“I don’t blame him,” was al Eric said but his point was made. While she was with him, Eric wouldn’t let Stel a see the papers.

“You get more –” Lee started and as much as Eric hated it, he interrupted.

“I’l cal .”

He beeped off his phone, set it on the end table, went to check the house alarm, looked out the window in the door to check for the car on the street, two houses down, two agents sitting inside. Spotting the car, he got his gun, put that on the end table too, grabbed a blanket, yanked off his boots, lay down on the couch and finished watching the movie.

Chapter Sixteen

Squirtable Cheese

Hank

The next morning, Hank and Mace walked into Lee’s office. Lee was sitting on the front edge of his desk, his head bent toward a file in his hand. It came up when they entered. He closed the folder and dropped the file on his desk.

“What did George say?” Lee asked.

George Riverside was a prosecuting attorney. Hank, Eddie and Mace had a meeting with him that morning to discuss the Sidney Carter case. Primarily, the discussion centered around if it was strong enough to arrest him.

“He says we don’t have enough,” Hank replied and Lee’s eyes narrowed.

“You are f**kin’ shittin’ me,” Lee muttered.

Hank shook his head.

George Riverside was a good attorney. He was also ambitious. He knew the Sidney Carter case would make headlines. It could even make careers. George liked headlines and he had big ideas about his career. He wanted people to remember his name, especial y come election day.

He also liked to win cases.

What he didn’t like was headlines about cases he didn’t win. Even though Hank, Eddie and Mace had a tight case, George was being cautious with Carter. He wanted the case locked down, a sure thing, which was impossible.

That kind of sure thing didn’t exist. It was not only impossible, it was f**king frustrating.

“Eddie get anything out of the shooter?” Lee asked as Hank stopped at the side of the desk.

Lee was referring to the man who shot at Stel a and Mace Saturday night.

Mace moved to a chair in front of the desk, sat down, putting his ankle on his opposite knee.

“Nope, shooter’s closed tight,” Mace replied.

Hank watched as Lee shook his head in surprise and he knew why.

Eddie was known to be particularly good in the interrogation room.

Hank had watched, though, and Eddie got nothing.

Hank also knew why that was.

The shooter was on a semi-suicide mission. He didn’t expect to get away with shooting Stel a in a crowded club.

He expected to get the job done but get caught and then get rewarded. Likely, Carter made a deal and was doing good deeds for the shooter’s family. It was Carter’s MO. He bought al egiance, one way or another, and paid wel for it.

So wel , the chain was buried under money so deep, no one along the line was wil ing to break it.

On this thought, Hank took in Mace. Even after yesterday and their bad news from George this morning, Mace looked calm and relaxed. Hank had known Mace long enough to know Mace was neither calm nor relaxed. His body, even at rest, was alert, his eyes were stone cold.

Hank knew why this was too. Hank knew about Mace’s sister, Lee had told him about it in detail, including the fact that Mace was incorrectly shouldering the responsibility for what happened in the end game. Hank also knew that Stel a didn’t know about it. Mace had told the team he wanted it to remain that way until he was ready to share.

Final y, Hank knew that any conversation Stel a had with Preston Mason was likely to reveal that information.

Fol owing this thread, Hank could only assume that Stel a’s actions after her conversation with Mace’s father were an indictment. Or, at least, Mace thought they were.

“I’ve lost patience with this shit,” Lee said, cutting into Hank’s thoughts. “We’re gonna have to dismantle Carter’s army.”

It was Hank’s turn to shake his head.

“Lee –” he started.

Lee turned to his brother. “I’m gettin’ married on Saturday, Hank. I don’t think Indy’l like walkin’ down the aisle wearin’ a flak jacket and a helmet.” No, Lee was right, Indy wouldn’t like that. She’d have a shit fit.

“Maybe you can postpone the wedding,” Hank suggested.

Lee’s eyes went hard. “I’m not postponing my f**king wedding.”

Hank watched his brother.

Strike that idea, he thought.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be here for the rest of this conversation,” Mace put in, gaze on Hank.

Hank’s body went tight and his eyes cut to Mace. “I didn’t give over a year of my life to this investigation to have you guys f**k it up when we’re this close.” Both Lee and Mace tensed but Hank ignored it and went on, “You boys aren’t goin’ commando and screwin’ the pooch. It’s not gonna happen.”

“Hank –” Lee started and Hank moved his gaze to Lee.

“It’s not gonna happen,” Hank repeated. “We play it by the book.”

Hank knew his brother didn’t like playing by the book. In fact, it was half a miracle Hank had managed to keep them clean this long. Mainly because not only did Lee not play by the book, Kai Mason had made an art of pissing al over the f**king book.

“We’re close,” Hank reminded them. “And we’ve been clean so far. Don’t f**k it up.”

“The girls –” Lee began but Hank interrupted him again.

“I know what’s at stake, Lee,” he said quietly. “But Carter goes down, he’s gotta stay down. This isn’t under radar.

We got reporters watching our every move now. You know it and I know it. We gotta play it by the book.” Lee looked at Hank.

Hank returned his stare.

Lee’s eyes flashed angrily and Hank knew he had him.

He also knew Lee didn’t like it. Lastly, he knew he’d only bought some time. They didn’t bring Carter down soon, Lee, Mace and Lee’s men were going to toss the book out the window.

“Fuck,” Lee muttered, giving in as Mace’s phone rang.

Hank watched Mace fish his phone out his pocket and look at the display. Whatever it said, Mace didn’t like reading it.

He flipped open his phone and clipped, “Yeah?” as a knock came at the door.

Lee cal ed out a terse invitation to enter as Mace said,

“Fortnum’s. In an hour,” then flipped his phone shut and shoved it back in his pocket, mouth tight, body tense.