Stolen Child (Coastal Fury Book 13), Matt Lincoln [ebooks children's books free TXT] 📗

Diane sighed. “I’ll fight it, but Scotland is understandably concerned. They’ve had mob problems for God knows how long, and they don’t want to add a major international drug operation on top of it all.”

“I… I…” I stammered, not sure what to say. “Surely they can’t think cutting us out will help matters.”

“No, they don’t,” Diane said, shaking her head. “They understand that our agencies have done a lot of the legwork here, and when push comes to shove, the Hollands—or whatever their real names are—will most likely be extradited to the United States to stand trial.”

“Most likely?” Muñoz interjected. “You mean there’s a chance that they won’t be?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said again, staring at Holm and shaking my head. He looked back at me with the same shocked expression on his face that was no doubt on mine.

“Look, it depends on what Scotland finds out about what the Hollands are doing there if it’s the Hollands at all,” Diane explained.

“There’s no way it’s not them!” Birn argued. “You heard that description and what they’re doing. There’s just no damned way!”

“I don’t disagree,” Diane said, pursing her lips. “But either way, if Scotland wants to try the Hollands for some major transgression there before extraditing them here, that would be their right. It just depends on where all the chips fall with this one, and we just can’t see that far ahead yet, no matter how much we’d like to.”

Her mouth was set in a thin line now, and I could tell that she didn’t like this any more than we did. That was some consolation, at least. I knew she would be fighting for us all the way through this mess.

“Look, you have to just send us out there to observe,” I argue, trying to sound measured and understanding, though it was difficult. “Just Holm and me. Or even just me. We could help them work the case, track these people down. We’ve been working this for the better part of the year! Our insight and experience could be invaluable to them.”

“I don’t disagree with that, either,” Diane assured me, giving me a small smile. “But don’t underestimate Interpol. Those guys know their stuff. If they really need us, they’ll call for us. Until then, we just have to sit tight and keep following other leads as they come up.”

“Other leads?” Muñoz repeated, true to form and aghast. “What other leads? We know where they are now, don’t we?”

“Not for certain yet,” Diane said patiently. “We can’t abandon other leads just because we have a good one. Great one, even. Additionally, there’s more to be learned about these people. Prioritize your work on the Hollands’ background for now. The more we know about them, the better.”

“Come on,” I argued, at a loss as I shook my head at her. “You’ve got to at least try to get us over there. We’ll be a help to them, even if they don’t believe it yet.”

“Believe me. I tried,” Diane said wanly. “But they’re not having it, not yet. They’re wary of too many people crowding around the case and freaking the Hollands out. And they do have a point. For all we know, they could still be keeping tabs on us.”

This was a valid enough concern, I had to admit. The second Holm and I got on a plane to Scotland, someone might tip off the Hollands. Still, I wanted to go so badly. It was killing me to be so close, yet still so far, from catching these people and maybe even finding the Dragon’s Rogue.

“Don’t worry,” Diane told me kindly, no doubt seeing my conflicted emotions on my face. “We’ll still be involved, and there’ll be hell to pay if they try to steal the whole case from us. I promise you that. In the meantime, we still have work to do.”

4

Ethan

Tensions were predictably high in the office after Diane told us about her call with the guy from Interpol. No one was happy with what we’d just been told, and I was starting to feel more claustrophobic than ever, between all the stacks of files, the phones ringing off the hook with new tips, almost all of them no doubt dead ends, and the FBI agents all chattering amongst themselves in disdainful tones about what was going on.

“I knew this was going to go sour,” I heard Agent Smith mutter bitterly after Diane had returned to take refuge in her office. “We never should’ve let them take the lead on this case.”

“It’s not like we had a say,” another particularly unfriendly man named Forrester added. “None of us wanted to come here in the first place.”

“Well, we should’ve fought harder,” Smith said, giving Dobbs and Corey a pointed look as if he didn’t think they had quite risen to the occasion.

“Hey, I fought just fine,” another guy named Hunt said. “So did he.” He gestured to his partner, a plain-looking guy with a permanent scowl named Barnes.

Barnes nodded in agreement and turned his unpleasant expression on Dobbs and Corey.

Holm and I exchanged a bemused look. They were really talking about this right in front of us, emboldened by the bad news and Diane’s newfound absence and distraction.

“Shut up,” Dobbs hissed, glancing over at us quickly and averting his eyes the second he saw that I was watching him. “They can hear you.”

“We’re supposed to play nice, remember?” Corey added.

I heard a snickering sound behind me and knew that Muñoz must have been listening, too. She was no doubt wondering how these guys possibly thought they’d been playing nice up until this point.

From the second the FBI agents had arrived, they’d been relentless in their disdain for us. It had started out more brazen, with the coffee spilling and constant jabs at Holm, Birn, and Muñoz during the manhunt for the Hollands’ hitman. Once I arrived on the scene, things grew more subtle, however, in response to more than a few good talkings-to from