story?”

“The Lamb story is old news. This is the big item of tomorrow.”

Daniel leaned back in his chair. “So you want the Lamb story.”

“I want what’s best for the team. Remember the email from our wise and generous boss, about teamwork?”

“Vaguely. Is it the one where he said we won’t be getting raises this year?”

“I care about teamwork. I scrub your back, you scrub mine.”

“That phrase isn’t about teamwork. It’s about exchanging favors. Not the same thing.”

“Fine! Sometimes I scrub both our backs. It’s a team—why not all of us scrub each other’s backs? Me, you, Nick. Get some lather on our hands, scrub each other real hard.”

“I’m getting uncomfortable with this metaphor.”

“Teamwork! It includes everyone. We can invite Albert, from accounting, scrub his back too.”

“Oh god.”

“Not just the backs. There are other parts it’s hard to reach in the shower. We can scrub each other’s—”

“Fine! If Nick wants to exchange stories, I don’t have a problem with it, okay? Just shut up about this communal shower we’re all having. I have a very graphic imagination. I feel like I need to bleach my brain.”

Harry grinned at him. “Thanks, Daniel, you’re the best.”

“You’ve ruined showers forever. Get out of my office.”

Harry left Daniel’s office, took a long breath, and wiped the smile from his face. Then he walked over to Nick Johnson’s desk, muttering curses to himself, loud enough that anyone could hear.

“Something wrong, Harry-Barry-Garry?” Nick asked. This was the man’s notion of wit. Adding additional rhymes to Harry’s name. Rhymes that literally made no sense. Kids at Harry’s kindergarten had come up with better taunts.

“I just had a talk with Daniel,” Harry spat. “He said I should give you the cocaine-bust story. I’m supposed to tie up the leftovers of the Lamb story.”

“Really?” Nick swiveled his chair, grinning. “Did he say why?”

“He thinks you have more experience.” Harry made a double quotes gesture with his fingers. “We’ll see what he thinks tomorrow when you make a mess of it.”

Nick snorted. “Whatever. Forward what you have so far. Maybe some of it is barely usable.”

“Yeah, yeah. And where are we at with the Lamb story?”

“I have the interview with the father, but it’s done. I already gave it to Daniel. And the detective in charge just sent me a picture of someone they’re looking for. You know the drill: the police are looking for this man, if anyone has information about him, yada yada yada. I’ll forward you the details. There’s a template somewhere. Even you can’t mess this up, Harry-Barry-Larry.”

“Send me the detective’s contact number too. I might have some follow-up questions.”

Nick had already turned his back, ignoring him. Harry returned to his seat, his earlier gloating mood replaced with something much better.

Excitement and anticipation.

CHAPTER 14

Tatum sat by the desk at the FBI field office, logged into ViCAP from his laptop, and began reviewing cases that involved blood consumption or any unusual interaction with blood.

Violent cases with actual blood consumption were few and far between. Tatum first checked the closed cases, reviewing the perpetrators’ identities and the locations of the crimes. He followed up on any case that seemed to be even remotely connected, making calls to

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