Page 117 of Hard Rain
No one spoke.
Boone broke the silence.
“Questions?”
“Nope,” Axel said.
He wanted to nail Clay Cutter and Oscar Charleston.
Then he wanted a couple of days with Whip that didn’t involve warrants, radios, or gunfire.
He figured they’d earned that much.
UNEXPECTED BREAK
Wanting to catch Cutter and Charleston was one thing, but the reality was proving more difficult.
Sure, they wanted to send in a couple of marshals looking for Cutter, but finding him was a whole different story.
By the time they’d gotten to the place Cutter had supposedly been hiding, the building on Second Street had been vacant.
It was a fucking merry-go-round. Every lead put Charleston one step ahead.
The hours ticked by. By the end of the first day, they were damned tired.
And losing daylight.
“I say we call it,” Wallace said with a grimace.
Forty minutes later, they were back at the Seattle U.S. Marshals Office.
Wallace dropped into a chair in the conference room and rubbed a hand across the back of her neck.
The thought of getting back to the hotel room for some privacy sat paramount on Whip’s mind.
The conference room door opened.
Boone walked in with Davis close behind him.
Neither man looked particularly tired.
Which usually meant somebody else was about to be.
Boone waited until everyone settled down.
“We’ve got a break.”
That got Whip’s attention.
Davis tossed a manila folder onto the conference table.
“One of our confidential informants came through this afternoon. Oscar Charleston is attending a charity gala this Wednesday night.”
“On a Wednesday?” Knox sounded incredulous.
Cho snorted. “Around here, rich people don’t wait for the weekend to dress up.”
A few quiet chuckles circled the room.
