Professional Restraint

50 That Wasn't a Request

Liam

I can't take my eyes off of the pictures spread out before me on the boardroom table. All black and white in varying degrees of quality, spanning lord knows how long.

"Take your time," the FBI agent says from the far side. He's seated next to the police officer or moonlighting PI, depending on the day.

"Jeezus," Declan whispers, his fingertip on the corner of a photograph showing a woman mid ricochet after a hard face slap.

"That's not me," I growl, hating the look on my friend's face. "Hell, most of them aren't."

Picture after picture, I toss to the far end of the table, in the ever-growing pile of fakes. The small pile of pictures that are of me consists of shots of me arriving or leaving clubs.

The agent picks up one of the pictures taken from behind, showing off a man in a suit and the back of his head. Enough glancing detail to pass as me, but not it.

"And you're sure Mr. Anthony?" He shifts his dark, judgemental gaze up to me, then back to the photo. "There is certainly a resemblance..."

"For fuck's sake," Sophia snaps, storming over to the middle-aged man. "Can we not swap you for a female agent? 'Cause she would be able to spot the difference in a heartbeat!"

"Wait just a minute," he snaps back, face flushing red.

Sophia is unbothered by his outburst. She grabs his arm and drags him around the table. "Stay," she orders when I turn to face them.

From the same vantage point as the picture, I stay seated, letting her make her point.

"Yeah, we already know it looks right," the agent dryly replies.

"Would you look closer?!" She holds the picture up to the back of my head. "See the whirl patterns in the hair? The mouth breather in the picture has two on the back of his head. Liam? His are high on his crown, not visible with his hair cut."

On instinct, I try to turn and see what she's talking about, but she wretches my head back forward. Everyone shuffles behind me, taking a closer look.

"Well, I'll be damned," the agent mutters.

"The only photos I can vouch for are the ones I took," the PI says, throwing his palms up. "They all have my stamp and dates. The others were given to me as part of his ongoing investigation."

All eyes turn to the man as he squirms in his seat.

"Maybe, officer, you should have done your due diligence before handing over falsified records." The fed pinches his nose and sighs. "You realize I could have your badge for this, right?"

"Do you have what you need?" Declan cuts in, saving the withering PI. "This has already done incalculable damage. We'd like to work on fixing it."

"Understandable." The fed collects the photos into two piles and then gathers the files too. "I think we've got more than enough to work on here. We'll be in touch."

Declan holds the door wide, over the formalities and done with the bumbling law enforcement. He practically slams the door, leaving them with Todd to see them out.

"Unbelievable." He sighs, flops down in the nearest chair, and rubs his temples. "Honestly, I say we sick Soph on the case. It'll wrap up in no time."

She saunters over and caresses his chin as she walks by. "Aside from missing the picture details, the list of charges they've got against Russel is impressive. I don't think he'll see freedom for a very long time."