“What?” Mitch asked, dropping all his goodies on the table. “I didn’t know you guys would be here. We can share these,” Mitch said, looking up.
“What?” he probed again when no one spoke.
“I think he got laid last night.” Mitch turned at the sound of Aaron Stuart’s voice. “For the record, I already guessed that when you were late.” Aaron beamed at him from the monitor as if he’d won a huge prize.
“You have insider information,” Mitch said and took a seat, grabbing for the first bag of donuts he could put his hands on. He wasn’t sure what happened to have this group here or how Connors magically accepted Aaron’s involvement with the case enough to allow him into the meeting without Mitch forcing the issue, but he didn’t question them. He didn’t want to do anything to slow their progress.
“You’re really a very handsome man,” Anne said, reaching for the coffee. She didn’t waste any time topping off her cup.
“It’s the food.” Mitch nudged the bag he opened toward her. He’d gotten a little bit of everything, but he was certain they had given him some sort of blueberry cake donut, and he wanted that thing bad.
“Nah, it’s those dimples. Who would have known how effective they could be?” Anne said and dug through the bag before pushing that one toward Brown.
“For me, I wouldn’t have ever guessed your face would smooth out. I thought the scowl was permanent,” Brown tossed out as he reached over and grabbed a bag, inspecting the contents before taking out a pastry.
“The blueberry donut’s mine.” Mitch just thought he’d throw that out there if anyone found the thing before him. Giving in to his curiosity, he finally looked at the screen and asked, “Why’s Aaron involved? I thought he gave Connors the heebie-jeebies.”
“I asked for the report he sent you earlier this week about the Secret Service members,” Connors said, ignoring the whole previous conversation with his head still stuck in the report.
“How did you know about that?” Mitch asked, looking at Aaron for the answer.
“I’m your partner, Knox. You need to run things past me; I run them past you. When you’re gathering this kind of information, I need to know.”
“Sorry, dude.” Stuart looked directly at Mitch, sporting an extreme case of bedhead. “He messaged me and asked for the same report. I got the wires crossed.”
“By the way, thank you for the gift. My son’s a huge Captain America fan,” Connors said, glancing up for the first time, looking genuinely thankful. The problem was that Mitch had no idea what the guy was talking about. Mitch slowly lost the smile as Brown began to laugh. That was when he clued in—Anne must have had his back and sent something to the boy.
“You don’t read your text messages, do you?” she asked. Mitch looked over at her. Even though it was late, he quickly turned back to Connors.
“You’re more than welcome. I was glad to do it,” Mitch said, finally taking credit for the gift he hadn’t sent.
“Oh fuck you,” Connors mumbled, burying his head back in the report.
“Did he just say a cuss word? Did the proper Agent Tyler Connors tell me to, let’s see, fuck off?”
Brown laughed, but Connors pushed away from the table and the donuts and started pacing the small room. Brown used the opportunity to grab the coffee cup left sitting between Mitch and Connors. He gave a salute as the agent sat back down.
“It’s too fucking clean! This whole fucking case is too clean. I’ve read every report you’ve done, Knox. I thought you had to be missing something. I reviewed all the investigators’ reports on each accident. I called the friends and family myself. It’s too clean. There are no mistakes. None! Now, I’ve reverted to calling in this guy,” Connors said, whipping his hand toward Aaron.
“No offense,” Mitch called toward the webcam.
“None taken,” Aaron called back. Connors never stopped his rant.
“I reviewed your files on the smaller, unknown homosexual hate crimes in the country over the last two years. I’m supposing that information came from Stuart too.” Mitch didn’t respond. “It would take years to investigate all those crimes and find the cases so clean that they fit these patterns.”
A duplicate of Mitch’s wall of pictures had also made its way to the wall of the conference room. Connors stood in front of them, staring. “Not one survivor knows anything about who attacked them, including the Greyson kid.”
“What? He’s awake?” Mitch asked.
“You seriously don’t look at your messages. I went over there last night when I couldn’t get you. He’s blacked out on everything,” Connors explained.
“Shit. I honestly didn’t expect anything different.” Mitch leaned back in his chair, staring at Connors. He ignored the phone reference. He hadn’t even heard his phone going off last night, and he certainly hadn’t checked the thing this morning.
“I’d say we need to expand our tactical team. We’re missing something,” Connors said, still staring at the pictures as though the answers were hidden within them. He stood, coming to stand beside Connors, looking over the photos.
“Do you know how many millions of case files in the FBI are worked and never solved?” Connors asked now in a much lower voice. It was a voice of defeat. Mitch knew it well. He’d had his moment last night with Cody. Mitch did the calm-down-man pat on Connors, then gripped his shoulder in a gesture of understanding.
“I get it. I swear I do, but you’re the best we’ve got. No one’s better than you. I hear that shit all the time,” Mitch said quietly, trying to add compassion to his tone. “Now come back to the table and let’s start this over.”
“I’ve got nothing,” Connors shook his head, looking straight at Mitch. “Not one single lead after a solid week’s worth of work.”
“Imagine then how I feel about working this case for the last eight months? Come on. Are you guys here for the day?” Mitch asked Brown and Anne.
“Yes,” Anne responded with a firm nod.