George looked up, still rubbing his temples, and sighed. “Maybe I should have a revolving door put in.”
“Is this a bad time?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t take long,” Jason promised.
George shook his head in resignation, and pointed at one of the two chairs in front of his desk. “Let’s hear it.”
“I want to fly back to New York. If I fill out the travel request, could you sign it tonight?”
George cupped a hand to his right ear. “I think my hearing’s going. I thought you said you wanted to fly back to New York.”
“I do. Tomorrow morning, if I can’t get a flight tonight.”
“For the love of God, why?”
This was the tricky part. Jason did not want to lie to George, but no way in hell would telling the complete truth get him the permission he needed. “I discovered a short while ago that a witness crucial to my case is actually living in Watertown. He doesn’t have a landline, and if he’s got a cell phone number, I can’t locate it. He doesn’t seem to have an email address.”
“Jason, you can’t go flying back and forth across the country every time you want to interview someone. Send your questions to the New York office and let them handle the damned interview.”
Jason resorted to entreaty. “My case is falling apart, George. This witness is my last shot at saving it. I can’t trust this interview to anyone else.”
“For God’s sake, they’ve got two special agents on their ACT.”
“I’ve got to look this guy in the eyes. Besides, you know how it is. Sometimes you don’t even know what questions to ask until you’ve been talking to the witness for a while.”
George looked doubtful as he studied Jason’s face. He said in a fatherly tone, “Jason, you can’t take every case this much to heart. I know you put a lot into Fletcher-Durrand, but if we don’t get them this time around, we’ll get them the next.”
“One last shot,” Jason pressed. “If the interview doesn’t pan out, okay. But at least I know I gave it everything.”
George studied him. He studied the file on his desk. He studied the framed photos of his wife and kids. He studied Jason again—and groaned. “I know I’m going to regret this. I can feel it in my bones. Okay.”
Jason just managed not to fist pump. “Yes. Thank you, George.”
“But. This time you’re taking a partner.”
Jason’s relief changed to wariness. “What? A partner? Who?”
George smiled an evil smile. “J.J. Russell.”
“Russell?”
“Take it or leave it.”
“Yeah, but Russell?”
“If you’d had a partner the last time, none of what happened to you would have happened. Correct?”
There was no arguing with that, and though George was too kind to say it aloud, they both knew that had Jason had a partner with him on Camden Island, Chris Shipka might still be alive.
Jason subsided. “Okay, you’re right. But does it have to be Russell?”
“Yes, it has to be Russell. We’re understaffed and you’re both short a partner. Besides, I want him out of the office until he cools off.” George’s normally pleasant features were adamantine. “We’ll call it a trade-off.”
Jason grimaced. “If that’s what it takes. Will you break the news to Russell or do I?”
“As tempting as the thought is, I’ll tell him,” George said. “Get the travel request form on my desk before five. I’m leaving on time tonight.”