“Gavin, you got a minute?”
Glancing up from his desk, Gavin greeted him with a curt nod of the head and waved for him to enter.
“Good morning, Spike,” Gavin greeted him without looking as he turned his attention back to the form in front of him and signed it with a flourish.
“‘Mornin.’” William emerged from behind the door but opted to remain on the threshold.
Gavin set his pen aside. “What can I do for you?”
With an air of studied casualness, William leaned on one arm against the doorframe. “Wonderin’ where you are with Winters these days?”
Gavin raised his brows. “Ah yes, your indefatigable interest in the elusive Mr. Winters. Well, I’m happy to say we’re making progress. As I told you last week, his position is that he was merely an investor in Mr. Holtz’s cash-checking company. It turns out he was testing the waters, so to speak, for an aggressive push into alternative banking.”
“Is that what they call it,” William muttered under his breath.
“He expressed shock over the reported death of his business partner.”
“I’ll bet he did. Did he explain how they met? There’s no way Holtz gets a legitimate meeting with a man like Winters, let alone a start-up fund,” William argued, fully awake now and firing on all cylinders.
Gavin’s hand came up to stroke his square jaw slowly. “He sought to remain under the radar with this project. The franchise promised profit, but it would certainly not enhance the image of a man who developed the Highland complex.”
“To be frank, I don’t understand the lackadaisical attitude. The man’s selling you a pig in a poke.”
Gavin’s tone hardened. “I am not going to get distracted by a wild goose chase for your white whale, Spike. I am not interested in his illusory connections to Marcus Hamilton. At this time, I am not even interested in the whereabouts of Mr. Hamilton. My priority is the supply chain.” Taking a breath, his regained his composure. “But, in our interview with Mr. Winters he did acknowledge the three contract registration violations the police identified. Lilah and I expect him to pay the fines and plead it out. From there we will ascertain if further avenues into—shall we say—less transparent activities present themselves.”
William shook his head adamantly. “It’s never gonna work, going after him piecemeal like that. Tried that once before. We need to find a better angle.”
“We? There is no we, Spike. My staff is pursuing the case under my direction.”
William frowned at the brush-off Gavin was delivering to him in his characteristically condescending manner. As always, his colleague’s territorial posturing got his hackles up. The man had always seemed way too slick to him for a state attorney. His understated but intensely competitive nature also seemed a better fit for a cutthroat corporate environment rather than a government outfit, however tenuous its cooperative ethos might actually be.
He warned Gavin, “Winters’s willingness to come halfway clean can inspire false confidence. Truth is, the man just likes to bait you. But he weasels out of everything on technicalities and loopholes. Better not to tip your hand to him at all.”
“Excuse me, but in not one but two attempts you failed to procure even an indictment against him,” Gavin cut in crisply. “Isn’t it time for another litigator to exercise a new strategy.”
William’s jaw ticked with irritation, but he exercised total control over the faked conciliatory tone of his words as he said, “I couldn’t agree more. All the same, if you could use another pair of eyes, I’d be happy to pitch in. It is my area of expertise, after all.”
“From what I hear, your caseload’s not getting any lighter. I think the DA’s office would best be served if we all focused on our own responsibilities, don’t you? As unwelcome as they may be. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for a meeting,” he concluded.
With a courteous half-nod and placid smile, Gavin led William out of his office and closed the door.
William stood in the hallway, staring thoughtfully after his colleague as he walked away.
An hour later, William buzzed his paralegal for an impromptu meeting in his office. Andrew dutifully rushed over, only to find his superior apparently waiting for him, standing in front of his desk with arms crossed and looking even sterner than usual.
As he tentatively inched his way further inside, William ordered, “Come in and close the door, Andrew.”
Andrew’s eyes grew big as saucers at his words. Obeying his directions, Andrew turned back to face William and immediately began to plead his case.
“Am I in trouble, boss? Are you going to fire me? I know I was late with my last periodical review, but please, just give me another chance, I promise you—“
William threw up his hands to halt his subordinate’s verbal onslaught. “At ease, soldier,” he interrupted him loudly. “Christ, did you have a double espresso this morning or what?”
As always, Andrew strived to obey William to the letter. “N-no. Just my regular café mocha. With extra foam.”
William rolled his eyes. “Great. You’re not in any sort of trouble. Today, anyway. Look, you’re some kind of tech whiz, right?”
“Um—”
“You know your way around a computer,” he reformulated impatiently. “And software and—so on,” he concluded, gesturing vaguely.
“Yes. I was the first to introduce Cobra to TopCoder,” Andrew reminisced fondly.
William clapped his hands together. “Well, let’s put those skills to work, shall we? I want you to find out if Gavin Park’s been in personal contact with Russell Winters or anyone who works for Empire Enterprises recently.”
Andrew’s eyes grew big as saucers. “How would I do that?” he squeaked.
William folded his arms. “Anyway you know how.”
When Andrew’s only response was to blink rapidly, William spoke for him. “You’re nervous because I’m asking you do something—unorthodox.” As Andrew nodded his assent, William waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing to worry about. I’m only looking for information. You won’t be exposed in any way, you have my word.”
“What’s this about?” Andrew asked cautiously.
“What’s this about,” William repeated. “This is about justice. Do you want to go after it?” He turned his steeliest gaze on his assistant. “To actually make a difference in this world? Not just collect a paycheck and uselessly chip away at the massive rock of corruption that stands in the way of criminal prosecution in this city?” he ranted.
“Yes,” Andrew whispered helplessly.
William nodded seriously. “Winters has been exposed in case after case of financial graft but somehow he always finds cover in the nick of time. I know it, you know it. We’ve played it by the book for years. It’s time to try something else.”
Andrew looked to William to be on the verge of buying in, but his face still betrayed nervous indecision. For the first time, William mulled over alternative tactics to his normal roster of admonishment, excoriation, and intimidation. Remembering the marked loyalty of Buffy’s staff, he settled on a new strategy.
“I have faith in you.”
Andrew immediately squared his shoulders. “Okay, boss.”
As her lunch break neared, Buffy set aside the latest external review of alternative schools with a sigh. Closing her eyes and sitting up straighter in her chair, she ran through the sequence of upcoming tasks she would have to attend to by the end of the day. As she completed her list, the case that had begun with Dashawn flashed onto her mental calendar.
Her eyes popped open and her arm shot out for her cell phone. Searching through her list of contacts, Buffy tapped the familiar name and waited. Suddenly impatient, she unconsciously began tapping her foot under her desk.
“Hey, B. How’s it goin’?”
“Fine. Hey, um, do you have any news for me?”
“Yeah, hold on a sec.” As she waited, Buffy heard the heavy clomping of Faith’s boots and the low hum of background noise followed by the sound of a door swinging open. Then Faith was speaking again, her voice reverberating now as if she were in a tunnel.
“I’m in the ladies’. Always wins the prize of most likely to be deserted, am I right?” Faith chuckled.
“Yeah. But what’s with all the cloak and dagger?”
“You tell me. I don’t know if you’re calling me to go shopping or come pick up a body.”
“Faith,” Buffy protested.
“I’m just saying. You’re Little Miss Unpredictable these days.”
“I’m—not,” Buffy objected. Looking down, she relaxed the hand she had involuntarily fisted. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about what I was doing.”
“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Faith stated nonchalantly.
“Well, I appreciate all your help,” Buffy said delicately.
Buffy knew Faith was still hurt she hadn’t confided in her until it was absolutely necessary and she needed something from her. Despite the fact that Buffy felt Faith understood her on some level better than anyone, it was impossible for her to grant Faith the kind of trust she extended implicitly to Willow or Angel. She had simply seen Faith nearly lose it one too many times.
“No problem, kimosabe.”
Buffy drummed her fingers on her desk in anticipation. “So, did they run it yet?”
“Interior ballistics report came in this morning. You’re not gonna believe this. Or maybe you knew it all along?”
“What is it, Faith?”
“The bullet you picked up matched the ones they pulled from the bodies Freeman Trick did way back when. Rifling pattern was the same.”
Buffy was stunned into silence on her end of the line.
“What are the odds, huh?”
When Buffy still hadn’t replied, Faith pressed, “You still there, B?”
“Yeah,” Buffy replied quickly, snapping out of it. “I didn’t expect that at all.”
“Surprise, surprise, surprise,” Faith cracked, doing her best Gomer Pyle.
“I don’t get it.” A sinking feeling assailed her. “Does that mean—do they think it’s just a relic?”
“Now for the good news. Blood residue on the bullet didn’t match any of his old victims. Or any John Does in the database, either.”
“What about Holtz?”
“DNA profile is TBA. Labs had to wait until his missing status was upgraded.”
“Good.”
“Trick’s like a bad penny, huh? Turning up as a freaking phantom killer.” Faith let out a humorless laugh.
“I can’t believe his gun is still out there,” Buffy said, rubbing her forehead. She tried to remember the details of what Trick had told them at the time. “It wasn’t pitched.”
“Looks like.”
“One step forward, two steps back,” Buffy mumbled.
“So there you have it.” Sighing, Faith informed Buffy, “There’s one other thing. Forrest told me they’re thinking of calling Robin Wood in to consult.”
When Buffy didn’t respond, Faith awkwardly tried to fill the silence.
“Look, I know there’s no love lost between you two. Love being the operative word—”
“No,” Buffy interrupted. She took a deep breath before saying, “I mean, we didn’t exactly make good partners, but I always thought he was a good cop.”
“Well, good cop may end up back in SoCal for a few if he can get leave.”
“Good. That’s—good.”
“Yep.”
Buffy was being evasive again, and she knew Faith knew it. But she needed more time to process everything before she could talk to Faith about it, or decide if she even wanted to. She looked for a way to sort out their unfinished business and end the call.
“Did, uh, you get in any trouble with Giles?”
“Not really, but then I kinda threw you under the bus,” Faith admitted.
“Oh?”
“I didn’t want him to think I was keeping anything from him, so I didn’t exactly deny it when he asked if you pressured me into helping you.”
For her part, Buffy didn’t think that explanation was so far off the mark, but she knew Faith’s code of loyalty wouldn’t let her see it that way.
“He doesn’t know we’re still close.” Buffy couldn’t help but wonder if Giles just assumed all of her former cohort, like her ex-partner, shunned her now.
“And I didn’t tell him any different.”
“That’s fine. Was he mad?”
“Oh, he started muttering something about rogue freelancers but I can’t always tell whether he’s annoyed or maybe actually proud, you know? G-man plays it pretty cool.”
Faith’s description conjured up a familiar image, and Buffy smiled to herself.
“Yeah.”
“So yeah, there was a little fallout, but I handled it.”
“Thanks.” She hesitated before she asked, “And we’re ok?”
“Well, lemme see, after you saved my ass how many times?” Faith drawled. Chuckling, she reassured her best friend, “Sure, B. Five by five.”