Page 95 of Girl Between
“It’s hard to say. Bloodlines run deep here so it could be nothing more than coincidence.” Jake and Dana exchanged wary looks. “But I know how Dr. Gray here feels about coincidence.” George winked, which made Shepard look like he was about to start spitting teeth.
Dana squirmed between the two men, fighting for whatever space she could in the booth that was clearly meant for two. “How come the DNA never matched before?”
“The Harvest Girls are classified as missing persons. No criminal history, so nothing in the database to reference. LaSalle went the extra mile. Looked up birth certificates, medical history, and bingo,” George said, draping an arm along the booth behind Dana. He had no trouble laying his flirting on thick despite the daggers Jake was shooting him. “You were right, Gray. I think there might be more to uncover on the Harvest Girls.”
“What’s next?” Dana asked.
“I think it might be worth talking to the families after all. We’ll start with the Bartons and see where that leads. Assuming the BAU shares our sentiment.”
Just then, their waiter returned with a bucket of champagne.Jake’s eyebrows rose. “A little premature to be celebrating, don’t ya think?” he grumbled.
“I didn’t order champagne,” said George.
“I did,” came a gravelly voice. A salt and pepper haired man sauntered over to the table in an expensive blue suit—shoulders broad, hair cropped enlistment short. George recognized the ex-Army officer instantly.
“Richter!” Dana shrieked. “You’re here!”
“You think I’d let my favorite duo have all the fun without me?”
Shepard slid out of the booth so Dana could throw her arms around the iron-jawed man. When she released him, Shepard shook his hand. George stood up and followed suit. He, of course, knew who Richter was, but it’d been a while so he made the introduction anyway. “Detective Vincent Flynn George, NOPD.”
“That’s a mouthful, son. Can I just call you Flynn for old times’ sake, or will you be calling me Supervisory Special Agent Grant Richter, FBI?”
“George is just fine,” replied George, grinning at the old battle axe. He hadn’t trained under the man directly, but their paths had crossed in the Army. More than that, George’s father and Richter had their own history. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, sir. You’re early. Where’s the rest of the BAU?”
“Who knows? Probably getting their bottoms powdered,” Richter muttered, pulling over a chair. “We fly commercial now,” he said jauntily, passing out the four glasses of champagne the waiter had expertly poured before slinking away.
“What happened to the jet?” asked Dana.
“No-sack!” Shepard and Richter said in unison, clinking glasses at the inside joke.
“They’ll be here at sun-up,” Richter said with a sigh. “I wanted a few hours to dig in the old-fashioned way before the young guns start talking algorithms and anarchy.” He raised his glass in the air. “To getting the band back together. And new members,” he amended, nodding in George’s direction.
They all clinked and drank. “So,” Richter said. “I’m famished. Did you already order?”
As if summoned, their waiter appeared. “What can I get for you, sir?”
Richter pointed to Shepard. “I’ll have what he’s having. No offense, Gray. I still don’t know how you live on rabbit food.”
“Healthily,” she said with a grin.
That egged the two Feds on as intended. George had no choice but to take a backseat on his first, and definitely failed, attempt at an official date with the intrepid Dr. Dana Gray.
84
Dana chewedher nails as she followed George out of the restaurant.
“You sure you won’t join us?” he asked as they stepped onto Royal Street. Shepard and Richter were already outside, continuing their griping while Richter lit a cigarette.
George had recommended a jazz club nearby and been roped into playing tour guide. Normally, Dana would’ve loved to check out the famous jazz scene New Orleans was known for, but after listening to Richter confirm Jake’s fears about the FBI’s new regime under Director Nowak, she was too worried to enjoy herself.
She needed to find a way on this case. And she needed to win the new BAU unit chief over so she could explain how irreplaceable agents like Richter and Shepard were.
“Sorry,” Dana said. “I’m beat. I’m gonna call it a night.”
“Then I’ll walk you to your room,” George offered.
She laughed. “I think you already have. I’m literally across the street.”
