He'd thought about it all night; as a rule, he made it a point to not get involved in the emotional tangles of office relationships. But something about this just wouldn't let him rest, so he dialed his cell as he drove in to work.
"Dennis? It's Myles Leland. No, it's not time for our quarterly stand-off on the golf course. I have a favor to ask you. Do you know where I might be able to pick up a pair of ear molds on short notice? The kind musicians use." He listened for a moment. "You do? Wonderful. I can pick them up on my lunch hour. No, that's fine, just leave them with the receptionist. Thank you. I'll explain to you next time we're stuck on the front nine. Goodbye."
He smiled as he hung up, leaning back in the seat. There are times when the fact that all doctors play golf at some point in their lives comes in very handy.
Jack Hudson walked back into the Bullpen after lunch. The office was busy, but quiet. No "impending doom" cases were on their docket, so everyone was back to the more mundane fraud, civil rights, and environmental cases that took up ninety percent of every agent's time.
He leaned on the doorway for a moment, surveying his team with a sense of pride. Bobby and Lucy were tracking down bank records for a money-laundering operation, Dimitrius was plowing through EPA reports, and Tara was down at the shooting range for her quarterly re-qualification.
Myles and Sue were talking together at his desk, no doubt about the investment fraud case he'd teamed them up for yesterday morning. The Harvard grad was leaning back in his chair, and Sue was perched on the corner of the desk. Jack was glad that things had finally smoothed out between the two of them.
Suddenly, something caught Jack's attention, and the dark eyes narrowed. Is it just me, or did he just sign something to her? He couldn't see the blond agent's hands well enough to tell for sure. He knew they'd gone to see Evelyn Glennie last night; Myles had requested the evening off weeks ago, and Jack knew, from the nursing home case, that Glennie was a personal hero of Sue's.
How that all had added up to an evening out was something he hadn't quite figured out yet, but if it made for a calmer workplace, he was all for it. Must have been an interesting evening, though. He chuckled to himself, pulling out of his thoughts. I wonder if they were able to carry on a civil conversation for that long. Well, time to get back to work.
He walked over to his desk and stopped short; on the dark surface was a small beige case. Beneath it, on a sticky note, were three words in very familiar bold handwriting.
Walk a mile.