Trouble (B-Squad 2.75)

"Here's the deal," he said, turning to face the agents, giving them the look he usually reserved for subordinates who were slow to understand the way things were going to work from now on. “We—really, she—found out more in twenty-four hours than the however long it's been that you've been working this case. We're doing this. You're either coming along for the ride and the collar or you're sitting on the sidelines when I bring Law tied up with a bow to your boss."

It wasn't just the career boosting that came along with credit for a collar that cops—no matter their affiliation—wanted to take the bad guys off the street. It was in their cop DNA. That didn't make letting someone else take the credit any easier because egos were alive and well in anyone who had the power to throw someone in jail, but unless he'd pegged the agents wrong, they'd take the deal.

"Fine," Ritter said, his tone gruff. "We go with your plan but if the whole thing blows up in your face we won't be held responsible."

Drew managed to keep his self-satisfied smile under wraps. "Understood."

Two hours and one massive mission-planning session later and Drew and Leah walked into The Grange, the most likely spot to find Wynn and Miller, according to Lexie's briefing report that detailed the men's habits. Really, the woman was something else, weird cat obsession aside, because there were Wynn and Miller, sitting at a table in the back. Judging by the harried, I'm-about-to-stick-a-knife-through-your-eye look on the waitress's face, they'd been there for some time and had not been the most pleasant of customers.

Following the plan they'd come up with, he intertwined his fingers with Leah's and they walked together across the bar, past the dance floor, and to the men in their matching pale blue Western shirts with pearl buttons so new they still had the folding lines from the store.

Leah gave the duo a slow up and down before shaking her head. "Some people shouldn't be allowed to dress themselves."

"You don't have to fight it, darling, I know I look good," Wynn said, his bright red hair slicked back and held in place with a pound of hair gel.

Stepping in before Leah could tell Miller and Wynn what she really thought of their outfits, Drew cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention to him. "We want a meet with your boss."

Miller slunk back down in his seat, his gaze twitching left before jerking back to Drew.

"What boss?" he asked.

"The one who keeps you in tacky shirts and cheap belt buckles," Leah said.

"Girlie," Wynn sprung from his seat with more grace than a bulky guy his size usually had and loomed over Leah, "you need someone to teach you better manners."

Drew didn't think. He just reacted, grabbing the man by the shirt and shoving him back against the wall. Half a heartbeat later his forearm was pressed up against the guy's throat hard enough to make Wynn's eyes a little watery. Using his peripheral vision to keep watch on Miller, who was glued to his seat with his palms up in surrender, Drew leaned in and got right in Wynn's face.

"Let's not lose focus, asswipe, because you're too dumb to realize that that lady is the only person keeping your head attached to your neck. Your boss.

A meeting. Set it up. Now."

He tossed the sputtering Wynn back into his seat.

"Fine, dang, man," the redhead said as he took out his phone and started texting. "There's no need to go all Training Day on me."

He and Leah stood, hip to hip, while they all waited for a return text from Law. There was no way he was giving up the high ground advantage to these two dipshits. They might not have a record for violence and so far they didn't seem to have any skill that didn't involve grunting in the gym, but that didn't mean he was going to let down his guard. Not with Leah here. So the four of them just stayed there, giving each other stink eye, until Wynn's phone finally buzzed with a response.

Wynn picked it up and read the message with more speed than Drew would have given him credit for.

"He wants to know why," Wynn said.

"Tell Law that we'll only hand over the diamond to him," Drew said, sticking to the plan and playing the heavy. "We don't trust you two to carry out your end of things."

Miller made a soft squeak of protest. "That's just shitty."

"Tell him," Leah said as she jabbed a finger into the back of Wynn's shoulder blade.

The redhead shot Leah a dirty look but put his oversized thumbs to work. Again, they waited. This time the answer came back almost immediately.

"Noon tomorrow," Wynn said. "The closed up gas station at the corner of First and McMurray. Just you two."

"Great," Drew said, taking a step back from the table, making sure Leah did the same. He didn't want her within arm's reach of these two if they decided to change their M.O.s. "You can go."

"We were sitting here having a beer," Miller muttered.

"You were annoying your waitress," Drew said, jerking his chin toward the waitress who was watching the goings on from the safety of the bar. "Get moving before I find an excuse to knock your heads together."

Wynn and Miller grumbled like old men kicked out of the Bingo parlor for spitting tobacco on the floor. Drew didn't relax until they cleared the door. Curtis and Ritter would take over surveillance of Law's muscle after that, in hopes they went straight to him. If it worked out that way, great. If it didn't, they were ready for what came next. Now there was nothing to do but wait. And stare at Leah. And think all sorts of porn-worthy ideas for them to bide the time until the meet.