He gestured toward one of the two rickety chairs on the other side of his dented desk. “Have a seat.” He might as well make use of her since she was there. “How is the team doing?”

“Not well.” She crossed her legs, and he fought a groan at the graceful movement. “Malcolm is staring at his phone, Brigid is yelling at her computers, Raider is silent in case room two, Dana looks like she was hit by a bus, and Roscoe keeps trying to filch whipped cream from everyone.”

Sounded like a normal day to him. “I assume Pippa is at home working?” The woman did some sort of online accounting and seemed to keep busy.

“Yeah, with Kat.” Nari’s small nostrils flared as she breathed deep and slowly let the air out. “Shouldn’t we have heard something from Wolfe and Jethro by now?”

Yes. Angus schooled his face to show no emotion. “No, maybe not. Keep in mind that anything might’ve altered their plan.”

“Like getting shot?” Nari asked.

“Don’t borrow trouble.” That was his job. There was an edge in his voice that crept in any time he talked with the shrink. She worked for HDD and not him. “I’m sure you’ve been in contact with our HDD handlers, and I know they want to interview us. What have you told them?”

She flushed. “I’ve been avoiding their calls, too. We need to pull the entire team together and come up with a reason you two were at Frank Spanek’s apartment right when it blew up.”

Wait a second. She’d been avoiding them, too? He never could judge her allegiances easily, but now wasn’t the time to try to figure her out. He reached for the plain coffee he’d bought on the way in to work, not having to hide it since Wolfe was out of the office. “We received an anonymous tip that Frank Spanek was trafficking heroin, which, incidentally, was actually true.”

Nari bounced her shiny black high heel on the leg that was crossed. “How did we receive this tip?”

Good question. Phone records could be tracked. “Letter sent here. Wolfe took it to the apartment.”

Her pink lips pursed. “Ah. So it was blown up in the explosion?”

“Exactly.” It didn’t matter if the HDD handlers believed the Deep Ops team had been out of line; it mattered that they couldn’t prove it. That bobbing foot and slender ankle were going to drive him crazy.

“All right. I don’t suppose we took a copy of the letter, as protocol would more than likely dictate?” she asked.