Page 14 of Dozer

"We know there's something inside him that could expose an entire criminal network."

"Something." I look at him. I don’t like the unknown. “Inside of him?”

"Evidence."

"What kind?"

"That's what Kenzi is going to determine."

I look at the folder again.

"Then why me?"

"Because I want the body to reach D.C." His gaze doesn't leave mine. "And I want her to reach D.C. with it."

There it is, the unspoken part that matters. The body isn't the only thing Hunter is worried about. The woman is. I don't know her, but it is clear Hunter trusts and cares about her. That's enough to make me take the job seriously.

It's also enough to make me wonder exactly who the hell Kenzi Sullivan is.

"How good is she?"

Hunter doesn't hesitate. "Good, really damn good. The evidence is important. Listen, brother, I want you specifically for this job. You don't spook and you don't need things explained twice."

"Neither do most of the team."

"She's different."

That makes me frown. What am I missing here? "How?"

Hunter closes the folder. "She's brilliant."

"That's not an answer, Ruby is brilliant."

"It is when it comes to Kenzi." He moves toward the monitor and brings up her personnel file. He starts flipping through her photographs, credentials, certifications, education and government clearances. I’m impressed, but this career history doesn't match the woman in the photos.

Hunter glances from the screen to me. "She sees things other people miss."

"That's useful." What isn’t he telling me?

"She also has an unusually high tolerance for the unpleasant."

I look at the photograph on the screen. Kenzi Sullivan. She has dark hair and bright eyes that are impossibly teal. Her smile looks like trouble and she’s far from polished. I would expect more of a professional uptight look from someone with her history. The picture on the screen at the moment appears to have been taken during some kind of government event. She's wearing a blazer over a brightly colored graphic T-shirt with fishnet stockings and tall black boots.

Of course she is.

"She'll talk more than you're used to." He warns me.

"I figured."

"You’ll let her."

I look back at Hunter. "You've met me, right?"

"I have."

"Then you know I don't talk much."

"I've noticed."