Skeletons in the Closet (Sue Thomas FBEye)

Chapter Seventeen

The day had gone from bad to worse to near impossible. Hearings were supposed to be held privately and kept confidential. Having his flaw exposed was one thing, but to admit to an activity to which Myles did not partake was another. And having the whole bureau to know about it within the hour was very aggravating.

Like Myles Leland the Third would bet on a loser named 'Sloppy Joe'. The stupid horse had four left hind legs. He wasn't the compulsive gambler he made himself to be, and he certainly wasn't on a losing streak. He took pride in making sound investments, and it bothered him that the committee so easily believed him.

He entered the garage as Connors was rolling towards his specially designed utility vehicle. He watched from the shadow as the side door slid open and a ramp slowly extended. Once in place, Connors wheeled himself inside, pushing himself off with his arms from his wheelchair to the driver seat that pivoted towards the front after he was seated.

Something wasn't adding up, kept thinking Myles, as the Assistant Director drove away.

A few days after they met with Garrett, Syto contacted Tara.

The car Davis hit that was registered to Connors was also specially designed to be driven without the use of his legs. All the controls were within his fingertips, and the trunk was big enough to accommodate a wheelchair. Except the car didn't place Connors at the murder scene

Without help, the man couldn't exit the car to get his chair from the trunk, less alone climb to Jack's apartment. They were looking for an accomplice. Peterson's men hadn't seen the car leave the garage, or anyone visit Connors since he was under surveillance. And as much as Myles despised Osborne, the agent had an alibi for early that evening.

Myles felt like they were chasing their tails. It didn't help they had not heard from Singapore. After ten days, Myles would have expected progress. How long could it take to find out about R.B. Research?

He honked at the car that suddenly stopped in front of him, having barely avoided rear-ending it.

Why were all the idiots on the road during rush hour? He was in a very lousy mood, why did he accept to have supper at the Mannings tonight when Tara ran into him at lunch? Because he wanted to be kept in the loop, because he couldn't wait to squeeze his fingers around Connors' neck... and Osborne's...

"How was your day, mate?" Bobby asked, welcoming Myles inside.

"If you make a single horse joke, I'm going to hit you," warned Myles, having heard enough whispers behind his back.

Whoever was designing communication systems should take the grapevine as a perfect model of efficiency, he thought irritably, as he followed Bobby to the kitchen.

The spicy aroma caught him off guard. "Smells good, Tara."

"I made Sloppy J..."

Bobby was shaking his head behind Myles, hoping to save his wife from Myles' irk.

"Sloppy Jack," she corrected herself, unable to refrain from grinning.

"Very funny," Myles growled.

"Sorry, Myles. Have a seat," offered Tara. "You may not believe me but this is a coincidence."

"You're right, I don't believe you," he replied sarcastically.

"Mate, you took a big one for the team at that hearing."

"Just tell me it didn't make it as far as DEA? Just great," he mumbled when Bobby didn't answer.

"I heard from Syto," said Tara, changing the subject. "They found the place, Myles. It's a high-tech research and medical centre."

"And what was Connors doing there?"