weekend.
“Well, they’re always welcome. We have a swimming pool and Sean has a game room. He’s a big kid himself, at least when it comes to his toys.”
They chatted as they worked. Some reports had to be handwritten, most input in the computer. Donnelly walked in just after five. “Almost done?”
“Getting there,” Ryan mumbled. “Maybe thirty more minutes. Hour, tops.”
“Can I borrow Kincaid for a minute?”
Ryan grew suspicious. Even though Lucy had explained to Ryan about Donnelly’s strategy at the Sanchez house, Ryan thought it had gone too far and accused Donnelly—at least to Lucy—of being a hot dog who took unnecessary risks.
But he shrugged. “Up to her.”
“You both did great work,” Donnelly said. “I’m putting it in my report to your SSA.”
“Thank you,” Lucy said when Ryan didn’t answer. She followed Donnelly from the room, giving Ryan a look. He simply shook his head and waved her off.
“What’s his beef?” Donnelly asked.
“It’s nothing.”
Donnelly assessed her. “It was about this morning. At the house.”
“It’s fine. I should have briefed him better.”
“I’ve worked with Ryan in the past, and he’s a good cop, but he’s a straight arrow. Doesn’t like games.”
“It wasn’t a game,” she said.
“And that’s why we work well together. You get it.”
She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant.
“I need you to talk to a guy from CPS. He came around about the kid, Michael—he thinks he knows who this Michael is. I don’t have time to deal with it, and your boss already said the FBI is lead on the missing kid.”
That was news to Lucy, but she and Ryan had been processing paperwork for so long she hadn’t even thought to call in or check her email.
Donnelly walked her down a long row of interview rooms. He opened one and said, “Hey, Charlie, good to see you again.” He extended his hand. “Charlie DeSantos, this is FBI Special Agent Lucy Kincaid. She’s been working with me on the Sanchez case, and is point on the missing boy.”
Charlie extended his hand to Lucy. He was tall and lean with permanent scaring from long-ago acne, but a warm and friendly smile. “Agent Kincaid.” He glanced from her to Brad. “I didn’t realize the FBI had already been called in.”
“Kincaid’s part of Operation Heatwave.”
“I heard about that.”
“Kincaid and her partner are staying on for a few more days, until we figure out what exactly is going on with the kid. I’d sit in on the meeting, but I need to debrief my boss. If you and Lucy can figure out if our cases intersect, that would help me.”
“Of course,” Charlie said. “Good to see you again, Brad.”
“Call if you need anything.” Then Brad was gone, leaving Lucy alone with Charlie DeSantos.
Lucy motioned for him to sit and took out a small notepad.
“Are you new?” he asked her. “I’ve worked with several agents in the FBI, but don’t remember meeting you.”
“Yes, I graduated from the academy in December. Been here for nearly three months now.”
“And already on a major task force.”
“Trial by fire,” she said with a half smile. “Brad said you might know who Michael is?”
“I’m afraid I might,” he said. He sighed and rubbed his face, looking both angry and defeated. “I got a call this morning from one of my foster families. The woman thought she’d seen a boy who’d run away from their home last year. At first I thought it was wishful thinking on her part—she and her husband wanted to adopt this boy. His name is Michael Rodriguez. CPS was alerted about the DEA sweep—often, as you know, children get swept up, too, and need a temporary bed, so we work behind the scenes to make sure there are enough places to take them. When I heard that the DEA was looking for a boy named Michael who may have been held captive by a drug dealer, I wondered if it was more than a coincidence that Mrs. Pope thought she saw him. It took me some time to
“Well, they’re always welcome. We have a swimming pool and Sean has a game room. He’s a big kid himself, at least when it comes to his toys.”
They chatted as they worked. Some reports had to be handwritten, most input in the computer. Donnelly walked in just after five. “Almost done?”
“Getting there,” Ryan mumbled. “Maybe thirty more minutes. Hour, tops.”
“Can I borrow Kincaid for a minute?”
Ryan grew suspicious. Even though Lucy had explained to Ryan about Donnelly’s strategy at the Sanchez house, Ryan thought it had gone too far and accused Donnelly—at least to Lucy—of being a hot dog who took unnecessary risks.
But he shrugged. “Up to her.”
“You both did great work,” Donnelly said. “I’m putting it in my report to your SSA.”
“Thank you,” Lucy said when Ryan didn’t answer. She followed Donnelly from the room, giving Ryan a look. He simply shook his head and waved her off.
“What’s his beef?” Donnelly asked.
“It’s nothing.”
Donnelly assessed her. “It was about this morning. At the house.”
“It’s fine. I should have briefed him better.”
“I’ve worked with Ryan in the past, and he’s a good cop, but he’s a straight arrow. Doesn’t like games.”
“It wasn’t a game,” she said.
“And that’s why we work well together. You get it.”
She wasn’t exactly sure what he meant.
“I need you to talk to a guy from CPS. He came around about the kid, Michael—he thinks he knows who this Michael is. I don’t have time to deal with it, and your boss already said the FBI is lead on the missing kid.”
That was news to Lucy, but she and Ryan had been processing paperwork for so long she hadn’t even thought to call in or check her email.
Donnelly walked her down a long row of interview rooms. He opened one and said, “Hey, Charlie, good to see you again.” He extended his hand. “Charlie DeSantos, this is FBI Special Agent Lucy Kincaid. She’s been working with me on the Sanchez case, and is point on the missing boy.”
Charlie extended his hand to Lucy. He was tall and lean with permanent scaring from long-ago acne, but a warm and friendly smile. “Agent Kincaid.” He glanced from her to Brad. “I didn’t realize the FBI had already been called in.”
“Kincaid’s part of Operation Heatwave.”
“I heard about that.”
“Kincaid and her partner are staying on for a few more days, until we figure out what exactly is going on with the kid. I’d sit in on the meeting, but I need to debrief my boss. If you and Lucy can figure out if our cases intersect, that would help me.”
“Of course,” Charlie said. “Good to see you again, Brad.”
“Call if you need anything.” Then Brad was gone, leaving Lucy alone with Charlie DeSantos.
Lucy motioned for him to sit and took out a small notepad.
“Are you new?” he asked her. “I’ve worked with several agents in the FBI, but don’t remember meeting you.”
“Yes, I graduated from the academy in December. Been here for nearly three months now.”
“And already on a major task force.”
“Trial by fire,” she said with a half smile. “Brad said you might know who Michael is?”
“I’m afraid I might,” he said. He sighed and rubbed his face, looking both angry and defeated. “I got a call this morning from one of my foster families. The woman thought she’d seen a boy who’d run away from their home last year. At first I thought it was wishful thinking on her part—she and her husband wanted to adopt this boy. His name is Michael Rodriguez. CPS was alerted about the DEA sweep—often, as you know, children get swept up, too, and need a temporary bed, so we work behind the scenes to make sure there are enough places to take them. When I heard that the DEA was looking for a boy named Michael who may have been held captive by a drug dealer, I wondered if it was more than a coincidence that Mrs. Pope thought she saw him. It took me some time to
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