Page 7 of Blind Justice

“Marcel,” Alex answered, putting the call on speaker.

“Agent Marcel,” Calloway’s voice was smooth, deliberate. “We need to talk. Without your partner.”

Alex sat up. “That so?”

“It is,” Calloway replied. “I’d prefer this conversation in person.”

Noah noticed how even Alex kept his voice. “What’s this about?”

“Noah Kandor,” Calloway said flatly. “And how far you’re willing to go for him.”

Alex’s grip on the phone tightened. “I’ll be there in five, sir.” He gave Noah one last concerned look before heading toward the door. “You heard the boss—he wants to talk about you.” At the door, he turned to face Noah. “Promise me you’ll at least try to close your eyes for a few minutes tonight.”

Noah waved him off, his mind already shifting back to the puzzle in front of him. “Yeah, yeah. We can gossip when you get back.” He took a sip of coffee. He had to stop drinking so much caffeine. “I’ll catch up on sleep when Fairchild is behind bars.”

Alex chuckled softly as he left, but Noah could hear the tension beneath it. They both knew this case was becoming more dangerous by the day.

Noah glanced at the stack of files on his desk again, his eyes tracing the names and numbers, searching for the pattern he knew was there. The truth was close—he could feel it, but so was the danger. And for the first time in his career, Noah wasn’t sure which would come first.

The quiet should have been a relief, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Well, of course it was. The boss wanted to talk about him.

Noah wasn’t stupid. He knew how things went in his line of work. You go after someone like Maxim Fairchild, and people start talking.

At first, it was whispers in the bullpen—comments muttered just loud enough for him to hear.Kandor’s been on this like a dog with a bone.What’s his angle?Guy’s obsessed.Nothing new, just the usual grumbling from agents who liked their jobs clean and predictable.

But then it got sharper.

A case like Fairchild’s didn’t just attract attention—it dragged it in, kicking and screaming. And not just from the people on the other side of the law. Higher-ups started watching. Colleagues started keeping their distance. Some were annoyed, others outright resentful. The last thing they wanted was a big fish like Fairchild knowing someone was digging around in his business. Because when someone like Fairchild noticed you—you became a problem to solve.

It wasn’t just about the case anymore. It was the politics, the bureaucracy, the egos in the office that turned something real into something personal. The jealous ones who thought he was grandstanding. The ambitious ones who thought he was reckless. The ones who worried that his digging would bring Fairchild’s attention somewhere it didn’t belong—onto them.

Work gossip had a way of traveling. And if it reached the wrong ears, it wasn’t just Noah’s job on the line. It was his safety. His career. Maybe more.

So, yeah, he was worried. And for damn good reason.

* * *

The heavy glassdoor clicked shut behind Alex Marcel, leaving Calloway alone in his office. He exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have, but it was one he couldn’t ignore.

Through the window, the city stretched under a pale sun, but his thoughts stayed firmly inside these walls. Marcel took the warning seriously—Calloway could see it in his face, in the slight tension in his jaw as he left. That was good. He needed someone to watch Noah Kandor, because Noah sure as hell wasn’t watching out for himself.

Calloway leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming absently on the desk. He didn’t doubt Kandor’s instincts—hell, the man was one of the best investigators in the state. But talent meant nothing if it got you killed. And Fairchild? Fairchild wasn’t just another corrupt businessman; he was a problem that knew how to stay hidden.

And yet Noah kept pressing, kept digging, like he didn’t know what it meant to pull at the wrong threads. Worse, his own coworkers were starting to take notice. Calloway had heard the whispers—resentment, irritation, jealousy. Some agents didn’t like that Kandor was putting a target on the office. Others just didn’t like him, period.

That was dangerous. Office gossip had a way of slipping beyond office walls, and when the wrong ears picked it up, people got hurt.

Calloway glanced at the half-empty coffee mug on his desk, his appetite for caffeine gone. He had been in this job long enough to know when trouble was coming. And right now? It was barreling straight toward Noah Kandor.

He just hoped Marcel would be able to pull him out before it was too late. He had seen agents like Noah before—driven, relentless, too stubborn to know when to pull back. It made them good at their jobs, but it also made them reckless. And recklessness got people noticed.

Alex had seen it too. He just wasn’t ready to admit it.

“Marcel,” Calloway had said just before Alex stood to leave. “You know I’m right about this.”

Alex had hesitated, gripping the arms of his chair like he wasn’t sure whether to stay or go. “Noah’s careful,” he had said, but his tone lacked conviction.

“Noah’s smart,” Calloway corrected. “Careful? That’s another thing entirely.” He leaned forward. “The office is talking. Some of them think he’s got a grudge; some think he’s in over his head. Either way, that kind of chatter doesn’t stay in-house. If Fairchild catches wind of it, what do you think happens next?”

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