Instead of retreating to my cubicle, I went into the hall and poked around until I found Val. She was in Agent Marks’s office.
“Can I speak with you for a minute?” I asked.
She looked at Marks and then stood. “Sure.”
She shut the door behind her, biting her lip.
“Sorry to interrupt.”
She made a face. “He’s been chasing me for six months. Now that Trex is out of the way, he is under the misapprehension that he has a chance.”
My face compressed. “Did I transfer to a singles bar?” I shook my head. “Don’t answer that. I need a favor.”
“Already?”
“Where does Maddox frequent around lunchtime? Does he have a favorite eatery? Does he stay here?”
“The fitness room. He’s there every day at this time.”
“That’s right. You’ve mentioned that. Thanks,” I said.
She called after me, “He hates being interrupted! As in, his soul hates being interrupted!”
“He hates everything,” I grumbled under my breath, pressing the button for the elevator.
I went down two levels and then took the skywalk to the west offices.
The newly built San Diego office was comprised of three large buildings, and it would likely be a maze to me for a week or two at least. It was a stroke of luck that Val had shown me the way to the fitness room the day before.
The closer I came to the fitness room, the faster I walked. I held my badge against the black square protruding from the wall. After a beep and the sound of the lock opening, I pulled open the door to see Maddox’s feet dangling in the air, his face red and glistening with perspiration, while he bobbed quickly on a chin-up bar. He barely acknowledged me, still carrying on with his workout.
“We need to talk,” I said, holding up my report, which was now crinkled from my grip. That made me even angrier.
He let go of the bar, his sneakers landing on the floor with a thud. He was breathing hard, and he used the collar of his heather-gray FBI T-shirt to wipe the dripping sweat from his face. The bottom hem pulled up, revealing just a sliver of his perfectly cut lower abs and one side of the V that I had fantasized about at least a dozen times since the first time I’d seen it.
His answer brought me back to the present. “Get out.”
“This is for all employees of the facility, is it not?”
“Not between eleven and noon.”
“Says who?”
“Me.” His jaw flitted under his skin, and then he eyed the papers in my hand. “Did you rework that FD-three-oh-two?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No,” I seethed. “The transcription and translation are accurate, and the FD-three-oh-two, like I’ve said, is thorough.”
“You’re incorrect,” he said, glaring down at me.
Behind the irritation was something else although I couldn’t quite decipher it.
“Can you explain to me what is missing?” I asked.
Maddox walked away from me, the fabric under both of his arms and his lower back dark with perspiration.
“Excuse me, sir, but I asked you a question.”
He flipped around. “You don’t come to me, asking questions. You take orders, and I told you to modify that report to my satisfaction.”
“How exactly would you like me to do that, sir?”
He laughed once, unamused. “Did your superior do your job for you in Chicago? Because in—”
“I’m in San Diego. I know.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you insubordinate, Agent Lindy? Is that why you were sent here—to be under my command?”
“You requested me, remember?”
His expression was still one I couldn’t read, and it was driving me mad.
“I didn’t request you,” he said. “I requested the best language expert we had.”
“That would be me, sir.”
“Forgive me, Agent Lindy, but after reading that report, I’m having a hard time believing you’re as good as you think you are.”
“I can’t give you intelligence that isn’t there. Maybe you should tell me what you want to hear from that Title Three.”
“Are you suggesting that I’m asking you to lie in your report?”
“No, sir. I am suggesting you tell me what you expect of me.”
“I want you to do your job.”
I clenched my teeth, trying to keep my Irish side from getting me fired. “I would love to accomplish my responsibilities, sir, and do it to your satisfaction. What about my report do you find lacking?”
“All of it.”
“That’s unhelpful.”
“Too bad,” he said in a smug tone, walking away again.
My patience had run out. “How in the hell did you get promoted to ASAC?”
He stopped and turned on his heels, leaning down a bit, looking incredulous. “What did you say?”
“Forgive me, sir, but you heard me.”
“This is day two for you, Agent Lindy. You think you can—”
“And it very well be my last after this, but I’m here to do a job, and you’re in my way.”
Maddox eyed me for the longest time. “You think you could do better?”
“You’re damn right I could.”
“Great. You’re now the supervisor of Squad Five. Give your report to Constance to digitize and then get your shit in your office.”