Chasing the White Lion, James Hannibal [ebook reader macos .TXT] 📗

around her counter to give her the squeeze. “I didn’t know, honey. Your own boss? What have we come to?”

“But I did just as you said. I locked her up.”

“And for that, your coffee’s on the house.” Luanne pulled away and winked. “So is the ‘I told you so.’”

Brennan lowered his broad girth into a chair near Talia. He set a box of donuts on her desk, laid an old-school briefcase in his lap, and settled in to watch the show.

“Waiting for your new office?” she asked.

He chuckled, digging into the donuts. “Waiting for a new era to begin. A tough era. REED enjoyed success under Jordan, but at what cost? She made deals with more than one devil. She took an easy road.”

“And we’ll take the hard one?”

Brennan gestured at the parade of boxes with a sour cream glazed. “Starting with cleaning house. This isn’t over.” He took a bite, continuing as he chewed. “Jordan used to say a recruited agent or asset was the puppet, the case officer was the strings, and—”

“And the section chief was the puppeteer.” Talia casually slid the box away from him. “I remember. In this case, Bazin served as the strings for controlling Ivanov and Boyd.”

Brennan slid the donuts back to the edge. “But Bazin can’t be her only set of strings. Jordan had others, perhaps in this building. We’ll take our time unraveling the mess.”

He finished his sour cream glazed, picked up a Berliner, and turned to Talia, chair squeaking in protest. “Which brings me to another matter. Someone has to take over Other.”

He couldn’t be serious. “Don’t even think about it. I’m not ready for a desk job, especially that desk job.”

“Easy, tigress. That job belonged to me until a few hours ago.” He took another bite, jelly catching on his mustache. “But no, don’t worry. I had a different victim in mind.” Brennan glanced at the upper level of acrylic offices.

Trevor was up there, taking a seat at his premium-real-estate desk. The REED veteran seemed to feel their eyes tracking him and looked down. His hand went to his bow tie, straightening it. “What?”

“Nothing,” both Brennan and Talia said at once.

She lowered her voice. “Trevor?”

“He’s a homebody. Hates the field. But he’s dedicated. Chief of Other will be a step up for him.”

“In title only.”

The last security officer in the parade walked out of Jordan’s office, carrying the stickman and tightwire desk toy. The little man fell off as he closed the door. He didn’t notice, and kept on walking, leaving it lying on the floor.

Brennan heaved himself up from the chair and bent to recover the figure. “That’s my cue. One more thing. I’d like to take you and Gupta out to dinner tonight. An Armenian place. Fantastic blackened-pumpkin-noodle-something-or-other. Conrad turned me on to it.”

Talia didn’t trust the wicked cant of his mustache, jelly-stained or not. She sensed a practical joke. She couldn’t go anyway. “Rain check? Eddie and I have plans tonight. There’s something I need to do, and I need Eddie there for both moral and technical support.”

BILL AND WENDY FAILED to sufficiently hide their looks of absolute terror as they set the table for another meal with Talia’s crew. She had asked permission to bring them over again, along with Conrad.

“The police came to the house,” Wendy whispered to Talia when the two were alone in the kitchen. Talia caught Tyler glancing over from the living room. Wendy’s whispers had always been louder than she knew. “They said you were in trouble.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. There was a mix-up at work. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Tyler shot her a look that said, Don’t make promises you can’t keep.

She picked up a bread basket and followed Wendy into the dining room. “Well, I certainly hope it won’t happen again.”

Before the meal began, and after the prayer, Talia let her nervous parents off the hook. She rang her glass with a spoon, echoing the phrasing Bill had used a week earlier. “I have a presentation to make.” She pushed her chair back, hugging the red box. “I should have accepted this amazing gift the moment you offered.”

“So you will?” Wendy asked. “Accept, I mean.”

Talia nodded.

Wendy gasped and clasped her hands, beaming.

Relief brought color back to Bill’s cheeks. “We’re so glad. And we understand why you had to think about it. We sort of ambushed you.”

“Maybe, but it should have been a no-brainer.” Talia walked the box to the head of the table. On the way, without looking, she smacked a roll out of Mac’s hand. “I spent so many years spurning the love you showed me. I spurned God’s love in self-imposed isolation. But you”—she smiled at her parents and then turned to face the team, looking each of them in the eye—“all of you helped me learn to lean.” Her gaze fell on Val last. “You helped me realize we’re never alone in our struggles, even our failings.”

After embracing her parents and Jenni, Talia opened the box. On top of the adoption papers sat a special pen Franklin had engineered for the signing. Nothing technical, a mix of tungsten carbide and titanium. Strong and lasting. The engraving on the side read FAITHANDFAMILY.

Talia lifted the pen to sign, but Bill stopped her. “We . . . can’t actually sign here. My first presentation to you was symbolic. To make it legal, we have to go to a notary public.”

“Taken care of.” Talia snapped her fingers. “Eddie?”

The geek left his place at what he called the kids’ table and joined them, carrying a leather backpack. He drew out a stamp and a seal embosser and rubbed his hands. “Ready to rock.” At the question in Bill’s eyes, he shrugged. “What? I took an online course.” But as he bent to review the papers, he sneezed.

A big sneeze. The sneeze of a monster cold refusing to let go of its victim.

Talia pulled her mother clear of the spray. “Gross, Eddie.”

“You can’t say ‘gross’ when someone sneezes.” He dabbed