Force snorted and kicked out his legs. The bottle rolled across the floor to hit the desk. “Where’s Roscoe?”

“Sleeping it off out in the main room. You gave him booze?” Wolfe tried to keep from sounding judgmental but failed.

“No.” Force looked around, blinking. “I thought I’d finished this bottle, but maybe not.” He dropped his head into his hands, a massive man with guilt pouring from him. “Lassiter is out there. He’s killing and we’re not finding him, so he’s killing more. I just know it.” His voice was gritty, tortured.

“There’s no proof the guy is alive.” Wolfe reached for a latte and nudged it against Force’s hand.

“I know he is.” Force lifted his head and took the sugary drink, downing half of it in one gulp.

Wolfe nodded, working his way through his own whipped cream. The stuff didn’t taste nearly as good as it did on Dana’s skin. Damn it, he needed to focus. He trusted Force’s instincts almost as implicitly as he did his own. “If Brigid hasn’t found a line to Lassiter, there isn’t one. Is he really that good?”

“Yeah.” Force finished the drink and then winced. “He’s that good, and I’m not the man I was five years ago. Not even close.”

Wolfe could see that. “You have a good team this time, though. Together, we’ll find the guy.” If he was alive.

Force wiped a sprinkle off his bottom lip. “That’s a lot of sugar.”

“Only the best for you.” Wolfe drank his latte more slowly, feeling back in control, finally. “Have you, maybe, thought of talking to Nari about everything?” The shrink was smart and often helpful.

Force stiffened and sat up straighter. “No.”

Okay. Well, then. Wolfe had learned at an early age not to try to run through a brick wall, so enough of that. “This isn’t good, man. You have to stop with the Jack.” And the Johnny, Bud, and Jose.

Force nodded, looking green. “Yeah. Got it.”

Enough of the lecture. “Thanks for bringing Dana on board.” Was Force trying to matchmake?

Force nodded. “I figured you’d need her with Bridge and Raider gone, and frankly, she’s pretty darn good at research. Are you two fuckin’ or what?”

“Mind your own business,” Wolfe returned.

Force sighed. “What a disaster.”

Wasn’t that the damn truth?

* * *

Dana tugged her blouse into place, sitting in the passenger side of Wolfe’s truck on the way to work. He must’ve returned sometime during the night but had slept on the sofa. Nope. She wasn’t hurt by that at all. Ugh. “I can get my own ride to work, you know?” She eyed the way-too-sweet latte already waiting for her in his cupholder.

He banked left and drove around a hearse. “I know, but I figured you’d want support for your first Monday morning.”