Page 90 of Bears Behaving Badly
“Well. Yes.”
There was another short silence, broken by David’s “Aw. That’s cute.”
“Shut up.” She sighed. “Anyway. I knew what I was getting into when I told him about the opening in Accounting last year.”
David laughed.
“Again, shut up. How was I supposed to know he’d spend more time in our break room than theirs? Stop laughing. You’re going to drive us into a ditch.”
“It’s downtown Saint Paul. There aren’t any ditches.”
“So he bugs you, but you helped him get a job here.”
“Well, I can’t let him starve to death, can I?”
“Good point. You either help Oz get a job or he starves to death. No middle ground there. And I’m gonna put it out there…”
“Oooooh.”
“…because I already pissed you off by suggesting Nadia might be the mole. But what about Oz?” When she had no comment, he plunged ahead. “He’s relatively new. He bugged the shit out of you to let him help onthisparticular case. But why this one? You’re always taking care of cubs in trouble. So why now?”
“Those are good points,” Annette replied. Because objectively, they were. But her gut told her
(fuck no. impossible.)
otherwise. Also, her gut had a potty mouth. She thought about the brutality captured on film, the pain and desperation on the cubs’ faces, and the fury on Caro’s. She’d seen that fury before, and not just in the course of her duty.
“Oz Adway,” she said slowly and carefully, “would not hurt a cub if you had him by the throat. He wouldn’t abet abuse, even peripherally. And I deeply pity Lund’s nasty little colleagues if Oz finds them before we do.” She thought about it. “Well, I would pity them. But not deeply.”
“Where’s the money come from?”
“Pardon?”
“Adway dresses like he’s got a six-figure clothing budget.”
“Well. He does.”
“And he drives a Maserati. So why does he even work here? He’s rich.”
“He works here because of how he got rich. I can’t go into it,” she added, anticipating his question. “It’s not my story to tell. I’m aware that adds to our difficulty.”
There was another pause while David thought it over. “All right,” he said. “But I think we can agree that thereisa mole. So who is it? Who was helping Lund?”
“Brennan?”
“He was skeezy,” David agreed, “but on the plus side, he sure didn’t like Lund. So it might be a mark in his favor. D’you think he found out what Lund was doing?”
“I wondered. But if he did, there were things he could have done or said to put that across to us. And if not us, someone else from IPA. There are ways around privilege, especially when the client is dead. And where the welfare of minors is concerned. But this…his contempt for Lund felt personal. Not just a professional thing along the lines of ‘Gosh, this client is such a pest!’”
“Tell you what—I’ve got the sudden urge to pay my respects to a dead pet importer-exporter. Think we can find out where the memorial is?”
“What a coincidence, I’ve got the same urge! Yes, and yes. And I’ll bet Nadia can help.” Annette grinned and grabbed a burner. “What’s crashing a memorial compared to obstruction, anyway?”
* * *
I love strawberry Jolly Ranchers now! Even if they’re like eating rock-hard sugar cubes steeped in artificial flavors and colors!Thanks to that glorious paean to cavities, she had David backed up against the changing-room door, her hands roaming beneath his shirt, his mouth doing wicked, astonishing things to her throat.
Also, this was all Nadia’s fault. She was late. So they waited. And waited. And oops! Suddenly there was a piece of sticky candy in her hair. Just hanging there all by itself. In her hair. By accident. Which she couldn’t see. Because it was in her hair. By accident. But David, ever the gentleman
