She's My Kind of Rain (Sue Thomas FBEye)

Chapter Seven

Three days. Three long days.

Jack finally understood the meaning of 'You never know what you have until you lose it.' Not that he'd lost her. Sue was still in DC planning their wedding, but he missed her, he missed her more than he ever thought he could miss someone, and he couldn't wait to see her again.

After another long and frustrating day, he'd driven to his parents for the night, and for a few hours he'd forgotten about the case and talked about his future wife. But once alone in his childhood bedroom, work had reinvaded his thoughts.

From what he'd discovered, Mrs. Oliver Brewster had been ready to expose her husband's connection to a powerful mob boss. What that connection might have been or who was that mobster, nobody seemed to know. The woman had wanted insurance before she talked and the Marshall had been in the process to secure her admittance in the witness protection program. The personal notes the Marshall had kept were short and encrypted. He'd sent them to Tara, but she hadn't been able to make head or tail of them just yet.

Jack rubbed his temple. He had hit another dead end. His cell rang as he punched his pillow, searching for a comfortable position.

"Hudson."

"Hi mate. Did I wake you?"

"I wish. What's up?"

"I took Sue to the jewelry store and got her ring size."

"You didn't tell her which one I bought, did you?"

"Of course not. Give me some credit," Bobby said, feigning indignation.

"Crash, I know how persuasive Sue can be, and I wouldn't pass it by to her to try to pull the information out of you."

"She did try," he chuckled, "but I resisted her charm."

Jack smiled. "Glad to know that. Will the rings be ready in time?"

Bobby's laughter filled the handset. "Of course they'll be ready. I'll pick them up before I fly and protect them with my life."

"Good. Anything else?"

"Yes. If you don't like your shirt and tie, don't blame me. Against my best advice, your fiancée chose your tux."

Somehow that statement did nothing to reassure Jack. "That bad?"

"Hum...You'll see. Did you get my report on the car explosion?"

"Yes, and I talked to Myles. You made his day."

"What can I say? Bombers are creatures of habit. Once you know where to look, it's easy to find their signatures. At least it'll bring closure to his widow to learn her husband's killer is—"

"Widow? The Marshall had a widow?"

"Yeah...at least I think that's what Tara told me."

"Could you check with Tara, and get her to give me the widow's current address, please?"

"Sure. May I ask why?"

"Call it a gut feeling, Crash, but his wife may know things that never made it in any reports."

"Already thinking like a married man, aren't you?" Bobby teased.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Good night, Bobby."

***

Myles hated phone calls in the middle of the night—not because they woke him up, but because they rarely bore good news—and that one was no exception.