The conference room off the white-collar squad bullpen on the FBI building’s eighth floor was decorated with generic office inspirational prints about teamwork and perseverance.
“Amy, I can’t thank you enough for all this,” Kit said as she laid her bag down on the table.
Her old friend, Amy Cargill, flicked on the overhead light, then took a silly bow.
“Your wish is my command,” she said.
Kit smiled. She had always liked Amy. Unlike most agents, she hated the field and actually loved accounting and took every back-office gig she could grab.
She’d gained some weight in the three years since they’d last seen each other, but it seemed to suit her. She definitely seemed happier.
“Your boss really wants you at this meeting, huh?” Amy said.
“Apparently,” Kit said, slipping out her Mac Pro.
“On your break from a shooting? I mean, really? He sounds like a real jerk.”
“Well, now that you mention it,” Kit stage-whispered back and they shared a laugh.
“Coffee?” Amy said.
Kit lifted the navy blue YETI travel cup in her hand.
“No, I have my yucky kale smoothie right here, thank you very much.”
“You can take the girl out of LA, huh,” Amy said, giving her a wink. “I already gave you the Wi-Fi. Anything else, Kit?”
“No, I’m set. You’re the best, Amy.”
Kit smiled at her old friend’s back as she left, feeling somewhat guilty. She hated telling a lie. She looked down at her phone vibrating atop the cheap table and saw it was Sinclair calling back.
Well, at least to a good person, she thought as she picked it up.