Her answer strangled in her throat, so she followed his directions and just nodded, her face warming from her neck to her forehead. Wolfe disengaged the call, so Dana waited a sec, said good-bye to the silence, and put her phone on her desk.

“Your mother?” Agent Fields asked dryly.

She cleared her throat and reached to pet Roscoe again.

Force strode out of his office toward the agents, and Roscoe stood again, his fur rising along his back. “Down, boy,” Force murmured, pausing by the dog. “Here’s the deal. We’re in the middle of a couple of those cases you shoved down our throats, and we don’t have time to chat today.” He looked over his shoulder at Brigid, who finally peeked out of her computer room. “Bridge? Would you create a schedule for everybody on the team to meet with these fine gentlemen—starting on Monday after we clear these cases?”

Rutherford’s patrician features darkened, and he stepped forward, stopping only when Roscoe growled a clear warning.

Fields sighed. “We need a better handle on what caused the explosion the other night.”

Force shrugged. “I’m no expert on explosions. We received an anonymous letter here at the office, didn’t really think it was true, and went to check out Frank Spanek just to make sure. Got there, knocked on the door, and the world pretty much volcanoed around us.”

“Where’s the letter?” Rutherford asked softly.

Dana listened intently. If this was the story, she wanted to remember it. Although, apparently, she wasn’t very good at playing this game.

Force winced. “It must’ve gotten caught in the fire. I haven’t seen it.”

“That’s handy,” Fields said, reaching into his pocket for a green sucker, unwrapping it and sticking it in his mouth.

“Not really,” Force countered, resting his hand on the vibrating dog. “I don’t know anything about the explosion other than it hurt to hit the wall on the other side of the hallway. Might’ve been motion activated, on a timer, or even detonated from afar. I really have no idea.”

Fields studied the assembled group. “All right. The rest of your team can wait until Monday, but you and Clarence Wolfe need to be interviewed today.”

Force turned on his heel. “You can interview me in my office. Wolfe is running errands, and you’re welcome to wait for him, but it might be a while.”

Rutherford looked around the small group. “I’d advise you all to remember that lying to federal agents is a felony, and I would love to prosecute every single one of you.”

Force halted at his office. “It’s now or never, gentlemen. I have a hot yoga class in an hour.”

Raider coughed out a laugh.

The two agents strode through the space, giving the dog a wide berth.