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Devyn was relieved the week was about over. She had been so optimistic when they returned to Salt Lake that the remaining pieces would start falling into place and they would finally solve the Risky Research cases. Instead, that all-too-familiar feeling of hitting one brick wall after another persisted.

The Washington D.C. office continued to ignore Agent Conroy’s requests to share the evidence collected during their surveillance operation. They refused to divulge the status of their investigation or provide a timeline on when they might release information.

She assumed they were being extra cautious and tight-lipped due to Senator Carson Grant’s possible involvement and fear of his stable of lawyers, which made her want to scream. The longer Sofia Wilks and the rest of Coterie remained at large, the greater the risk that someone else might die.

Devyn was convinced that the senator was not a member of Coterie, just a pawn being blackmailed by Sofia. She wasn’t sure if discovering what Coterie or Sofia held over him would help the investigation, but she wanted to find out nonetheless.

“Hey, Devyn, Conroy wants to see us in his office,” Gordo stated as he and Fitz approached.

“What’s he want?”

“Don’t know. He just said get Devyn and come to my office ASAP,” Gordo replied.

Pushing herself out of her chair, she groaned. Most of the progress she’d made on healing her body after Arizona came undone when she tackled Trevor in the park. Once again, her aches and pains made her feel twice her age. Hoping Conroy had good news, she followed the two young men into their boss’s office.

“Take a seat. I finally heard back from my superior in D.C. As you can imagine, they need to tread lightly in matters involving high-level politicians since much of their budgets and many of their jobs are at the mercy of these same individuals.”

“So, are we getting the evidence or not?” Devyn asked impatiently.

“Yes, we’re getting everything but with conditions.”

Devyn sighed. She assumed there’d be a catch.

“They want us to continue to lead the investigation to keep a layer between the politicians and the D.C. FBI. I imagine if we step over the line they plan to claim they weren’t aware of what the field was doing. Plausible deniability,” Conroy said.

“Figures. The investigation goes south and they’ll throw us under the bus without hesitation,” Devyn stated.

Conroy ignored her comment and continued. “The D.C. authorities are more concerned at the moment about how someone as deadly as Sofia managed to get such unrestricted access to so many politicians for so many years and how Morgan was kidnapped from the event so easily. They’re buried in a politically charged after-action-review.”

“How soon will they turn everything over to us?” Gordo asked. “It would be nice to finally be able to analyze the data we gathered.”

“Everything should be uploaded to the Risky Research database by Monday morning. I was assured we would get our audio and video surveillance footage back as well as any hotel security or Senator Grant’s private security detail recorded: the guest list, and everything they’ve gathered while going through Sofia Wilks’ office and apartment, including the interviews with her employees. I also learned they matched Trevor’s DNA to that found on Sofia’s murdered assistant, Justine. He also promised to add their weight behind our request to track the money transfers into Frank the assassin’s Cayman bank account.”

“So, what’s the catch?” Devyn asked.

“We are not to contact Senator Grant directly. If you have questions for him, those must go through the D.C. FBI. He claims he’s not being blackmailed by Sofia Wilks and his only dealings with her were in her capacity of a lobbyist.”

“In the meantime, did any of you turn up anything else?” Agent Conroy asked.

“The autopsy on Margaret Blair came back. No surprise, she was murdered. The only interesting piece is that I sent Sofia’s and Trevor’s photos to the Santa Fe police investigator. When he showed them around the spa they found several eye witnesses who placed Trevor at the facility, no one claimed to have seen Sofia,” Devyn replied.

“Well, that’s consistent with Sofia’s staff. According to the D.C. authorities, her assistant claimed she was at the office during the time the murder occurred, so I guess Urban got it wrong and Trevor Montoya was the killer, not Sofia,” Conroy stated. “Gordo, Fitz, you got anything?”

“Not much. We’re searching for J.R.s in any of the Risky Research related industries, but that’s yielding mountains of data. We think ‘jars’ is probably J.R.’s since Urban was referring to Sofia belonging to someone. Problem is J.R. is usually the initials of a person’s first and middle names, like John Robert. In business, this individual likely goes by whatever those initials stand for, so we’ve been compiling a list of anyone in a high-level position in the diet product, nutrition, research, and pharmaceutical world whose first name starts with J. I fear we’re searching for a needle in a haystack.”

“Drop that line for now. Maybe you’ll find something more useful in the data we should receive from D.C. by Monday. Let’s call it a week, and I’ll see you three at Nick’s and Morgan’s wedding tomorrow,” Conroy stated.

The trio stood and left. Outside Conroy’s office, Gordo paused. “Um, do you have a date for the wedding or do you want to go with me and Fitz?”

“Not sure yet. Gage’s deputy was supposed to be back from his honeymoon, but last night he was still stuck at the Atlanta airport.”

“Well, just let me know. I’d be happy to pick you up in case you want to cut loose and blow off some steam. I could be your designated driver.”

“Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

When Devyn reached her desk, she saw two dozen red roses sitting in the middle of her desk and several women admiring the arrangement. It should have brought a smile to her face, but she assumed it was an “I’m sorry I can’t make it” offering from Gage.

“Those are beautiful, who are they from?” one of the women asked.

“My guess is they’re from her imaginary boyfriend,” Gardner stated as he strolled up and snatched the card from the bouquet.

“Gardner, I’ve had a tough week. Give me the card and get out of here,” Devyn demanded.

“Let’s find out who Devyn’s flowers are from?” Gardner announced as he held the card high in the air.

“They’re from me.”

The familiar deep voice seemed to silence the entire floor. Not a word was spoken as Gardner slowly turned around to find himself eye level with the speaker’s chin. Devyn almost squeaked with joy as she watched Gardner’s expression change from a snarky sneer to confusion and concern.

Gage ripped the card from Gardner’s hand and stared the shorter man down. Gage was a good six inches taller than Gardner, with much broader shoulders and a look in his eyes that challenged Gardner to respond.

“Who are you?” Gardner’s voice cracked ever so slightly making Devyn’s smile grow wider.

“Gage Harris.”

“The Wyoming sheriff,” Gordo mumbled in awe.

“I assume you must be Gardner, because I don’t see any other weasels in this room.” Gage challenged.

Gardner’s mouth dropped open.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Devyn’s been itching to teach you a lesson for being such a jerk to her and all of the new employees that come on board here. I have no doubt she can make you beg for mercy, but she hasn’t wanted to let her partner down by getting suspended. I have no such problem. Do I make myself clear?”

Gardner nodded but still hadn’t spoken.

“I believe you took something that isn’t yours and therefore you owe someone an apology,” Gage stated as he handed the card back to Gardner.

Gardner paused and stared up at Gage. Devyn figured he was debating between looking weak in front of his colleagues or testing Gage’s threat.

“I believe this belongs to you. Sorry.” Gardner handed Devyn the card, rushed to his desk, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the elevator.

“Hope I didn’t make matters worse?” Gage stated as he smiled down at Devyn.

“No. It’s about time someone stood up to that pig. If he bothers her again all of us women that he harasses and belittles will file a joint complaint,” the woman who had asked about the flowers stated.

“That’s right,” the one next to her added.

“Shows over. Back to work,” Conroy ordered as he approached Devyn’s desk.

Devyn introduced Gage to Conroy, Gordo, and Fitz, fighting to keep the uncharacteristic grin off her face. Gordo and Fitz seemed a little nervous and quickly excused themselves. Conroy wasn’t so shy.

“I’ve heard a great deal about you, Sheriff, from Devyn and Nick. It’s nice to finally meet you. We appreciate all the cooperation on the Risky Research case. If it wasn’t for you and your deputy these thugs might still be operating under the radar. So, what do we owe this visit to?”

“I came down to escort Devyn to Nick’s wedding and to gauge whether or not I might coax her into making a trip down the aisle one of these days.”

Devyn was so stunned she couldn’t speak.

“Good luck on that.” Conroy chuckled. “See you tomorrow.”

Conroy hadn’t even missed a beat while she was still unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Well Devyn, are you ready for a wedding?”

“Whose?”

“I believe that’s up to you,” he replied as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her until she was sure she would fall to the floor if he let her go.

When she finally felt oxygen returning to her brain, she put her arms around Gage’s neck and looked up into his hazel eyes.

“Let’s see. You took care of me when I was injured and grumpy and didn’t run away. We’ve worked together on several big cases. You’ve sent me flowers, displayed acts of chivalry, and dominated all my waking thoughts for years. It may be a little backward, but I think all we’re missing is a real date.”

“How does dinner and a movie sound?”

“Perfect,” Devyn said as she put an arm around his waist and guided him out of the building.