Chapter Eight

The next morning, I woke up feeling spectacular. I had a good run and arrived at the office before anyone else. The quiet in the morning was the best time to work. I had a few months of Intel reports to look over.

Right before eight o'clock, there was a knock on my door.

"Come in," I said, without looking. When I heard the door shut, I turned from my monitor.

Chandler sat in one of the gray chairs across from the desk. "So, did you see the distillery report?"

I turned back to the monitor. "I did."

"And?"

"You did an excellent job. I was pleasantly surprised."

"Well, I followed your advice and didn't go myself to scout the location. I can't take all of the credit."

I turned back to him, eyebrows raised. "Someone else went?"

He wiped his hands on his pant legs. "He told me not to tell anyone, but Captain Williams really came through. Went off without a hitch because of him."

My mouth dropped. I didn't how to respond.

"Please, don't tell him I told you," he said.

"Why doesn't he want anyone to know?"

"He's not PF. The Chief would have a fit if he knew SIS stuck their noses in our business."

Or he had another motive.

I narrowed my eyes and studied his face. "Why are you telling me?"

He shifted in his seat, and then scratched the top of his head. "I guess because it is your case. I'd rather tell you myself than deal with the repercussions when you figure it out on your own."

I leaned back in my seat. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

His whole demeanor changed as if suddenly a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

The door swung open after a brief, sharp knock. The Chief's elderly secretary waltzed in. Her almost white curls bounced with every step.

"Lieutenant Andrews. Welcome back," she said hoarsely and dropped a stack of papers in front of me.

On the top was a memo from the Chief. My presence was requested at the city council meeting that afternoon.

"Is the Chief in his office?"

She turned around in the doorway. "No. I don't suspect he will, with the meetings today."

She left the door open and sauntered off. I stared at the note. Brent had told me about it, but I didn't actually believe him.

"What's wrong?" Chandler asked.

"Nothing." I laid the stack of papers to the side. "Do you have time to go over last week's reports? Before the ten o'clock?"

His eyes widened. "Yeah," he said excitedly.

I cracked a smile. It had been a while since I asked him to help me with anything, but I didn't think he'd be that excited. Brent vexed me, but I decided to put it out of my mind for the time being. I didn't like being thrown into the city council meeting and the Chief wasn't around to ask. It gnawed at the back of my mind for the rest of the morning.

***

The Intel meeting was held quarterly to coincide with city council meetings. The Chief needed updates on any critical cases. Chandler and I went to the second floor together. When we arrived, the other four agents were already in the conference room. Brewer and Dawson sat with their backs to the door. When the others saw us arrive, they clammed up, making me wonder what they were talking about. Chandler pulled the only free chair out next to Brewer and sat. I went into the room across the hall to grab a couple more chairs.

Brewer's obnoxious voice echoed through the hall. "Hey, Chandler. Man, you got lucky pulling that distillery case. Piggybacking off Andrews." I glared at the back of his shaggy chestnut hair as I entered the room. "Damn, she'll be back today, won't she?"

I walked to the end of the table and slammed the chairs down. "Yeah, sorry to ruin your day."

"I didn't mean it like that...I just..."

I sat down and crossed my legs. "Spare me. Why don't you explain what is going on at the hospital?"

"I don't answer to you."

"Well then, we'll wait until the Chief comes to hear what you're doing wrong."

He leaned forward. "Look I've tried getting them to talk."

"Considering you spent how many years turning them in for petty offenses, I can't say I'm surprised."

"When are you going to let that go? That was two years ago."

"And you think they'd just forget and start to trust you?"

The Chief walked into the room and slammed the door shut. "Alright, that's enough. Let's make this short. Number one on the mayor's concerns is the hospital. Brewer, what's going on?"

"Extra officers are stationed in the waiting rooms. No fights broke out since then."

"I don't see anything about the interrogations. What came of that?"

"Well, huh, we haven't been able to extract any information from the guilty parties."

Here it comes.

"You've had over a month. Don't you think that is more than enough time to learn their motives and whether or not they are related or isolated incidents? It is good that it hasn't happened again, but once again your lack of results is concerning. You need to try harder. I'll think of something to tell the mayor."

Wait, what? Why didn't he reassign the case?

"Shouldn't someone else get involved at this point?" I asked.

"Yes. It is up to Brewer to ask for help. I can't hold his hand every step of the way. Moving on. Dawson."

"The pharmacy shortages are due to the increase in sickness.  Everything is accounted for. There are simply more sick people than medicine. No evidence of break-ins or theft."

"Any new leads from the group?"

Murmurs of "no" spread through the room.

"What have you all been doing? Only one of you has been working in recruit training the past three months. Go find out what's going on in this city."

The Chief got up and stormed out the door. I tried to follow him, but Brewer got in my face.

"So, you thought you'd just steal my case?"

"You know you're in over your head. Move out of my way." I tried to step around him, but he got right in front of me and looked down, pointing a finger in my face.

"No. This is bullshit. You always come in here and talk down to me, like you're the queen or something. I'm tired of it."

"I don't have time for this." I pushed passed him. He grasped my arm.

"Don't ignore me."

"Listen, jockhead. Let go of my arm."

"Stop treating me like I'm second-class."

"Not second-class. Second-rate. Now let go."

"Let go of her," Chandler said.

"Shut up, what are you? Her lap dog?"

Dawson grabbed Brewer's hand and pried it off my arm.

"If I have a bruise, I'm going to give you one back ten fold," I said and rushed out into the hall. Of course, the Chief was gone. I raced downstairs and checked his office, the break rooms, and the lobby, but I did not find him. I made my way back to my office and shut the door. Damn, Brewer, always in the way. Nothing to do except wait for the meeting, since I was not going to get a chance to ask about it.