Derick's POV
I reached the Federal Criminal Intelligence Bureau after that call from the boss. The building rose like a fortress, glass and steel, every corner watched and every step monitored.
The elevator ride crawled. My pulse wouldn't settle, not after Arthur's voice had boomed through the phone a while ago: "Get your ass here!"
Helen's breath still lingered against my neck, a secret I couldn't scrub off, no matter how I tried.
Arthur Cole's office waited at the end of the hallway. I knocked once.
"Come in."
His voice was calm, steady. Arthur stood by the window, hands clasped behind his back, his reflection a faint ghost in the glass.
"You're late," he said without turning.
"Traffic."
Finally, he turned, sharp eyes slicing across my face like he was reading a file only he could see.
A lie. He knew it. I knew he knew it.
Arthur walked to his desk and slid a tablet across the polished surface.
"Explain."
