Page 122 of Black Bird

“It’s open,” he called, minimizing all the open tabs on his computer and leaning over the back of his chair. Foster stepped inside and chose not to sit down, instead leaning herself against the wall across from him.

“Where are they?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“If you’re talking about the extra boxes of coffee, I’m afraid you’re out of luck, Agent Foster.” He made it a point not to look at her.

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Your sweet detectives aren’t making themselves look any less guilty here, Captain.”

Foley raised his eyes to her. “Mydetectivesare not the bad guys. They catch the bad guys and work tirelessly … even from home. They’re not guilty of anything, in my opinion, other than making you sweat.”

“Oh, I’m as dry as one can get, I assure you.”

Foley quirked a brow and smirked. “I’d say that’s an understatement.”

Foster huffed a laugh and rolled her eyes. “So, the second body that turns up that has a heavy resemblance to youronlysurviving witness, has the name of one of your detectives written in blood … the same detective that has a photo that clearly wasn’t taken as part of this case, stashed in his desk drawer? That doesn’t seem suspicious to you at all?”

“He got too close. I took them both off the case. I already warned them what would happen. The only thing suspicious to me is that you feel the need to go through a detective’s personal belongings to build your own case. He gave you everything you could possibly need.”

“Did he?” Foster smiled, pushing off the wall and approaching his desk. “Because it seems to me that if it wasn’t personal to begin with, then it certainly is now. And I find it even more strange that his captain hasn’t pieced that together before it got to this point. Now, I don’t give a shit whatever little love triangle is going on here with this witness. What I do know is that body after body is starting to accumulate in this city, and strangely they all seem to revolve around your sexy detective and his little love interest. If that doesn’t bother you, Captain … then I question whether you’re capable of drawing a professional line here.”

“Get the hell out of my office,” Foley sneered, leaning his tall frame across the desk.

“Oh, I plan to. As soon as you tell me where I can find Athan Kane and the girl that I’ve been tasked with bringing in. You swore an oath, Captain. Do the right thing. Your city depends on it.”

Foley turned a framed photo of his military portrait towards her. “You see this, Agent Foster? I’ve spent many years serving my country. A country that repeatedly told us we were doing the right thing. There came a point where I had to make a decision, between what was right … and what was easy. Nobody ever cared how many bodies dropped on either side, as long as they were outside of this country. You can try to tell yourself that following orders is the right thing if that’s what makes you sleep better at night. It’s clear to me that there’s a lot more than a murderer after this girl, and nothing about it smells right to me. Going with my gut has been something that served me well when I made one of the biggest decisions of my life. So … this is me telling you thatI don’t knowwhere they are. And I wouldn’t tell you even if I did.”

Foster smirked at him, sneering as she did and backed away towards the door. “Suit yourself, Captain. I hope yourgutis worth whatever you might lose for following it. I’ll make sure to replace your coffee.” With that, she turned and walked out, leaving the door open out of spite and continuing to hold onto that smile as she passed his window and headed back towards her team.

He thought back to his time in service. At all the horrible things he did under contract. All the things he wished he could forget, and all for the sake of what he had been manipulated to believe was right. He loved his country and wanted to protect it. But he refused to be a part of what he knew was being cooked up in private offices and piles of money. Whateverinterest everyone had in Sarah St. James was enough for one of his best and most private detectives to risk it all to protect her. He knew deep down that Athan Kane was harboring some dark secrets. The skeletons Kane had in his closet were breaking out to come after him, and now Northwood and this victim were in the crosshairs right along with him. He thought back to the day that he’d asked them to go question St. James while she recovered in the hospital. It was the first time that Foley had seen Kane appear off kilter since he’d been here. As much as he hated to admit that Agent Foster was onto something—she was. And he’d had that suspicion for a long while now.

Foley picked up his desk phone and dialed Northwood. It went straight to her voicemail. He tried Kane next … same thing. At least they had been smart enough to make themselves invisible. Brandon Jenkins passed by his office door on his way to the break room. Foley downed half his cup of coffee and followed behind him, cracking the door nearly closed when they found themselves alone.

“Mornin’ Cap,” Jenkins nodded toward him as he rinsed out his mug.

“Jenkins.” Foley dipped his head, refilling his own. He passed the pot to the detective and tried to appear normal while the agents across the precinct took turns glancing through the blinds—Foster especially. Foley leaned against the counter. “Jenkins, I know you and Northwood are close.”

Jenkins stiffened. “I—I dunno what you’re talk—”

“Relax, detective. I don’t care who you all spend your time with as long as it doesn’t interfere with your job. I believe I’ve been clear about that. I’m telling you I know for a different reason, and I need you to listen carefully.”

“Alright, sir.”

“Those agents are gonna try to pick apart anything they can about Kane and Northwood. If there’s anything leading them to you, then you’ll be the next one they come after for answers. If you care about her, then you better have something in play to steer them away from any answers that lead them toher. Wherever she is, Kane likely is, and whatever they’ve gotten themselves into, they’re gonna need help with. I’m gonna do my part in keeping them cloaked for as long as I can. While they’re off the radar, we need to do what we can to help them out, and in my experience, two are better than one. Can I trust you, Jenkins?”

“Yes, sir. Absolutely.” Jenkins turned away from the break room window and stirred condiments into his coffee. “I know where they are. If it comes down to it, I’ll do whatever it takes to throw them off. Just let me know when you need me.”

“I need you to sign out a laptop and go home. Do some digging away from the precinct and keep their eyes off of you.”

“Alright. What am I digging for?”

Foley sighed deeply and made his way to the door. “Anything you can find out about Conrad Stratford and Black Bird Tavern.”

“After all I’ve done to help you, this is the thanks I get?”

“Thanks? Let me be clear, Senator. We’re both in the same position, as of now. The only difference between you and I, is that I haven’t started waving my white flag … nor do I plan to. There are still plenty more options for you. Mine are limited. I suppose you’ll have to decide for yourself what sacrifices you’ll make to obtain what you want.”

“I didn’t think you’d be careless enough to lose your source.”

Dahlia barked a laugh.“And I didn’t think you’d be daft enough to willingly give yours away. Either get it back yourself or find another way. That’s what I plan to do.”

---