Her get-out-of-jail-free card.
The agent’s eyes settled on hers. She noted his were as brilliant as Harris’s, only green. What was with these guys and colored lenses?
“Agent Parker, the floor is yours.”
“Good morning,” he began, his gaze never wavering from hers. “Welcome to the Sixers program. Each one of you plays a very important part in this initiative. But none more important than yours, Detective Dare.”
He paused a moment, as if to let the weight of that sink in. He needn’t have bothered. She was screwed and she knew it.
“The Bureau has a lot invested in this program. Protect your asset at all costs. From all quarters. The success of this project could determine the future of law enforcement.”
She held his gaze. “From all quarters. What does that mean?”
“I think you know.”
“Spell it out, Agent Parker. I’m a southern girl. I believe in God, country, and dealin’ from the top of the deck.”
“You back him up, no matter what the circumstance.”
“He screws up, I take the hit?”
“Yes.”
“Or the bullet?”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that.”
“It comes to that every day, Agent Parker. May I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Why so secretive?”
“Another question I believe you already know the answer to. The general public isn’t ready for this. The media attention would make it impossible for our operatives to perform and for us to evaluate those performances.”
“Plus,” she said softly, “if the initiative fails, no one’s the wiser.”
“Damage control is costly and embarrassing.”
“Why PDs, Agent Parker? Why not keep the assets within the Bureau?”
He didn’t blink. She realized he hadn’t since their gazes locked. “We’ve had Sixers working within the Bureau for several years. It’s time we get them on the street and evaluate their effectiveness combating everyday crimes.”
“Sounds like you’re looking to put me—” she motioned around the table “—to put us, out of work.”
He laughed, the sound silky. Too silky. Sweet-talkin’ men are serpents, Grandma Roberta used to say. Like the one in the garden, temptin’ Eve.
Micki should know, she’d given in to more than her share of them.
“Hardly, Detective. Harris is here to assist you.”
“So Harris here, using his “superpowers,” finds us our perp, and we use legitimate science to nail him.”
“Excellent assessment, Detective. Law enforcement for the twenty-first century and beyond.” He moved his gaze around the table, then brought it back to hers. “Each Sixer has different strengths and weaknesses. We plug them in accordingly.”
“Such as?”
“We prefer to keep that information as need-to-know. You’ll be able to observe them in the field soon enough.”
She swiveled to face her new partner. “What am I thinking?”
“Detective Harris doesn’t read minds,” Parker said softly. “He perceives events, future and past. Picks up the echoes of acts and feelings. Snatches of thoughts, past and present.”
“Pictures, sometimes,” Zach offered. “Mostly like faded snapshots, though occasionally vivid. It’s unpredictable.”
“Unpredictable,” she repeated. “Now, that’ll help me sleep at night.”
Agent Parker cocked an eyebrow. “You’re in a dangerous, unpredictable profession, Detective Dare. What does help you sleep at night?”
Parker folded his hands on the table in front of him. Something about the move translated amusement—and arrogance—to her. And it pissed her off.
She unclipped her service weapon from its holster and laid it on the table. “Glock. .40 caliber, semi-automatic. A full magazine with a bullet chambered. Having a partner I can trust. One I’ve worked beside, depended on, and with the same training as mine. One who I know, without a doubt, has my back.”
Major Nichols cleared his throat—it sounded to her as if he was trying to hide a chuckle—but Chief Howard was anything but pleased. “That’s enough, Detective Dare.”
“Actually,” Harris said, “I appreciate her honesty. And I don’t blame her for being less than thrilled with this arrangement. She doesn’t know me or what I can do.” He swiveled to face her. “So, I’m going to be just as honest with her.” He reached across the table. “Your hand, Detective Dare.”
She hesitated a moment, then laid her hand in his. He closed his fingers around hers. She experienced the slightest tingling sensation, as if something had passed between them.
His expression didn’t change. “You’re pissed about this whole thing. You think this initiative is bullshit and you’re furious you drew the short straw—”
She cut him off, dismissive, “I think I’ve made that more than obvious.”
“—even though I am eye candy.” The corners of his lips lifted. “You wish I looked like a troll.”