“I can’t wait.”
Sam slapped the phone closed. “Comedians everywhere I look.”
“You inspire us with your dry wit, babe.”
“Whatever you say. There’d better not be any needles, or I’m going to hold that against you for weeks.”
“I’ll take one for the team if we can get you feeling better.”
“Don’t be nice to me when I’m pissed off.”
“Yes, dear.”
A low snort from the front seat was followed by a throat clearing.
“Are we entertaining you, Brant?”
“Always, ma’am.”
“He’s going to write one hell of a memoir about his time with us,” Sam said to Nick, as she often did.
“Your secrets are safe with me, ma’am.”
Nick smiled at her, which made her feel better. That’s what he did. He made everything better, even a potentially busted ass.
She flipped open her phone and called Freddie.
“Morning. How about this snow?”
“I’m very angry with the snow and the ice at the moment, as I’m on my way to GW to get my ass checked.”
“Oh damn. From the fall?”
“Yep.”
“Crap. It must be bad if you’re getting it checked.”
“I can’t stand how everyone thinks they know me so well.”
“You’re rather consistent in your disdain for all things medical.”
“I want a full report ready for me on where we are with Olsen. Thanks to this blizzard that’s shut down the entire city and the busted ass, we can’t do much today, but I want a plan in place to hit it hard tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’ll call you later.”
“Good luck at GW. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I need my ass not to be broken so I can get back to work.”
“I’m not able to assist with that request.”
“Later.” She slapped the phone closed and fumed the rest of the way to the hospital. The drive took twenty minutes longer than it should have because DC was crippled by one inch of snow, let alone fourteen.
“Do you guys remember the back way in, Brant?” Sam asked.
“Yes, ma’am.”