Page 62 of In The Trenches (Owens Protective Services)

“Dash, this is Beth. She’s going to be working for us.”

His brows furrowed as he looked from me and then back to her. “Um…”

“Beth, can you wait out here for a minute? I just need to talk with Dash about a job. I’ll only be a minute.”

She must have caught on to the tension, but she nodded and took a seat in the lobby. I walked into my office followed by Dash, who shut the door before he laid into me.

“What the fuck are you doing, boss? You suspect her of working with terrorists, so you brought her back to the home base?”

“You know what they say,Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“Sure, when you’re talking about high school friends. This…this is bigger than any high school bullshit. You don’t bring a suspected terrorist into the fold just because she has a nice ass.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t realize you were watching her ass.”

“I was. I mean, I wasn’t, but it was there.”

“Yes, it was there, along with the rest of her body. Are you going to be able to function around her?”

“Me?” His eyebrows shot up. “You’re the one that knows this chick.”

“Yes,” I admitted, then pulled Betty out of my pocket and set her on the tiny pedestal on my desk.

“Oh shit,” Dash muttered. “Boss, tell me you’re not doing it.”

“You know exactly what I’m doing. We have a suspected terrorist out in the lobby, and there’s no way I’m letting her walk out of here until I have answers.”

“You don’t even know if she’s actually involved.”

“You’ve seen the tapes,” I argued. “You saw who she was with.”

“But she didn’t leave with them. They parted ways.”

“And all that proves is that the job was over.”

“Then let me talk to her,” he said quickly.

“Not a chance in hell. This one’s mine.”

The door swung open and Lock strolled in. “Who’s the chick in the lobby?” he asked, shutting the door behind him.

“A suspected terrorist,” I answered, ready to get this show on the road.

“She was caught on video leaving the research facility,” Dash filled him in.

“Oh, that chick. So, what’s she doing here?”

Dash sighed. “He put Betty on the pedestal.”

Lock’s face dropped. “Oh fuck. The pedestal? Really, boss?”

“I’m just doing what I have to do.”

“You don’t have to do this. She doesn’t deserve to be interrogated unless you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“You’ve known her all of five seconds,” Dash pointed out. “Can’t you try the easier route?”

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