Page 104 of Hush
“That wasn’t the question.”
“Sir—”
“Judge Brewer has never stayed in the suite at the Hyatt you set up for him. We’ve rotated the agents assigned there down to one, and they’re just on-call. Have you been providing round-the-clock protection, Inspector?”
“I… have, yes, sir. Judge Brewer wanted to keep a lower profile. He asked to go to a friend’s house, and I’ve been staying there with him.” Not quite a lie. Not quite the truth either.
“So in all this time, you have had no days off. No nights off. Full time protection with no relief.”
“It’s fine, sir. Judge Brewer and I work well together. I’m doing great.”
“You’re well outside of regulations, Lucciano. You know that. Protective agents need relief and rest, or they are not effective.”
Silence.
“The trial is fast approaching, and Judge Brewer needs you to be on your A-game. You need a break.”
“Sir—”
“You’re done, Lucciano! Go home. Get some rest. Villegas will take over for you.”
“For how long?” He shouldn’t let that tone creep into his voice, but damn it! He couldn’t lose Tom, couldn’t pass his protection off to Villegas. Not now, not after everything.
“Twenty-four hours to start. Report to me tomorrow morning.” Winters eyeballed him, glaring. “Understood?”
Fuck. “Yes, sir.”
“Where is Judge Brewer staying now? You’ve kept him on the move and have redacted his specific location from your reports. Villegas will need a handover from you. Brief him before you leave.” Winters’s eyes narrowed. “I want you out of the building in thirty minutes. Asleep within the hour.”
Fat chance. “Yes, sir. Is Villegas here?”
“Waiting for you in his office.”
Villegas was sitting on his desk, smirking, when Mike walked in. “Whoa, someone got a tan.” He had a folder open with all of Mike’s daily reports. Some of them—every report filed from their weekend at the beach—were outright fiction. “These are pretty lean, Lucciano. You don’t even detail Brewer’s location. This is why we couldn’t find him when we needed to.”
“I’m being extra cautious.”
“Keeping vital data from us? Your teammates?” Villegas snorted. “Sounds like you’re hiding something.Fromus.”
He grabbed the folder out of Villegas’s hands and scrawled Kris’s address on the inside flap. “He’s staying here. With one of his friends.”
“Do you have the keys?”
“No.” Yes. He did. But he was going up to Tom’s chambers and giving them straight to him. He’d be damned if Villegas was going to have total access to Kris’s place. “Judge Brewer has the keys.”
Villegas glared at him. “What about routes into DC? What have you driven?”
He sketched out his routes around the north and east of DC. “I get him into the courthouse at six AM each day.” He hesitated, but scribbled another note. “Here’s the kind of coffee he likes.”
Villegas’s eyebrows rose. “You’re pulling out all the stops for this guy.” He smirked again. “Gotta crush, Lucciano? You like your guys older, don’t you?”
“Shut the fuck up. I don’t have to take this shit from you.”
“Whoa! Jesus! Can’t take a joke? This is why I don’t fucking like you. You’re impossible to talk to!”
Mike ground his teeth together. He and Villegas were like oil and vinegar, or two pieces of sandpaper rubbing against each other. They never came together right. “Whatever. Try not to be an asshole to Judge Brewer. Just keep your mouth shut around him.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence.” Villegas took the folder back and stood, standing right in Mike’s personal space. He stared Mike down. “Look. You’re acting shifty. I know you’re covering something up. Whatever it is you’re doing, I’m going to find out.”
