There was too much at stake here. First and foremost, he wanted to nail these guys and send them to jail. Innocent people were being ripped off, paying astronomical prices for prescription drugs so they could line Chatterton’s pockets.
And ripping off Medicare cost every single American money in the long run.
A case like this would send a clear message to other corporate CEO’s that the Justice Department wouldn’t tolerate price-fixing and corporate monopolies.
All of that was the most important factor in this case, and he couldn’t risk jeopardizing it.
Then there was his own career.
He’d always been something of a rule bender, aggressive, out to get the perp at all costs.
That kind of attitude had earned him a broken kneecap and another federal agent a bullet in the arm.
It hadn’t seemed like a big deal at the time. He had stumbled across some money laundering during a prior investigation. It had seemed like such a small op, a car rental franchise, that hehad thought he could handle an office raid with just Sam Barker with him.
He should have waited, he should have followed procedure. That little op was really a front for the mob, and before the day was done, he and Sam had both been injured and the middlemen running the op had fled.
A total disaster. A screw-up as big as the fucking Sears tower, Nordstrom had called it.
Sam had left the field temporarily, his arm too stiff to hold a gun steady. And Derek himself had an arthritic knee that he had lied to his boss about.
Just fine, he’d said.Good as new.
So Reese needed to be cut out. He had to protect this case and he had to protect her. Keep her far away from Chatterton.
An hour and a half later he had come to the conclusion that protecting Reese was going to be by far the most frustrating op he’d ever done. She was manipulating circles around him.
All with a smile on her face.
During the whole Maine lobster, asparagus, and squash dinner she had driven him nuts with her exploring fingers under the table. All while telling every single person they’d talked to a different story about who they were.
He couldn’t remember if he was supposed to be a prizewinning French scientist or a rancher from Texas named Ridge. Either way, she might well say he didn’t speak English either, since he couldn’t do accents for shit. His rancher had sounded like Elvis drunk.
Now he was standing in a corner watching her dance with Chatterton. Somehow her quick trip to the ladies’ room had resulted in her firmly hooked in Chatterton’s pervert paws, doing a bastardized version of the waltz.
As an FBI agent working a case, he didn’t like it.
As a man who was rapidly developing a thing for this woman, hehatedit.
Reese danced by him, her light laughter making him wince, Chatterton’s hand so close to her ass that he swore out loud.
“You used to look at me like that.”
Derek glanced over, embarrassed that he’d spoken out loud. Dawn was watching Reese and Chatterton, Reese’s auburn hair swinging around as Chatterton spun her a little wildly.
Derek said ruefully, “What...in horror?”
Dawn cracked a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “No, I mean like you couldn’t get enough of me. That even when you were across the room from me, you had to be watching me.”
That wistful, regret-laden trace of something in her words made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t think of anything to say and so said nothing.
Nor did it seem like he could remember far back enough to a time when the sight of Dawn had filled him with passion and possessiveness. Too much time and divorce papers had made it impossible to stand in his old shoes.
“She’s gorgeous.” It wasn’t delivered as a compliment, but as a begrudging admission.
“Yes.” Just where in the hell was this conversation going?
“She’s got claws, too. That was a good one about my due date.”