Page 12 of Defender
“No. That’s not the end of your story.” Felicity sat up straight and leaned forward.
“Huh?”
“Come on, Dani. This is your shot. You’re a kick-butt federal agent. You started a whole new career and worked hard to get where you are now. Go home. Show Michael, show the Bureau, what you’re capable of now.”
“Show them what? That now my catastrophes have federal implications? I was fooling mys?—”
“It was your first sting.” Felicity shook her head. “Shake it off. You don’t get through flippin’ Quantico if you’re not top of your game. You’re one of the toughest and smartest women I know. You try to hide it, but you can’t. So go show them in Renegade. Take the biggest, hardest case they have and solve it. Work at it until they see what you can do.”
What was it Macy had said earlier?
When you botch it—because everyone does—be the kind of agent who admits her mistakes, learns, gets up, and tries again.
“I don’t know.” Dani stared at her family picture from last Christmas. Her mother would be thrilled to have her back. She could see her brother, his wife, and her nephews happy for her. But no one even knew that she was in the FBI. What would they say?
“Come on, Dani. So you messed up. It doesn’t mean you have to give up. I know you can do this. Show everyone that you’re not that girl anymore. Prove to the Renegade office you can operate in any of the big cities.”
She had gotten top marks in most of her classes at Quantico. So maybe it wasn’t completely unheard of. “So…I solve a big case, prove I’ve got what it takes, and then maybe they’ll reassign me?”
“Exactly.” Felicity nodded. Paused. “Although, if you run into the hot cop again…maybe you’ll want to stick around.”
“Negative. I don’t belong in Renegade. I want to fight real crime, you know? Go undercover. It’s what I trained for. But I think you’re right. I just have to prove myself.”
“Yes! You can do this. Put in your time, and before you know it, you’ll be heading to New York or Miami like you wanted.”
Dani caught the vision and ran with it.
She could do this. The work part of it, anyway. Having to live in the same city as her father though? That was another matter. And as long as she avoided Michael too, she’d be great. Because if she was going to do this, she couldn’t be distracted by anything—not trying to please her father, and especially not falling back into the arms of an old crush.
Three
Two weeks later
Another day, another crime scene. Michael looked around at the mess of the cramped dry cleaner/laundromat’s lobby and stood the tipped-over garbage can back in its place. It was one small thing he could make right, even if nothing else about the scene made sense.
Like they needed any more open cases and unanswered questions. The only necklace they’d recovered from the mall burglary two weeks ago was the one Stitch found, and there was still no sign of Gary Donner. The blood-test results weren’t back yet either. Even the surveillance video had been a bust, conveniently cutting out before the break-in.
“What do you think?” Finn closed his notebook and walked over, his feet crunching on broken glass from the front window.
“I dunno. A dry cleaner’s business is a weird place to vandalize. Doesn’t even look like they took anything. Just busted the display window in the laundromat portion.”
“Yeah.” Finn dropped his voice. “And if the owner knows anything, she’s not speaking up. Makes me think she’s got an idea of who did this or why.”
The petite woman with gray hair only spoke broken English. She stared at them from the other side of the small waiting area for a moment and then grabbed a broom from behind the counter.
“You get anything out of her?” Michael asked.
“Just that her name’s Mrs. Barbu, she didn’t see anything, and she needs to wait for her daughter to help translate.” Finn studied the room. “But being such a small place, I have a hard time believing she didn’t see the car or the people responsible. Doesn’t make a ton of sense to bust a window in the middle of the day. What were they going to steal? Laundry?”
Desperate people didn’t always follow logic. Look at his own mother’s case.
Outside, another South Eagle police vehicle pulled up. Great. Detectives Ives and Morozov arrived.
Morozov’s mustache twitched as he surveyed the room. He was known around the station as gruff and liked to throw his weight around, but he also closed cases. Still, Michael always felt a little sorry that Rebeccah Ives, the newest to make detective, had to be stuck with him as a partner.
“Any witnesses?” Morozov didn’t even bother to look at Michael as he walked past.
“The owner there says she was in the back when it happened. Says she doesn’t know anything, but we’re waiting for her daughter to arrive and help translate.”
