Page 69 of Bonded in Death

“Are you getting me the ashes?” And she couldn’t help it. She stood, began to pace.

“Understand, I’ve now put my arse in a sling, and I don’t care for my arse in a sling.”

“Abernathy.”

“I spoke with Warden Meedy. He’s a bit of a bell-end, isn’t he?”

“If that’s Brit forasshole, yeah, more than a bit. Are you getting me the ashes?”

“I have an order of exhumation. I have to personally witness the exhumation, take possession of the ashes. Which means going to bloody Manchester, so add that to the pile.”

“That’s great. Gratitude. How long will it take?”

“I don’t believe you understand or appreciate the various channels of bureaucracy that have to be navigated to send exhumed human remains from bloody Manchester to New York.”

“We’ve got red tape on this side of the Atlantic, too. When will I get them?”

He only sighed. “I’m already en route. I expect they’ll be in the hands of the special courier by six, who will then transport them to New York.”

“Is that six over there? With the planet doing the revolving crap? Or real time?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Never mind.” She’d do the math. “I’m going to give you the name and location for delivery. Dr. Garnet DeWinter,” Eve began, and gave him the rest.

“She’ll need to receive them personally, and have the proper identification and paperwork.”

“She will. You know, this is your guy who broke out of your prison over there killing people over here. But I appreciate your help.”

“That’s generous of you.” Sarcasm dripped. “You’d best not be wrong.”

“I’m not wrong, and it’s going on your record with Interpol that you assisted in the recapture of a war criminal. It’ll be worth a trip to bloody Manchester. I’ll be in touch.”

When she clicked off, Whitney gave her a steady look, and a hint of smile. “Depending on the type of transportation used, the remains should be with DeWinter between four or five this evening. Barring delays.”

“I’ll inform her.”

“My strings, such as they are, won’t need to be pulled.” Tibble rose. “I’ll speak with Dr. DeWinter, and expedite the necessary bureaucracy on our end.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I might question the wisdom of bringing all potential targets into your home, but I’ve been to your home.”

“They’ll be safe there, Chief. And accessible.”

“Make it so. Commander, keep me updated. Twenty-four/seven on this one.”

“You can count on that.”

“Lieutenant, I know you’ll consider no good deed goes unpunished, but when this breaks, when you have him, you’ll be required to do media conferences. International media conferences.”

Her stomach just sank. “Yes, sir.”

He flashed a grin—rare and brilliant. “No good deed.”

When he left, Whitney walked to his window. “You made your case in your report, which Chief Tibble read. He needed to see you make it.” He turned back. “You’re not wrong on Potter.”

“No, sir.”

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