Page 10 of Wyatt
“Sir, you can’t! I’ve been working this for weeks. I know the details better than anyone.”
“I can and I will.”
“Sir, don’t do this to her. You and I both know that Ulani is an exceptional agent. Nothing we’ve done interferes in this case.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, son.”
“I’m not your son, and I was trying to be polite. We can always take this up the ladder.” Ulani groaned, taking a step back, knowing that Wyatt was now going to really let loose.
“What the fuck does that mean?” he snapped.
“Sorry, I didn’t get your name,” said Wyatt.
“Director Ezra Barber. Who the fuck do you think you are besides being a hotshot pilot? You’re all the same,” he said, shaking his head. Wyatt stepped closer, leaning over the fat man and whispering low.
“As I said,” he repeated calmly, “I’m Captain Wyatt O’Neal. That woman is my soon-to-be fiancée. We grew up together with our parents, who own a business. A private security company. Her father is Ethan Dunvegan. Mine is HG O’Neal. Would you like me to list my uncles?”
Barber stared at her, then back at Wyatt. He was chewing the inside of his mouth and would draw blood soon if he didn’t stop.
“No. I don’t believe you need to list them off. You’ve made your point, captain. Youcouldgo over my head. I’m going to hope you won’t. Since this is your roommate, I’ll let Agent Dunvegan continue on this case. But one screw up, one fucked up clue, and I’ll pull you and make sure you’re very far away from all of this.”
“Fair enough,” nodded Wyatt.
There was a tense silence between the two men, then Barber waved them over to the car. Mick’s body was lying back in the driver’s seat, his shorts pulled down to his knees, no underwear, and pink lipstick around his dick.
“Your roommate was obviously being serviced when this happened.”
“You don’t have to be an asshole, Barber. We just want to help. He was a good man and a good pilot, and he damn sure didn’t deserve to die that way.”
“What is the cause of death, sir?” asked Ulani.
“Coroner is still looking into it, but there are three needle marks on his outer thigh.”
“Three? No one has ever had three,” said Ulani, looking at Wyatt.
“Maybe he wasn’t responding right away to the first one, and someone got nervous,” said Wyatt. He stared inside the car, trying not to look at the face of his friend. On the dashboard were a few strange specks, and he got closer. “Do you have an evidence kit?”
The man behind him nodded, opening the kit for him.
“What do you see?”
“Blood. Splatter on the dash and here, just below the controls on the console. Whether this was a man or woman, I think he tried to fight back,” said Wyatt.
“I’ll collect it, sir,” said the other agent.
“What do you want us to do?” Ulani asked Barber.
“Check the video footage in the bar. I’d be shocked if they have any, but we can hope. If not, maybe see if any of the other businesses have any. Someone had to have seen who he walkedout with.” He looked at Wyatt. “I don’t want to piss you off, but was this normal behavior for him?”
Wyatt hesitated a moment and then nodded.
“He was notorious for one-night stands. Hell, not even one night. He was often doing it in his car or her car and then bailing. He brought a few women home, but not many, and they were gone by morning. Many pissed off.”
“Listen, I know that the jets you’re currently testing are, uh, family business. Of course, I only know that now because you so politely pointed out your family connections,” said Barber. Wyatt gave him a sly grin. “What the hell do they want from you guys?”
“My guess is how to fly them.”
“Can’t anyone figure out how to fly them?” he asked.
