“Well then,” I said. “This looks like your best shot.”
Deborah still didn’t look convinced for some reason. “Captain Matthews won’t want to lose Doakes for this. We’d have to clear it with him.”
I pointed to where that very same captain was conferring with Doakes. “Behold,” I said.
Deborah chewed her lip for a moment before she finally said, “Shit. It might work.”
“I can’t think of anything else that might,” I said.
She took another breath, and then as if someone had clicked a switch, she stepped toward Matthews and Doakes with her jaw clenched. I trailed along behind, trying hard to blend in with the bare walls so Doakes wouldn’t pounce and rip out my heart.
“Captain,” Deborah said, “we need to get proactive with this.”
Even though “proactive” was one of his favorite words, Matthews stared at her like she was a cockroach in the salad.
“What we need,” he said, “is for these . . . people . . . in Washington to send somebody competent to clean up this situation.”
D E A R LY D E V O T E D D E X T E R
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Deborah pointed at Burdett. “They sent him,” she said.
Matthews glanced down at Burdett and pushed his lips out thoughtfully. “What do you suggest?”
“We have a couple of leads,” she said, nodding toward me.
I really wished she hadn’t, since Matthews swung his head in my direction and, much worse, so did Doakes. If his hungry-dog expression was any indication, he apparently hadn’t mellowed in his feelings toward me.
“What is your involvement with this?” Matthews asked me.
“He’s providing forensic assistance,” Deborah said, and I nodded modestly.
“Shit,” Doakes said.
“There’s a time factor here,” Deborah said. “We need to find this guy before he—before more of these turn up. We can’t keep a lid on it forever.”
“I think the term ‘media feeding frenzy’ might be appropriate,” I offered, always helpful. Matthews glared at me.
“I know the overall shape of what Kyle—of what Chutsky was trying to do,” Deborah went on. “But I can’t go on with it because I don’t know any background details.” She stuck her chin out in the direction of Doakes. “Sergeant Doakes does.”
Doakes looked surprised, which was obviously an expression he hadn’t practiced enough. But before he could speak Deborah plowed ahead. “I think the three of us together can catch this guy before another fed gets on the ground and catches up to what’s happened so far.”
“Shit,” Doakes said again. “You want me to work with him?” He didn’t need to point to let everyone know he meant me, but he did anyway, pushing a muscular, knobby index finger at my face.
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J E F F L I N D S A Y
“Yeah, I do,” Deborah said. Captain Matthews was chewing on his lip and looking undecided, and Doakes said,
“Shit,” again. I did hope that his conversational skills would improve if we were going to work together.
“You said you know something about this,” Matthews said to Doakes, and the sergeant reluctantly turned his glare away from me and onto the captain.
“Uh-huh,” said Doakes.
“From your, uh— From the army,” Matthews said. He didn’t seem terribly frightened by Doakes’s expression of petulant rage, but perhaps that was just the habit of command.