Page 161 of Can You Take It?

“For now, yes,” he says firmly. “Take the time, reflect on what happened. We’ll reassess after your suspension.”

Just as I’m about to respond, Wilson’s phone rings. He glances at the screen and then back at me. “I’ve got to take this,” he says, already turning away. “Go home, Reynolds. We’ll talk later.”

I watch him walk off, phone pressed to his ear, his voice fading as he moves down the hallway. I’m left standing there, still trying to wrap my head around everything that just happened.

I head towards the exit. I need to figure out why Wilson covered for me, and what this all means for my future. But fornow, all I can do is follow orders and take some time to clear my head.

Two Months Later…

I’m staring at the board, piecing together everything about the Ghostface Striker. Victor Montclair is dead, finally. But there’s something that keeps itching at the back of my head, something I can’t shake off.

I’m so lost in thought I don’t even hear Luna come in until she’s right behind me. “What the hell are you doing? You’re supposed to be suspended, not playing detective.”

I turn to face her. “Something isn’t adding up, Luna. I know Victor Montclair is dead, but there are loose ends.”

“Even Wilson has dropped the case, Rick. You should, too,” she says, exasperated.

“Isn’t that strange?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Wilson never drops a case so high profile. And now there’s a homicide detective on it instead?”

Luna crosses her arms, sighing. “You need to let it go. You’re risking too much. Have you spoken to Izel?”

I shake my head. “You know I can’t. My phone could be wired, and I don’t want any FBI officers sniffing around her and linking anything back to the Striker’s case. Some rookie might make a connection and blow everything wide open.”

She softens a bit, stepping closer. “I know you’re worried, but you need to be careful. You’re no good to anyone if you get yourself deeper into trouble.”

I barely register her warning. “Did you get me what I asked for?”

Luna sighs, reaching into her bag. “You mean illegally digging up high school records for some guy named David Taylor, who owns that restaurant you took your girlfriend to? Here.” She hands me a file, looking both amused and resigned.

I take the file and sit down heavily. I pour myself a generous glass of bourbon, feeling the burn as it slides down. Luna sits next to me, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig directly. I watch her for a moment before focusing on the file in my hands.

Willis the one name that keeps coming up in connection to this case. Despite everything, the trail always circles back to him in some way. But the guy is a ghost—no one seems to know what he looks like or where he’s gone. So now I’m going through David’s old yearbook, hoping to find some clue.

Luna watches me, curiosity piqued. “What are you looking for?”

I don’t answer her. My eyes are glued to the pages, flipping through photos of faces I don’t recognize, until I finally find what I’m looking for. There’s a picture of Ava, and beside her… holy hell.

Will…

I walk back into the office, and it's like stepping into a different world. My first day back after suspension, and nothing feels the same. This place that once felt like home now feels alien. The comfort I used to find here, I know now, can only come from Izel.

As I step further in, I’m greeted by Noah, Colton, Emily, and Luna. They welcome me with smiles and pats on the back, saying things like, “This place hasn’t been the same without you,” and“Good to have you back, Rick.” I offer them awkward smiles, feeling out of place and disconnected.

I glance around the room, taking in the familiar sights. The desks, the monitor, the smell of stale coffee—all of it feels foreign now. I make my way to my desk, which is buried under a pile of case files. Everyone eventually files out, leaving me alone to confront the mountain of work.

Just as I’m pretending to read a file, Wilson walks in. He stands in the doorway, giving me a welcoming nod. “Reynolds, good to have you back.”

I look up from the file I’m barely looking at and force a smile. “Just the man I was looking for.”

Wilson raises an eyebrow, stepping further into the room. “Oh? And what can I do for you?”

I lean back in my chair, tapping a pen against the desk. “I was just going through some old files, trying to get back into the swing of things. Funny thing, though, I came across something interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

I grin, leaning forward. “I’ll get to that in a while. But let me continue the story. After I came across somethinginteresting, it got me thinking harder about why a Deputy Director would go out of his way to save a Supervisory Special Agent from a murder rap of the potential infamous Ghostface Striker. And I came up with a few theories.”

He crosses his arms, waiting. “Oh, this should be good.”

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