Chapter Twelve
PATSY
We’d been out on a training exercise and were just coming back when I’d felt the vibration of my mobile.
Normally I’d leave it but a sixth sense made me check it.
Seeing Wes’ name on my screen, I’d gotten a lump in my throat.
The sexy man always gave me butterflies.
I’d been smiling when I’d answered the phone but the second I’d heard the desperation in his voice and how scared he sounded, the butterflies had turned to fear.
I’d relayed what was going on to Mickey, who’d contacted Candy. He’d been reluctant to give permission to divert but he had.
I expected to get hauled over the coals for it and read the riot act. I’d felt a wee bit bad because I’d dropped Mars in it. But thank God we had him in command of the aircraft. He was our team’s chopper pilot and there were no questions asked—he just did it.
Thanks be to the saints; we were already in the air and close by.
I’d put Wes on speaker as we’d raced to the roof and had him stay on the line with me as Mickey dealt with logistics. I’d ignored most of their conversation as I tried to stay calm and say a few, Hail Mary’s, in my head.
At a minute out, seeing Wes hunkered down behind the AC unit through the high-powered binoculars when the three men had stepped out onto the roof, had been bloody terrifying.
I’d held my breath, calling up all the saints, until one of the men had pointed at the chopper, said something to his mates, and run back to the rooftop door. Only then did I exhale.
I held onto Wes as Mickey rappelled down behind me, disconnecting his line right after mine.
He was waving Mars and Rex away as I pulled Wes into my arms. Mars would find the closest spot to set down, then be back with whoever else was available on my team.
I had a feeling they were either already on the way or soon would be.
“What happened?” I asked when Wes finally turned me loose.
He’d just opened his mouth to reply when two uniformed LAPD officers burst through the rooftop door, guns drawn.
Mickey held up his cred wallet and waved it around.
God knows why. Both of us were in full FBI tactical gear, but you never knew these days how people would react if they got into a wee bit of a panic.
“FBI!” he called out as they approached. They looked him over, slowly lowered their weapons, and then turned their attention to me.
“Also FBI!” I shouted as Wes pulled out of my arms. I slowly took out my creds and showed them to the two officers before they relaxed and reholstered their weapons.
“What’s going on?” one of them asked. “We got a 911 call from the security guard downstairs.”
“Can we take this down to the lobby?” I asked. I didn’t have time to explain everything but I wanted them to put out an all-points bulletin for the three men and the car Wes described. They’d radioed that in, and the five of us made the trek downstairs where they took Wes’ statement.
Two other unis were talking to the security guard, and seven minutes later, Mars pulled the BearCat up outside with Candy and the others.
I sighed with relief as my brothers came in wearing tactical gear. Candy wore a thunderous expression as he stopped in front of us.
“Sláinte, Captain,” I said and winced. I wasn’t sure, “Cheers,” was going to cover it.
“Good,” he said, frowning at me. “You couldn’t relay this to me personally about diverting the chopper, wasting government resources, taking trained and expensive personnel with you?”
“I had Wes on the phone, so I left that to Milky, sir.”
“It was my fault, Captain,” Wes said.
“Your fault?” Candy looked him over, and I realized the two hadn’t met.
“Captain Sorensen, this is Weston Chaudry. Wes, this is my boss.” Candy shook Wes’ hand when he held it out.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Chaudry. Would you tell me what happened?”
The lobby’s double doors swished open then, and I was almost relieved to see Cassidy and Mike come in.
They ignored us and went to speak with the two officers we’d been talking to.
We all watched as they nodded to the unis and then came walking over.
“Hey, guys,” Cassidy said, shaking our hands. “Mr. Chaudry.”
“Did someone call ya, Cassidy?” I asked.
“I did,” Candy said. “Once Mickey told us what was going on, I thought it was important that they talk with Mr. Chaudry while everything is fresh in his mind.”
I flinched at the unspoken reproach in my boss’ voice.
“And we really appreciate that, Captain,” Cassidy said. He and Mike turned to Wes. “Can you tell us what happened, Mr. Chaudry?”
I glanced at Wes to see him looking in my direction. “It’s okay, tell them,” I reassured him. “Ya did nothing wrong, Wes.”
“Okay, but—” He glanced around before looking back at me. “I just gave those two officers my statement.”
Candy looked at Cassidy and Mike. “Why don’t we all go to our office at the federal building and talk there?
At least we’ll have some privacy rather than talking about everything in front of the employees.
” He nodded in the direction of the security guard who was openly eavesdropping on our conversation now that he’d finished giving his statement to the patrol officers.
“That’s a good idea,” Mike said. “We’ll meet you there in say—” He consulted his watch. “Half an hour?”
Candy gave him a sharp nod. “That’d be fine. Thanks, guys.”
I watched the retreating backs of Cass and Mike and looked back at Wes. “Come on. Ya can ride back with us, ya can.”
When Wes saw the huge tactical vehicle parked at the curb, he turned to me with wide eyes. “In that?”
I laughed. “It’s called a BearCat and it’s very comfortable. Come on with ya.”
We all climbed into the back of the BearCat with Candy riding shotgun and Mars in the driver’s seat.
I introduced my team to Wes, and he was greeted with friendly handshakes and hellos from everyone.
I recognized the curiosity in their eyes as they noticed my hand resting on Wes’ thigh as the BearCat wound its way through traffic from Hollywood to our office in West L.A.
They weren’t stupid men. Every one of them could sense that I’d formed a close bond with Wes but were too polite to mention it. When it grew quiet, Wes turned to me.
“I need to call Rami and Raj. I ran out of there chasing that guy so fast, they must be wondering what the hell happened to me.”
When I nodded, he pulled out his mobile and called them, telling them not to worry and promising to call them later.
I squeezed his hand. “Did ya eat? It’s goin’ to be a long afternoon.”
He smiled. “I took steaks out of the freezer because I planned on cooking dinner for you.”
I cleared my throat and darted my gaze around the inside of the truck.
Everyone was silent, pretending to do anything other than what they were doing…
listening to every word of our conversation.
I glanced back at Wes. “We won’t be home until long after teatime.
We’ll order a takeaway when we get back to the office. ”
“Indian, I say!” Almond said.
I grinned at Alain. “All you English ever want to eat is Indian.”
“Totally untrue, old man. Sometimes we like kippers and porridge,” he replied in his plummy drawl.
“Gross,” Twizz said, looking horrified.
I laughed as Rex spoke up next. “I love a good matar paneer,” the Texan said. We all got a good giggle out of that.
Rex was a master on the grill as well as everything else food related, although I couldn’t imagine him eating vegetarian.
But there was no doubt in my mind that he’d master Indian cooking if he tried.
I often took the mickey out of him, telling him that if he’d been a chuckwagon cook on some Texas ranch, he’d call all the cowboys to his backyard, a spin on the old Kelis song. He took the teasing well enough.
We walked into the federal building at the same time Cassidy and Mike did.
Candy shepherded us into our briefing room and everyone but Mickey took seats while he went out to put in a takeaway order.
He came back in a few minutes later, taking a seat and announcing, “Pizza, wings, and antipasto salad…on its way.”
He walked to the front and taped a copy of the police artist’s sketch of Wes to the whiteboard. “If any of you haven’t already seen this sketch, I wanted to show it to you and bring us all up to speed.” He looked at Wes. “Would you tell us what happened this afternoon?”
Cassidy held up a finger as he pulled out a mobile phone and set it on the table. “I’m going to record this so that it acts as your statement, Mr. Chaudry. Do you have an objection to that?”
Wes shook his head emphatically. “No. I have nothing to hide.”
Cassidy nodded. “Good.” He tapped a button.
“This is Detective Cassidy Ryan and I’m here at the federal building in Los Angeles with my partner, Detective Mike Williams. It’s 4:18 p.m. February Fifteenth, 2026.
Also with us is Weston Chaudry, and Captain Candy Sorensen from the FBI along with the rest of his Tac Team. ” He reeled off all our names.
“Mr. Chaudry, will you tell us what happened?”
“Okay, after Patsy left for the office this morning—”
Candy cleared his throat. “I should mention that Mr. Chaudry has been staying with Patsy for the last few days.”
I gave Wes an encouraging smile. “Go on, tell us what happened,” I said.