“Not since we saw him Friday, sir,” Talon replied, and Daniel shook his head when Gregory looked at him. What Daniel knew about Eli Stuart could be written on a postage stamp.
“I take it you don’t know where he is?” Talon asked.
Gregory huffed. “He’s downstairs waiting for me in interview room three.”
“What? But why?” Talon asked, obviously puzzled. “Why isn’t he with us?”
“Is this something to do with the Orlando case?” Daniel asked.
Gregory winced. “No. That particular mess is just an added bonus.”
“Then why isn’t Eli up here?” Talon said.
Gregory scrubbed a hand over his short hair. Daniel absently noted he had more gray than brown in his hair now and wondered if their last case involving his little brother had contributed to that. “Because I got an email from him at 7:00 a.m. this morning giving his notice.”
“He’s leaving?” Talon exclaimed. “But why?”
Daniel didn’t meet Gregory’s gaze. He knew. He knew exactly why Eli had quit. “This is because of me.”
Gregory shook his head. “I doubt if this is personal, Daniel.”
But it was. Daniel had recognized the same fear in Eli’s eyes when Gregory partnered them that he knew would be stark in his own. They were both what the other was trying to forget. Daniel had left Washington because he was trying to keep his sanity, but he had a feeling Eli’s memories were worse, personal. No, he knew they were, and he also knew that was why Eli had spent the last five weeks avoiding him every chance he got.
“Let me talk to him,” Talon urged. He glanced at Daniel. “I think he deserves to know about the case in Orlando.”
Gregory waved them out. “I haven’t officially accepted his resignation. Go talk to him and let me know.”
They both stood and left the office. “Talon?” Daniel started. “I don’t think this is a coincidence. Maybe I should let you do this on your own.”
Talon’s determined gaze fell on Daniel. “No, I don’t think so. Because I’m about to go tell Eli we need him for the case, and who is involved.”
Daniel’s eyes widened. Talon clearly knew something else.
“But if I’m to help Lin and Wright, there are conditions. After what Vance and Sam went through, no one from this team gets seconded on their own. If they want Eli, then they get all of us.”
Daniel followed Talon downstairs, wondering if Agent Lin might just be getting more than he bargained for.
It looked like Daniel certainly was.
Chapter Two
Eli fiddled with the cardboard rim on his coffee cup, wondering why he’d bothered buying it when he wouldn’t drink it, and gazed dispassionately at his ugly bitten fingernails. He was done. He’d known this whole thing was too good to be true from the start, and it was only because he’d been able to help Bo that he hadn’t quit sooner. He couldn’t do this. Couldn’t pretend he could make a difference anymore.
And whatever Gregory wanted him for was complete shit. He didn’t believe the line about him having to sign another disclosure before his resignation could be accepted, but he needed his last paycheck and couldn’t afford to give them any reason not to hand it over, so he was here. At least there was no bullshit about his notice having to be two weeks. One signature and he was gone, and they hadn’t asked him to go upstairs onto the team’s floor. He knew they were all up there and couldn’t bear to face them.
Sawyer would be the worst. He’d want to know why he hadn’t said anything to him.
Because I didn’t know myself?
Liar. He’d known the instant Gregory had told them, and he would have bet his last dime Daniel would have been partnered with Sawyer or Adam even, and then he could have put off the decision a little longer. But he felt like he’d been putting off the inevitable for over a year. He wasn’t even angry at Talon anymore. He’d hated first Finn, and then all the others that had split them up. Taken the nearest thing to family he ever had. Sawyer had even started hanging around Finn and unbent toward having regulars on the team.
He glanced at his phone and saw the missed messages from Sawyer and Finn, but he reread the one he’d had from Sawyer yesterday and another this morning. Apparently, the landlord wanted them out, but not just out in two weeks or at the end of the month. He wanted them gone immediately. Mr. Christianson had been admitted to the hospital on Thursday after a stroke. His son was officially taking over, and he’d turned up Sunday afternoon to view the property and basically said the block was unfit for renting and a fire hazard. His insurance wouldn’t cover things until he got the rewiring done and installed other measures. He’d given Sawyer a card for other properties in the area that had spaces and would transfer their lease, but Sawyer had spent a frustrating afternoon being told they were either too expensive or simply didn’t rent to enhanced because their property insurance wouldn’t cover them. It was bull, but they had no choice. Adam had said he had a couch, so Eli lied and told Sawyer he had something arranged, so he should take up Adam’s offer.
What he had arranged was getting the hell out of Tampa. It had been enough of a push to make him finally decide to go. Martin Landring had been confident he could get Eli’s “friend” a job if he moved to Gainesville. Martin didn’t know it was Eli himself who wanted it, but he wouldn’t mind, and more importantly he knew it was for an enhanced. He would tell the Landrings he was staying with friends or else they’d insist he stayed with them, and he couldn’t do that. He could easily sleep in his car until he got his first paycheck. He needed a new ride, or at least new tires desperately, and his last bureau check would cover those and a cheap motel for a couple of weeks.
He looked up as the door opened, expecting to see someone from human resources. Maybe he could go out with a bang and terrify Jake, Jared, or whatever the fuck he was called. He always squeaked when he saw Eli, like some sort of kids’ toy you’d trodden on.
He wasn’t even surprised when Talon walked in. He should have known he wasn’t going to get away that easily, but what caused his breath to catch was the man that followed him. Eli catalogued the weary expression in the same brown eyes all the Connellys had. Not the same red hair though as Vance—at least he’d escaped that. He had blond streaks in the brown that was now liberally mixed with gray. Eli didn’t know exactly how old Daniel was. He knew he was the next in age to Vance and that the two were close, but that made him what? Thirty-three, four? He looked a good ten years older, and for a second he wondered if he’d been sick, but then he dismissed it because Talon couldn’t take anyone on that couldn’t keep up with the team.
Maybe he was just sick of life. A bit like him.
“I’m not gonna change my mind.” Eli stood, talking to Talon but still looking at Daniel, and for a second he couldn’t quite name the emotion that darkened Daniel’s eyes. Anger almost, but that made no sense. If he was out of the running, Daniel would just get partnered with Sawyer or Adam. They’d probably all be a lot happier.
“This isn’t about you quitting,” Talon said and pushed the door shut with his foot and leaned against it, arms folded.