Chapter Thirty-Seven

"This is Olivia Gladstone." Nutsbe introduced her to his counterpart Deep from Strike Force over the video feed on a big screen in the Panther Force War Room.

Olivia sat next to Nutsbe, her hand gripping his thigh.

"Deep, Strike Force TOC. Glad to meet you, ma'am. Sorry for your troubles."

"Thank you," she murmured.

"What have you got, Deep?" Nutsbe asked.

"Information from last night, when Gator was backing you up."

"Much appreciated," Nutsbe said.

"Glad to be there," Deep looked down as he shifted papers. "So here's what I have for you from our end."

Nutsbe looked over at Olivia. She was stoic.

Titus glanced at his phone. "Finley, FBI, is on his way up. Go on, Deep."

"About the home invasion. Whiskey and Chaser—"

Nutsbe turned to explain, "Those are the names of Iniquus bloodhounds who were tracking from your house last night."

She nodded. Her grip tightened.

"Whiskey and Chaser followed the scent from Olivia's house to the strip mall outside of your neighborhood. Cameras from the sandwich shop showed two bikes arriving together last night at twenty-three twenty hours. One bike was still in the parking lot when we got there. I had a look at the surveillance tapes. In the right time frame, a man ran into the parking lot, jumped on his motorcycle, and took off, leaving the second bike in place. That bike has fingerprints that our team picked up and put through our computer system without getting a name. More interestingly, the bike had a Canadian plate. The Canadian government is cooperating with the FBI on the case. We don't have any information from them. But the symbols on the motorcycle are affiliated with a group known for their paid intimidation efforts. The bikes' make and model are the same as the two motorcycles that Nutsbe traced from the courthouse, turned at the ambush, and drove back to the courthouse. Our AI system indicates that the body proportions of the rider who returned to his bike and the left-riding biker following you at the ambush conform. The traffic camera feed shows that the plates were covered on the road."

"Thanks for the assist, Deep," Titus said.

"Glad to help," Deep said. "That's it from me."

And they disconnected.

"So they ride their bikes to the shop, walk over, break into my house, and interrogate me," Olivia said.

"Do you mind sharing what he wanted from you, Olivia?" Titus asked.

Olivia shifted in her chair. "He wanted to know all the details of the case my team is bringing to a grand jury."

"The assassinations of Middle Eastern dissidents in America?" Nutsbe asked.

Olivia's head whipped toward Nutsbe. "How did you know that?" Olivia held up a hand. "Don't tell me, it's the magic of Iniquus." She cast her gaze around the men. "You all are a little intimidating, to be honest. At least we know the motorcycles weren't the Offseds."

"Any interference from Kyle's brothers is off the table," Nutsbe said, rubbing Olivia's hand so she'd relax her death grip. "They're in Maryland, held on armed robbery charges, and have been there since last weekend. They haven't been able to post bail."

Nutsbe hated this shit show, but it would be so much worse if he thought he'd directed his own Russia-FBI crap in Olivia's direction.

She said she understood how dangerous his job was. And now he knew they both lived in that world. He'd always be worried that he was adding to her dangers instead of providing her with his protection.

Thorn turned to Olivia with Beowolf sprawled at her feet. "According to the medical examiner's preliminary report, Mickey probably died late Tuesday night, the same night you encountered the sniper and ambush."

"Monday, Mickey Pauley attacks you," Thorn said to Nutsbe. "You both get arrested."

Thorn went to the whiteboard and wrote it out.

"He'd already been beaten," Nutsbe said. "Not enough for a tier one to worry about it. That's just another day at the office. But a civilian would think they'd been beaten within an inch of their life."

"Mickey liked the pain of a punch," Olivia shifted back and forth in her chair. "He said it woke up his mind, whatever that means."

Titus added. "Pauley was released. That was the last anyone saw of him until the trunk."

"Someone saw him before the trunk," Thorn countered. "They did something to put him in the trunk."

"Granted," Titus acknowledged.

"The thing about this week is that there are a lot of ducks, and they do not need to be in a row." Olivia sat quietly at the table.

Nutsbe thought she was pale.

"The bikes out of Canada, who saw that coming?" Olivia asked.

Nutsbe wheeled to the other side of the room, grabbed some waters and distributed them around, then moved a basket of coffee pastries onto the table within easy reach of Olivia.

The door opened, and Gage—a fellow Panther—escorted Finley into the war room.

Nutsbe lifted a hand. "There he is, the man we've been waiting for. Finley, I hope you have answers for us. Olivia, this is Special Agent Finley, FBI, Terror. Finley, Olivia Gladstone." Nutsbe wasn't sure that they'd been introduced, only that Finley knew of Olivia and her reputation.

Finley settled onto a seat right across from Olivia. "Seems like you had the golden key, Olivia," he said. "The police got Mickey's passwords from you?"

"They did." She put her hand on Beowolf's head.

"The passwords still worked. Very helpful. The investigators got into Pauley's computer and searched his history."

"And?" Nutsbe moved his chair to sit near Olivia. Beowolf shifted to lay between them and put a paw on Olivia's foot.

"They found a spreadsheet with his notes on sports games, bets, wins, and losses. His losses were up there in the sixty-thousand range. They also found a life insurance policy on his bedside table. Olivia, were you covered for a million dollars? And only you?"

Olivia's brows went to her hairline. "We took that out when we got married. If I were to die, we needed to replace my future income to pay for our marital home. He couldn't keep up the mortgage payment on a police officer's salary. And he got his insurance through work."

"Seeing the insurance papers, the detectives did a file search using the word ‘Insurance,' which they located. MP3 and MP4 files contained video and audio recordings that would identify the people he was interacting with over the gambling debt. We have a trail to figure out who killed Pauley and who put him in your trunk. It's very good evidence. A lot of people are going to get rolled up in this case."

Nutsbe was tapping his fingers on his thigh.

"I'm going to cut to the chase here," Finley said. "Nutsbe's impatient." He focused on Nutsbe. "I don't know if you have a way to get this information, but Judge Greenway is stable. It looks like he'll keep his leg. I don't have details beyond that."

Nutsbe pursed his lips and nodded his acknowledgment. Stable. That was a load off his mind.

"All arrows are pointing to Mickey being the sniper at the courthouse."

Olivia crossed her arms over her chest and leaned forward. "The motive was paying off some people who were threatening him?"

"The FBI is working on it. What are your thoughts, Olivia?"

"Unpaid gambling debt makes sense. Gambling debts and a high-dollar life insurance plan—someone was threatening Mickey; I wasn't helpful to him anymore except as a means for getting his hand on some cash. Yeah. I guess I could see that. Mickey wanted to talk to me the day before the sniper. And I told him I wouldn't do that. I could see him taking Henrietta, my dog, to force communication. He tried to break into my house, and he fought Nutsbe." She frowned. "Maybe it came down to him or me, and he decided he was going to prevail. I can see that, too." She was rocking back and forth as she spoke. "But, Finley, how did they land on Mickey being the sniper? What evidence do you have?"

"On camera, the only car that left the parking garage at the time when the sirens blared belonged to a guy. In his interview, he said that he hadn't driven the car all week. He said during the incident, he was down the street at work. And he had numerous witnesses backing him up. He walks to work. When asked who had access to his keys, he said no one. Next question, Did you ever lend your car to anyone? Answer? ‘My friend Mickey Pauley.' But he said that was over a month ago. The FBI has camera footage of Pauley's car driving to the block behind the friend's house in the correct time window."

"Circumstantial," Olivia said.

"Pauley's weapon was recently fired."

"Damning, perhaps, but still circumstantial," Olivia said.

"Spoken like a federal prosecutor." Finley stood. "The case is still under investigation. We'll keep you up to date."

"Thank you," Titus said as Finley left.

Olivia looked at the clock. She needed to call the office and let them know she wouldn't be in today. Though, the police had already gone over to check on Steph and make sure she was safe. So Olivia wouldn't need to explain why she was taking a personal day. "The detectives wondered If I knew Mickey's passwords. I remembered them. He wasn't great with cyber security, so it's possible he didn't think to change everything from two years ago. That's the last I know. Other than that, I'm exhausted, and I need to get some sleep."

"Do you have friends or family you could stay with for a while?" Titus asked.

"No, of course not." Olivia scowled. "I wouldn't put a target on them; that's absurd."

"Stay at my place," Nutsbe said.

She blinked at him.

"I have two master suites, one upstairs for when I'm walking and one downstairs for when I'm in my chair. You can stay upstairs and have your own floor."

"Okay." She nodded. "Yes, thank you. For a bit anyway, until things settle down and we have some answers."

***

Nutsbe drove them home in complete silence. It felt good to be encapsulated and moving. Nutsbe released some stress along their route by just breathing and listening to classical music on the radio. It seemed to work for Olivia, too.

When he pulled into his drive, they sat in the car, holding hands. "Is this too much for you?" she asked. "All this violence I seem to be dragging you into?"

"Your job is dangerous." Nutsbe unfastened his seat belt and turned to her. "My job is dangerous. Your job puts you in international crosshairs and so does mine. We are not the kind of people with a low tolerance for danger. It isn't naivete. Someone has to do it – why not me? That's how I think about it anyway."

"A calling for me." She agreed. "I am risk-aware but not risk-averse." She cleared her throat. "Is that only our jobs, Nutsbe? Or is that private lives too?" She put her free hand to her heart. "I care for you deeply—what I know about you in a few days is all about character and not much about the details. But still, I feel deeply connected. One could, I guess, even call it falling in love."

"One could?" he grinned, his eyes alight with teasing.

"Yeah, that was cautious. Sorry. Here's me bravely saying that I'm most definitely falling in love."

"I bravely return your feelings." He chuckled. "Oh what a few days can do to the trajectory of a life, right?" He painted his thumb over the back of her hand. "Though I'm not in the process of falling. I love you, Olivia. Simple as that."

"Okay, so we agree then? We're going to be brave enough to start a new relationship, but we need to do it knowing that we will always be a danger to ourselves and each other."

"I don't know," Nutsbe said. "Do I want to be around when you're hangry because you always forget to eat?" He winked. "Look, Olivia, we're past the shiny expectations of youth, right? We get that there will be rough patches. I want your lows so I can take care of you. And I want the highs so I can rejoice with you. And I want the calm of sharing a bowl of ziti and cheese and hang out with Beowolf and Henrietta on the couch."

"We haven't done that yet," Olivia whispered.

"A guy can dream. I want to fully live and fully love all of you."

She leaned in to kiss him, pulling back just enough to whisper. "Just no tears."

"Yeah, that's my deal breaker." His eyes warm with emotion. "Other than that? Bring it."