“Oh, fuck you,” I said.
I pushed the door to shut it, but Thomas held it open.
“I told you if he bothered you to let me know.”
I crossed my arms. “He wasn’t bothering me. We had a nice night.”
His eyes flickered, and his brows pulled inward. He took a step toward me and kept his voice low as he said, “If you’re worried about how you’re perceived, you shouldn’t have let Sawyer spend the night.”
“Is there something you need?” I asked.
“What did he say to you? Did he discuss the case?”
“Why?”
“Just answer the questions, Lindy,” he said through his teeth.
“Yes, but I don’t think it’s anything he hasn’t said to you.”
“He wants to make Abby an asset.”
I nodded.
“And?” he asked.
I was surprised that he was asking me.
“Your brother won’t allow it. Besides, I don’t think she can be trusted. According to the file, she has helped her father numerous times despite their volatile relationship. She won’t turn him in, except maybe for Travis. We’d have to arrest him first though. Then, maybe she’d play.”
Thomas sighed, and I inwardly cursed myself for thinking aloud.
“You would have to arrest him,” Thomas said.
“What do you mean?”
Thomas nearly whispered, “It would blow my cover.”
“You’re not undercover. What the hell are you talking about?”
Thomas shifted his weight. “It’s hard to explain, and I won’t while I’m in the hall and while Sawyer is pretending to be asleep on your couch.”
I turned, and one of Sawyer’s eyes popped open.
He sat up, grinning. “To be fair, I was asleep until you knocked on the door. This couch is comfy, Lindy! Where did you get it?” he asked, pushing down on the cushions.
Thomas opened the door wider and pointed to the hall. “Out.”
“You can’t kick him out of my condo,” I said.
“Get the fuck out!” Thomas yelled, the veins in his throat bulging.
Sawyer stood up, stretched, and then grabbed his things off my long rectangular coffee table, his keys scraping against the glass as he did so. He stood between me and the doorjamb, just inches from my face. “See you Monday morning.”
“Thanks for the help,” I said, trying to sound apologetic while still remaining professional. It was an impossible balance.
Sawyer nodded to Thomas and then left us for the hallway. Once the elevator opened and then closed again, Thomas looked at me with a stern glare.
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, stop. You are trying too hard.”
I walked off, and Thomas followed me inside.
I retrieved the saltines from the cabinet and held them out. “Breakfast?”
Thomas seemed confused. “What?”
“I’m hungover. Crackers are for breakfast.”
“What do you mean, I’m trying too hard?”
I looked up at him. “You like me.”
“I…you’re okay, I guess,” he said, stumbling over his words.
“But you’re my boss, you don’t think we should date, so now you’re scaring away any interested parties.”
“That’s quite a theory,” he said.
I pulled apart the plastic package, put a stack of saltines on a plate, poured a glass of tepid water, and used the counter for a table. “Are you saying I’m wrong?”
“You’re not wrong. But you’re emotionally unavailable, remember? Maybe I’m just doing Sawyer a favor.”
The crackers crunched between my teeth, and the cotton mouth I was experiencing from too much alcohol became worse. I pushed the plate away and took a drink of water.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on Sawyer. He’s just being a team player. You’re trying to save your brother. This is important to you. For whatever reason, your family doesn’t know you’re a fed, and now, you’re forcing your brother to join the ranks. We all get it, but no need to piss on every idea your team brings you.”
“You know, Liis, your observations aren’t always correct. Sometimes, things go deeper than what you see on the surface.”
“The reasons leading to the origin of the problem aren’t always simple, but the solution always is.”
Thomas sat on the couch, looking distraught. “They don’t get it, Liis, and you definitely don’t get it.”
My tough shell melted at the sight of his tough shell melting. “I might if you explain it to me.”
He shook his head, rubbing his face with his hand. “She knew this would happen. That’s why she made him promise.”
“Who’s she? Camille?”
Thomas looked up at me, completely pulled out of his line of thought. “What the hell made you think of her?”
I walked the ten feet to the couch and sat next to him. “Are we going to work together on this or not?”
“We are.”
“Then, we have to trust each other. If something is between me and getting the job done, I remove whatever it is.”
“Like me?” he asked with a half smile.
I recalled our argument in the fitness room and wondered how I’d found the courage to tell the ASAC to get out of my way. “Thomas, you have to fix this.”
“What?”
“Whatever is messing with your head. Sawyer seems to think you’re too close to this case. Is he right?”