Page 162 of Beyond the Badge: Crew

“Compared to my house? It sucks. Can we wrap up this fucking investigation soon? I miss my pool and my own bed.”

“Hey, it’s not easy finding rentals right now. Especially with the budget the agency gave me. Just be glad you’re not living in a camper down by the river.”

Decker burst out in laughter.

“Does that mean something?” Cami asked.

“She’s probably too young to know that SNL skit,” Torres said.

“SNL as in Saturday Night Live?” she asked him.

“Yeah,” the plant manager answered. “Do a search on YouTube for SNL and Chris Farley. You’ll get sucked down a rabbit hole and you won’t regret it.”

Rez did the sign of the cross. “Gone too soon.”

“Amen,” Torres murmured.

“Can we get this meeting started?” Nox asked impatiently.

“You in a rush?” Finn asked him.

“Got somewhere I need to be soon.”

He either had a therapy appointment or a grief support group meeting to attend. Either way, Crew didn’t care if he went in the middle of a workday as long as he went. And kept going.

“Before we get started on the official business… Any signs of T-Bone, Ghost?” Decker asked Fletch.

“None. I haven’t seen him or even heard his name mentioned once. I saw another prospect coming in and out of that first room in their quarters. I just want to confirm that was T-Bone’s, right?”

“Yeah.” Decker turned to Cami. “Have you seen or heard about the prospect at Hawg Wild?”

“Not a word.” She slid into a seat at the conference table while tugging her skirt down to prevent flashing the whole team.

Crew sure as fuck hoped she was wearing underwear. Iron underwear. With a lock.

“At this point, my guess is they eighty-sixed him,” Fletch said, pulling Crew out from under Cami’s skirt and back to the conversation at hand.

“Good,” Decker said.

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer asshole,” Finn said next.

“That’ll be one less burden on the taxpayers,” Nox said from his office chair over at one of the desks.

“If the Demons got rid of him, I really hope they gotridof him. The Earth will be a little bit safer for women,” Decker said.

“Losing one asshole doesn’t make much of a dent in that department,” Wilder told them through the conference phone.

“True,” Cami agreed. “Plenty of other entitled men out there who think we can’t survive without them. Or don’t understand the word no.”

“Or ‘fuck off,’” Wilder added. “I swear these Demons are the worst, too. I can be standing right next to Fletch and they still try to pull shit with me.”

“How many fingers have you broken?” Finn asked.

“Apparently not enough for them to get the message,” Wilder answered. “But most of them are pretty fucking dense.”

“Aren’t you protecting your ol’ lady, Ghost?” Crew asked.

“Excuse me?” Wilder’s shout filled the room. “I certainly don’t need Fletch protecting me. I’m capable of doing that on my own, fuck you very much.”

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