“Wonderful,” she snapped. How the heck was she going to keep this team together and employed? They really had done good. A lot of it. She scrambled to find a solution. “How long do we have a lease for this, um, office?” The place was depressing, but they had managed to spruce it up a little.

Rutherford shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll use it for something else.”

Wolfe snorted, his bourbon-colored eyes piercing. “Right. Like you could talk anybody else into working in this crappy dump.”

A tech with a box moved toward the hub, and Wolfe stiffened, lowering his chin. The guy stopped cold and looked toward Rutherford for help.

Nari cleared her throat. There had to be a way to get through this without anybody being punched in the face. “Everyone relax.” What the heck were they thinking, just showing up in the midst of a volatile bunch of armed alpha males?

Her phone buzzed, and she looked down to scan an email telling her to report to headquarters in an hour. Her stomach dropped.

Fields cleared his throat, his gaze on Roscoe. “It’s done, Agent Zhang. The deal was for a year.” He turned and faced Angus across the bullpen. “In one year you haven’t found one iota of proof to show that Henry Wayne Lassiter is alive, because he isn’t. It’s a fact, and it’s time to move on.”

“A body was found last night,” Angus retorted, his thick, dark hair mussed and his deep, green eyes glittering. “Most of the scene was a flashback to Lassiter’s work.”

Finally, Rutherford let a small smile lift the corner of his lip. “The Metro police have a guy in custody for last night’s crime. Ex-boyfriend of the victim who thought that copying a serial killer would lead police in the wrong direction.”

“I want to talk to him,” Angus said, pushing away from the doorframe.

“You no longer work for the HDD,” Rutherford returned. “Or the FBI. Or anybody, to be honest. Go back to your cabin in the Kentucky woods with your mentally challenged canine.”

The temperature in the entire bullpen rose. Fast and hot.

Nari stepped closer to Roscoe and patted his head. He dropped his butt and sat, staring intently at the agents. “Insulting the dog is a big mistake, Agent,” she murmured. Oh, the dog didn’t understand, but Angus was two seconds from going for Rutherford’s throat, and he could probably get across the room in a heartbeat.

Roscoe snarled.

Maybe he did understand. Nari dug her fingers into his fur to calm him. He was probably picking up on the high tension level in the room.

Fields motioned for the techs to get to work. “We should be done within a couple of hours.”