her to open up and let us in.”
“This is supposed to help me?”
Clint leaned back in his chair. “Sorry I just don’t get it, even after all these years. She’s missed so much of James’s life.”
“So have I.” Steven swiveled his chair to look him in the eyes. “But after I got the call that Ryan died and I had James to take care of without my dad and Sue to help, I realized my little man is too important to keep missing time.”
“It’s not like you’re an absent father, Steven.”
“You know as well as I do that I haven’t given him everything I can.” He straightened his Looney Tunes tie.
Some quirks you never lost. Clint wished Steven played poker because his tie adjusting would be the perfect tell to wipe him clean.
“Don’t get stuck here again, Kessler. Think about graduation. How you led our group in prayers. How those young agents looked up to you then.” He nodded toward Michael Parker’s cubicle. “They still do now.”
“I’m pulling seniority. Agent Rollins. I think we need to get back to work.”
He pushed his chair back to his desk. “If I had my cowboy hat, I’d tip it to ya.”
“Save that for Sara. She’s the one who turns to mush when you’re in jeans and your Stetson.” Steven smirked and waved him on.
“Wonder what your sons teacher would do if she saw you in your workout garb.”
“Not gonna know if we don’t get work done, will we?”
Clint would leave it there for now. But they’d return to this subject soon. Real soon.
Agent Maxwell’s bellow could be heard across the room.
A portent of great things to come. Steven hit the save icon and waited.
“Kessler!” The unit chief stalked toward his desk. “I want you, as the top Crimes Against Children coordinator, heading this investigation and doing lead interviews.” Maxwell slapped a file down on his desk and rattled off the highlights. The senior agent reeked of cigar smoke, which only added to Steven’s increasing distaste for the assignment.
“This one is a high diplomatic priority Ambassador’s daughter abducted early this morning. Choose your team carefully, Kessler. If all goes well, this will be another one for the books.” With a slap on the back. Maxwell disappeared around the corner.
Steven scanned the documents in front of him. So much for an easy Saturday morning at work.
“What’d I tell you? You’re a legend in your own time.” Clint stood at his side.
Michael Parker joined them. “Who’s the vic?”
“Olivia Kensington, seventeen-year-old daughter of the British ambassador to the United States. Kidnapped from adance club shortly after midnight. The Evidence Response Team has already been dispatched.” Steven reached for the phone. “I’m going to set up an organizational meeting with Assistant US Attorney Kenneth Marks, and Special Agent David Adams. He’s over the Kensingtons’ security details. After that, we’ll do a short intro for our team, then head to the embassy.” He handed the case folder to Clint. “Ask Jan if she’ll prep this for briefing. Then you can push for the ERT’s report and round ’em up.”
“And head ’em out,” Clint said.
Thirty minutes later, Steven drove east across the steel blue Potomac to Massachusetts Avenue. Michael and Clint clicked keyboards, shuffled papers, and talked on cell phones the entire drive. Made of red brick and stone. Sir Walter Kensington’s home away from his London home looked like a sprawling English country house.
The place was still crawling with local police and ERT agents. A steaming British ambassador stood right in the center of everything. Clint and Michael jumped out of the car and into the thick of it to organize the scene and take charge of the investigation.
Steven invented a quick parking space amid all the police cars and then rushed up the cobbled sidewalk. Sir Walter made a beeline for him, eyes blazing. The diplomat’s slight rugby build and graying hair didn’t soften the rage
“This is supposed to help me?”
Clint leaned back in his chair. “Sorry I just don’t get it, even after all these years. She’s missed so much of James’s life.”
“So have I.” Steven swiveled his chair to look him in the eyes. “But after I got the call that Ryan died and I had James to take care of without my dad and Sue to help, I realized my little man is too important to keep missing time.”
“It’s not like you’re an absent father, Steven.”
“You know as well as I do that I haven’t given him everything I can.” He straightened his Looney Tunes tie.
Some quirks you never lost. Clint wished Steven played poker because his tie adjusting would be the perfect tell to wipe him clean.
“Don’t get stuck here again, Kessler. Think about graduation. How you led our group in prayers. How those young agents looked up to you then.” He nodded toward Michael Parker’s cubicle. “They still do now.”
“I’m pulling seniority. Agent Rollins. I think we need to get back to work.”
He pushed his chair back to his desk. “If I had my cowboy hat, I’d tip it to ya.”
“Save that for Sara. She’s the one who turns to mush when you’re in jeans and your Stetson.” Steven smirked and waved him on.
“Wonder what your sons teacher would do if she saw you in your workout garb.”
“Not gonna know if we don’t get work done, will we?”
Clint would leave it there for now. But they’d return to this subject soon. Real soon.
Agent Maxwell’s bellow could be heard across the room.
A portent of great things to come. Steven hit the save icon and waited.
“Kessler!” The unit chief stalked toward his desk. “I want you, as the top Crimes Against Children coordinator, heading this investigation and doing lead interviews.” Maxwell slapped a file down on his desk and rattled off the highlights. The senior agent reeked of cigar smoke, which only added to Steven’s increasing distaste for the assignment.
“This one is a high diplomatic priority Ambassador’s daughter abducted early this morning. Choose your team carefully, Kessler. If all goes well, this will be another one for the books.” With a slap on the back. Maxwell disappeared around the corner.
Steven scanned the documents in front of him. So much for an easy Saturday morning at work.
“What’d I tell you? You’re a legend in your own time.” Clint stood at his side.
Michael Parker joined them. “Who’s the vic?”
“Olivia Kensington, seventeen-year-old daughter of the British ambassador to the United States. Kidnapped from adance club shortly after midnight. The Evidence Response Team has already been dispatched.” Steven reached for the phone. “I’m going to set up an organizational meeting with Assistant US Attorney Kenneth Marks, and Special Agent David Adams. He’s over the Kensingtons’ security details. After that, we’ll do a short intro for our team, then head to the embassy.” He handed the case folder to Clint. “Ask Jan if she’ll prep this for briefing. Then you can push for the ERT’s report and round ’em up.”
“And head ’em out,” Clint said.
Thirty minutes later, Steven drove east across the steel blue Potomac to Massachusetts Avenue. Michael and Clint clicked keyboards, shuffled papers, and talked on cell phones the entire drive. Made of red brick and stone. Sir Walter Kensington’s home away from his London home looked like a sprawling English country house.
The place was still crawling with local police and ERT agents. A steaming British ambassador stood right in the center of everything. Clint and Michael jumped out of the car and into the thick of it to organize the scene and take charge of the investigation.
Steven invented a quick parking space amid all the police cars and then rushed up the cobbled sidewalk. Sir Walter made a beeline for him, eyes blazing. The diplomat’s slight rugby build and graying hair didn’t soften the rage
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