Heat flushed her face, but she moved toward the box. So Wolfe’s team had no clue what he was doing. Figured. “The leather pants weren’t my idea, and his phone gets caught in the back pocket, so don’t ask me what he was thinking.”

Malcolm reached down and brought up two beers, tossing one to Wolfe and sliding one across the desk to her.

Force shook his head. “Wolfe? Leather pants?”

Heat suffused Dana’s back as Wolfe moved closer, reaching around her for a piece of pizza, the underside of his arm brushing hers. “The lady at the department store said they made my butt look good. So I bought them,” he drawled, his breath heating the nape of her neck.

“She lied,” Force drawled, his eyes narrowing. The guy was a former FBI profiler, one of the best before he’d gone off the rails, and he could probably see past Wolfe’s good ol’ boy facade. To his credit, he didn’t push. Yet, anyway.

Dana pulled out a chair and sat, munching happily on a slice of pepperoni. Someone had sprung for the good stuff from Palozzi’s.

Wolfe took the only other vacant seat. “Where’s the rest of the team?”

Malcolm took a big swallow of his beer. “Raider and Brigid are up north with her dad for the next few days, and our shrink is—”

“Right here.” Nari Zhang clip-clopped in kitten heels from case room two, her hands full of manila file folders. Her black hair swung around her shoulders, and she’d dressed for the evening meeting in dark jeans and a pale yellow silk shirt, which made her dusky skin glow. “I’ve been going through these and have added notes and profiles where necessary.” She handed the stack to Force and leaned over to secure a piece of veggie pizza. “I think a lot of this is busywork.”

Force nodded, his jaw hardening. “Yeah. We pissed off our Homeland Defense handlers last month, and apparently they’re trying to get even.” He sighed, tossing a couple of folders toward Wolfe. “We all have assignments, and for now, we’re going to have to play nice.”

Wolfe tapped his finger on the top folder. “I don’t play nice.”

“Agreed,” Force said, pushing more folders toward Malcolm. Then he grinned. “The good news is that, with this caseload, I said you needed a research assistant, and we can actually pay Dana to work with you this time. She’s been a valuable asset and hasn’t sold us out, so we’re happy to have her onboard.” He winked at her. “Welcome to the team. Oh. You have to sign a nondisclosure agreement. You know, since you’re a nosy journalist and all.”