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“On ME?”
He nods.
“Why? What are you hoping to learn?”
The front door opens. I start to rise.
Then, I see him. A cloud of mixed and conflicting emotions bubbles up inside me. Tall and decisive, striding into my apartment with a regulation Bureau briefcase is Agent Blake Steele.
Smith turns in his seat. I stand.
Aware that I’m smiling, I ask Steele, “Is someone downstairs selling tickets? How did you get in?”
He smiles his thin FBI smile. “Ask me later.”
“Well, Agent Steele,” I open my hand, “this man’s badge says that he’s Agent Smith of the DEA.”
“I know. It’s why I’m here. Agent Smith, Ms. Carlisle is the subject of a Bureau investigation. I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave and not to question our witness without authorization.”
“Oh, you want a pissing contest, Agent Steele? We know about some of your questionable record…”
Steele smiles. this is a more combative smile. He has so many. “No need for any pissing, Agent Smith. The Bureau investigation predates the DEA’s.”
Smith’s smile stretches as his head cocks. “Ah, no, Agent Steele. The investigation into her mother…”
“Ms. Carlisle is only a secondary in that. A material witness, maybe, but not the subject.”
“Oh!” My voice is loud and higher velocity than I intend, “Why don’t you all just go on talking about me like that, while I’m right here!”
Smith says, “We’re not talking about you, Ms. Carlisle. We’re talking about cases. You happen to feature in a couple of them. That’s all.”
Steele snaps in, “Show some respect, Agent. We’re in Ms. Carlisle’s apartment. And she’s not a suspect in any investigations.”
My fists bunch. “You fucking asshole macho men with your antler locking bullshit. You can all be such idiots.”
“Excuse me, ma’am…”
“No, excuse me. Smith, do you have a warrant on you?”
“No, ma’am, I…”
“Then either fuck off and get one, or just fuck off.”
Before Smith and his Smith clones leave, he insists on giving me a card. I shrug and shut the door after him, then head back to the living area.
Shaking my head, I say, “Wolf and Steele, in Seattle. In my little apartment. Together.” Although I’m covering it as well as I can, I’m totally gooey-wet.
Chapter Five
Wolf says, “I was ready to stop them.”
“What,” Steele throws him a grin. “Did you pack some of your pea-shooters? It’s brave, Wolf, but you’re never going to win a shooting battle with the DEA.”
I cut in, “I don’t know, Blake. We beat them on Buckwheat Ridge.”
“That was guile and cunning more than any weapons.”
I smile, “Battles aren’t won by who fired the most shots, or even by who has the biggest guns.”
