Page 96 of Hard Rain

Boone waited until everyone settled before dropping a thin file onto the table.

“For those wondering, Sissy Haskins surfaced last night—drunk off her ass with no memory of where she’d left her truck.”

Knox frowned. “How do you lose a truck?”

“Practice,” Axel answered.

Laughter circled the room.

“Now, Cutter.”

The room quieted.

“Our friends at the FBI caught a break late yesterday.”

Whip leaned forward.

Boone slid the photograph across the table. The baseball cap and sunglasses were meant to hide Cutter’s face, but they didn’t matter. Whip would’ve recognized the man from the shape of his shoulders alone.

“Looks like Cutter chartered a private plane yesterday afternoon,” Boone said. “It flew out of Redmond and landed at Renton Municipal.”

Knox stopped spinning his pen. “So, he’s in Washington.”

Boone gave Knox an exasperated look and kept going.

“Seattle’s task force has been working with the FBI on the trafficking organization tied to Cutter for months. They’ve already got eyes on the operation.”

Whip waited for Boone to get to the heart of it.

“They’re asking for the originating case team,” Boone said.

There it was.

Nobody knew Cutter’s habits better than they did.

“They want our case notes, interviews, witness statements, and us,” Boone continued. “We’ll coordinate through the Western District once we arrive.”

“When do we leave?” Axel asked.

Boone didn’t hesitate.

“Today.”

A slow grin spread across Knox’s face. “Seattle.”

“For a few days,” Boone scowled. “Pack enough clothes to look respectable.”

Knox looked down at his T-shirt.

“I thought this was respectable.”

Boone shot Knox a look that had the younger marshal’s throat bobbing.

“It isn’t,” Boone growled.

Beth snorted into her coffee.

Boone closed the file.