“Good morning.”
“Yeah, not so much.
We’ve got a case and a half today, so hurry up and bring everything we’ve got
on Allen Darrow up to my desk, now.” Jonathan Frakes gargled from his coffee
thermos as he stampeded through the office, bustling up the stairs and out of
sight without even looking at his intern agent. The hum of voices grew louder
as the other case agents poured in.
David Cassidy
frowned. He was a tall man with a slippery smile and an impeccable case record,
and he was growing tired of living in Frakes’ shadow simply because of
seniority complications. Irritated at his boss’s flippant manner, David
sauntered casually over to the records room. There. Allen Darrow’s file was thick
and worn, creased and coffee stained, indicative of hours spent staring at its pages.
David whistled, stepping up the stairs more quickly.
“Here you go.”
Jonathan said
nothing. He grunted gruffly and took the file, pursuing it like a hunter. “What
brought this up again?” David asked, swallowing. His boss looked up at him
finally, studying his under agent as he had studied the file: hunting. He
tapped the end of a ball point pen against his teeth.
“Grande mocha latte.
And you should see if Eboni wants something too. I think she likes you. Maybe
she’ll even give you a tip.” He turned back to the file, eyes scanning for
tidbits of information that hid beneath its bureaucratic face.
Burning with
resentment, David gritted his teeth and bowed out of the office. Downstairs, Eboni
White sat at her desk with six callers on the line and eighty tips being
reported at once. She smiled at him and mouthed, “Two seconds.” David nodded,
his thoughts still tumbling angrily in his head.
“Okay, thank you very
much. M’bye.” She clicked the receiver down and exclaimed cheerfully, “Good
morning, Mr. Cassidy. What can I do for you?”
“Actually, what can I
do for you? Jonathan’s sending me on a coffee run. Want anything?” He pulled a
notepad out of his breast pocket.
“Oh thanks, but no
thanks. I’m more of a tea drinker.”
“You’ll have to get
over that new girl. Everyone drinks coffee in the FBI.”
“Well, we’ll see.
Thanks for offering though. I wouldn’t think someone like you would do that
sort of thing.”
He cleared his
throat, trying to keep the edge from his voice. “No you wouldn’t, would you?”
Glancing at the clock, he added, “Okay, I’ll be back before the briefing. Call
me if McLaurin decides that he wants his frappe today.”
“Will do.” She
replied.
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