Page 9 of Consumed
Molina, on the other hand, appeared dismayed. At least he had the grace to not express his misgivings out loud, which was a surprise. Con spared him the effort. “Sir, I’m not a field agent. I can’t—”
“I’ve chosen the two of you quite deliberately. I need someone who can listen carefully and take accurate notes from the proceedings. Your forte, Agent Becker. Your physical capabilities aren’t important. And I also need someone who, well, possesses a certain panache. That would be you, Agent Molina. But you tend toward the careless, son, and your partner will help balance that out.”
Con was still trying to process this when Molina grunted. “Fine. Who’re the creatures we’re going to woo?”
“When you arrive tomorrow, I’ll have a packet waiting with all the information you need.”
As if on cue, the door opened and Holmes wheeled in, a stack of folders in his lap. “Meeting,” he said simply.
Townsend nodded and stood. “Yes, yes. Boys, feel free to take the day off to prepare for your journey. Now, if you’ll excuse me….”
That was a hint that couldn’t be refused. Molina unfolded himself from the chair while Con tried to hide a wince as he stood. With Molina in the lead, they left the suite. The elevator seemed especially slow to arrive.
“Sorry you’re stuck with me,” Con said just before the doors slid open.
“I usually work alone. But the chief’s right—I suck at paperwork. I don’t mind handing that job over to someone else.”
Huh. That was far less hostility than Con had expected. But they were still awkward together, remaining silent as they rode the elevator to the ground floor.
“You ever been to Arizona?” Molina asked as they disembarked.
“No.”
“Weird-ass place. Okay, see you in the morning.” He took off across the lobby at a pace that Con couldn’t possibly match.
Des, now with a paperback in one hand, still sat at the reception desk. He smiled at Con. “So, what was that the meeting about?”
“The chief wants to send me on a mission. With him.” Con pointed at Molina, who was just disappearing through the door to the parking garage. “It’s strange.”
“The chief works in mysterious ways. But tell me, have you ever known him to be wrong? About anything?”
Con shook his head.
Des leaned forward a little. He was a handsome man, his frame still powerful even in his fifties. “The chief sees things that the rest of us don’t. He can find potential in a fellow even after he’s fucked up. He found it in Kurt. And in me—and Jesus, what a mess I’d made of things. So if he sees it in you, I say you should believe it.”
“When I was a kid, I knew exactly what I was supposed to believe. But it was all nonsense.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling. But that doesn’t meannothingis true.” Des hoisted his book slightly. “Stephen King awaits me.”
Although Con couldn’t fathom why anyone who worked for the Bureau would want to read horror, he smiled. “Enjoy your monsters.”
And then he headed home to pack.
* * *
Molina, perhaps unsurprisingly, was late the following morning. Con leaned against a wall in the lobby and waited, cane in one hand and suitcase on the floor at his other side. The suitcase was brand-new, purchased the previous afternoon. It made him self-conscious, a stark reminder to others that he never went out in the field.
A few other agents passed through the lobby while he waited. They glanced at him curiously and nodded, but none stopped to chat. He wasn’t on a small-talk basis with many people at the Bureau, even though everyone interacted with him at least occasionally. Desmond was different. Because he was the librarian, Con consulted him often, and Con had become friendly with Kurt by extension. But being a couple of decades older than him, they felt more like uncles than pals.
Molina finally strolled in, wearing jeans and a plain white T-shirt instead of the suit that was Bureau standard. He still hadn’t shaved, and it looked as if he’d been in a hurry when he combed his hair. But he was one of those men who somehow made sloppy look handsome.
“Ready, dude?”
“We need the info packet from the chief.” Con had considered fetching it himself, but he wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to do so before his partner arrived.
Huh. Partner. That was weird.
“Right.” Molina looked over at the agent behind the reception desk. He spoke at top volume. “Hey, Park! Tell the boss to send down our paperwork.”
