Page 74 of S.O.S. Mizzay

Son of a…

“Who is it?” Wiley asked from behind her. “Can you tell? Is he alive?”

Andy growled. “Fuck. It’s Oliphant, and it sure looks like…”

An agonizingly wet wheeze came out of the trapped man.

Still alive.

Andy didn’t give a fuck that he was in pain and probably close to death. The asshole had made everyone’s lives suck for nearly a decade and a half.

There was only one thing she wanted from him before he took his last breath.

Andy reached over and grabbed him by the hair, jerking his head back.

His eyes barely focused on hers.

“Is Beranger working with you?” she growled, giving him a shake.

A bloody smile appeared on Oliphant’s lips. “That…asshole? Don’t…make me…laugh.” He choked, then gasped for air. “He’s just…stupid prick.”

“Who, then?” Andy demanded. “Who in the FBI?” She manhandled him again.

“Fuck…you,” Oliphant managed, coughing the words out weakly.

Before she could get anything else out of him, his eyes widened, a final breath escaped from between his lips, and his body went completely slack.

“Goddammit.” Andy slammed the man’s head back into the steering wheel, snarling.

She inched her way from the car, fuming.

“Well?” Billboard asked when she finally had her feet on terra firma.

Andy was pissed. She hated that Oliphant had escaped justice, but she hoped he rotted in hell for all of eternity.

“You want the good news?” she asked Billboard.

“Yeah,” Wiley spoke for both of them.

“The prick is dead.”

“And the bad news,” Billboard asked.

Andy glowered. “Beranger isn’t our man.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Missy went back to her car and let Cobble know the details of what had happened and to assure him she was okay. Billboard called Baskins, and Wiley alerted the local police.

The Director instructed BB in no uncertain terms that other than traffic control, the PD was not to touch the crime scene. The locals were to be informed that the Feds had jurisdiction over this case, and that any grandstanding or interference on their part would be a regretful choice.

The police arrived first—because of course they would, due to proximity—and Missy handled things diplomatically. She let them know that this accident was the culmination of a long-running investigation, and not only were the FBI on the way, but a cadre from the DOJ would be arriving on their heels.

That was enough to have the officers taking a step back; hence no threats of bodily harm had been necessary. The officers were polite and professional, and after an initial look at the crime scene, they went about setting up road blocks and taking care of the sparse traffic that made its way down the road, as well as waving the fire trucks in when they arrived.

Within the hour, Director Baskins himself rolled up with Agent Fleischerman riding shotgun.

The final car to arrive held two Special Agents from the DOJ whom Missy knew in passing, but the pair had only been added to the ranks about five years ago. So even if they hadn’t been thoroughly vetted before being hired—which of course they had been—their short-term at the Department cleared them of all suspicion.

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