Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(47)

As much as Mark hated to admit it, David’s assumptions answered a lot of questions. The only problem was the truth kept getting in the way.

“But I saw him, David. So did you.”

“And it was a very traumatic experience for all of us. We were highly susceptible to misdirection.”

“I guess.” Mark scrubbed his face with both hands, tired of remembering.

All it did was bring the nightmare back in living, dying color, and he wanted to forget. No, he needed to forget because more and more, it forced him into the role of devil’s advocate, the one who argued that Alex was dead. The last place Mark wanted to be.

“How is Kelsey?” David changed the subject.

“She’s hurting. She looks more like the living dead than—”

“Jesus Christ! What the hell do you want now?” Maverick bellowed loud and angry from the work bay. “The shirt off my back? Every last ounce of my blood? What, you sonofabitchin’ *? Spit it the hell out of your lying mouth!”

“Get off me, Carson! Back off before I hurt you!”

By the time Mark and David got out the door, Connor had Maverick in an arm lock. Maverick looked lethal, his chest heaving, his face red and his jaw tight. Landon lay flat on his back with Izza’s knee in his chest. Lisa Channing stood behind Izza, her eyes bright with tears that hadn’t spilled yet.

What the hell? This was a first—a brawl in the office.

Maverick jerked out of Connor’s grasp but Landon stayed put because Izza wouldn’t let him move, not with her knee at his throat.

“What the hell’s going on?” Mark asked.

“Nothing,” Maverick said angrily. “Forget it.”

“These guys broke my coffee maker.” Mother glared at Mark as if that was his fault, too. Wasn’t everything?


Mark looked to Landon for an answer, but he was no more talkative than Maverick.

Izza had no problem, though. “They’re fighting over Channing, Boss.”

“Are not!” Maverick spat, thumbing his chin, still ready to fight. “I couldn’t care less that they’re sleeping together. They deserve each other.”

The guy seemed wound tight, ready to take a swing at Connor. Good luck with that. Connor had grown up with a few brothers in Boston, plus he’d married Izza. He knew a few things about kickboxing and playing dirty.

“Let him up, Izza,” Mark ordered.

This kind of foolishness would’ve never happened with Alex, mostly because he scared the hell out of his new agents. He was taciturn, rude, and downright oblivious to the newbies until they stepped up to the plate and proved themselves worthy of his notice.

Landon rolled to his feet, still silent, but his upper lip lifted in a smirk.

Maverick already stood at his desk, his back to the rest of the office and his shoulders heaving.

“Clean this mess up,” Mark ordered.

“I’ll get it,” Maverick rasped.

Terrific. More trouble.

“Team. Meeting. Now!” Mark barked.

The Sit Room filled with a couple of sullen team members, Maverick and Mother.

She still had an attitude Mark couldn’t pin down. She sat in her usual position, which would’ve put her at Alex’s right if he’d been there. Only now that Mark had unofficially taken over, it put her between Landon, who’d taken Alex’s chair, and Lisa. Mother’s lips were pursed, her arms folded over her chest as if she had some place better to be.

“Team,” Mark began quietly, “I’ve made a mess of things. I’ve been pushing you guys pretty hard—maybe too hard. With Gabe and Zack on duty at Kelsey’s, we’re two men short. Guess I need to take a step back and adjust workload.”

“You’re not telling us everything you know, either,” Mother snapped. Her lips stuck out like a petulant high school prom queen’s.

“What haven’t I told you?” Mark had to ask. He thought he’d been forthcoming with all the intelligence they’d gathered so far. What have I missed?

“You didn’t tell us right away when Harley’s boys were born. I tried to call him all last night, but he wouldn’t pick up. You should’ve told us the minute you knew. Alex would have.”

God. How on earth did Alex ever deal with these people?

“You’re right. That’s important. I should’ve made that announcement sooner.”

She studied her brightly-colored acrylic nails.

“Would you take up a collection for the Mortimer family?” Mark asked, kissing her ass despite his inclination to kick it.

Her face brightened. “Yes, Boss—I mean, Mark. I’d be happy to do that for Harley and Judy.”

He caught the jab. Apparently, her problem resided with him. “Have you checked into exhumation, like I asked?”

“Not yet. I’ve been busy with Steven finding the shooter.” She kept pushing.

“Have it on my desk by tomorrow morning.” Mark pushed back. “I need to tell Kelsey we’re doing what she asked. Anyone else got something to say?”

“Just give us marching orders,” Rory spoke right up. “You lead. We follow.”

“How’s Kelsey’s car coming?”

“We’re down to loose ends. Nothing that can’t keep.”