Cajun Justice(28)

“Please, take a seat,” LeRoy said as he moved behind his desk and plopped down into his nice executive chair. He clasped his hands and laid them down on his immaculate desk. He calmly looked at Cain, who had no idea what to expect.

He’s probably about to give me some type of half-assed apology, Cain thought. I’m not interested in listening to anything like that.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Don’t you ever call me a cowardly son of a bitch again,” LeRoy said.

Cain felt his eyes bulge as he searched for his response.

“You don’t have a clue how far I stuck my neck out for you,” LeRoy continued. “The White House is so embarrassed by what happened that the SAC was promising the chief of staff that he’d fire your ass personally. But I convinced him to go through the steps—hoping you’d get enough ammunition to save your job. Your meeting with the SAC went down pretty much like I had imagined, except for the part where you told him to shove that pen up his ass.” Cain thought he perceived a slight smile on the King’s lips. “I respect your decision, but I’m not sure I would have done the same thing.”

“‘To thine own self be true,’” Cain said. “‘Thou canst not then be false to any man.’ At the end of the day, I gotta stay true to myself.”

“Man, you can quote Shakespeare all day, but I told you heads were gonna roll, and mine was damn sure not going to be one of ’em. I’ve worked too long and too damned hard to get where I’m at. And I’m not going to trade my career for yours, that piece of shit Jackson, or for the others. There aren’t many agencies looking for an old black cop these days. This is all I got.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

Cain’s demeanor softened. He didn’t agree with what happened at all, but he understood LeRoy’s position a little better. “I’m sorry about the cowardly son of a bitch remark.”

LeRoy dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “You’re a damn good agent, and it’s a shame we’re losing you. I just wanted you to know that.”

Cain shook LeRoy’s hand.

LeRoy smiled. “Now take your sorry ass back to Alabama.”

“Louisiana,” Cain replied.

“Same difference.” LeRoy smiled even bigger. “Good luck to you, Cain. You’ll be just fine.”

“Long live the King,” Cain muttered under his breath as he left LeRoy’s office and headed toward his own to box up his belongings.





Chapter 26



Cain’s office was a large open bay with about fifteen desks separated by five-foot dividers. Never in my wildest dreams could I have envisioned how this day would end up. I knew I’d retire someday and have to box up my things, but I thought it would be after a long and distinguished career. There would be cake and punch and everyone gathered around. They’d tell exaggerated stories and roast me. I’d be the butt of jokes, at least a few. This day was different. There was no fanfare. No cake. No punch.

He headed straight to the supply room. While he gathered a few cardboard boxes, Jill quietly walked into the cramped room.

“How did it go?” she asked. She was now wearing a gray suit and carrying her pistol on her hip.

“I kind of resigned.”

“Kind of?” she said. “Is that even a thing? Sounds like kind of being pregnant. You either did or you didn’t.”

“Well, that hypocrite gave me his pen to sign my resignation letter that he had already typed up.”

Jill looked on wide-eyed.

“I told him to shove that pen where the sun don’t shine.”

“Oh, God.” She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Yeah.” She nodded. “Yup. I’d say you resigned, all right.”

He looked straight into her blue eyes. “They don’t deserve you, either. You were right to decide to leave.”

She hugged him. “These assholes don’t deserve you. It’s shit like that—that’s why it’s getting easier and easier for me to leave the Service.”

“Let’s talk later,” Cain suggested. “When it’s more private. Rumors fly around this place.”

“Yes, they do.”

Cain headed to his desk. Colleagues circled around him as he opened the drawers and started going through his things. More than one apologized. “It’s a witch hunt, brother. I’m sorry.” Cain flipped through a few loose papers with notes on them. “Don’t need these anymore.” He tossed them into a trash can. He riffled through some business cards, discarding most of them but keeping a few he thought might be helpful later. He grabbed the challenge coins he had received from VIPs he had protected. He put those and a few other personal items he had collected from his travels into a box. He found the drawings and thank-you cards some children had given him when he and Tom had been tasked with participating in a local school’s career day. He placed the keepsakes in the box.

His desk phone rang. He instinctively reached out and grabbed the handset but paused.

“Maybe it’s POTUS calling—granting you a stay,” one agent remarked.

Jill leaned in, and Cain strained to hear her over the noise of everyone jeering and telling him what he should do. “Don’t answer it, Cain. You’re a free man now,” she whispered in his ear.