A perfect steering-wheel imprint had turned purple across Angus’s forehead, and a sling held his arm against his ribs. Even his eyes looked swollen. “The records and the cameras at the hospital, should Eddie somehow get his hands on them, will show that Sean checked himself out and hopped in a dented 1990 blue Kia driven by a young-looking brunette with big boobs.”

How was Angus even standing? Scolding him wouldn’t work, and they were under a time crunch. “The brunette is an agent?” Brigid asked.

“Affirmative,” Angus said. “Two other agents, one dressed as a doctor and the other a nurse, told Sean exactly what to do. Right now he’s in protective custody with medical assistance whether he likes it or not.”

Raider sighed. “We’re running out of time for those girls. It’s Tuesday, damn it.” He slammed his fist on the table.

Urgency propelled Brigid toward her computer room, and she tried not to feel guilty that she was happy Raider would have another night to heal before going undercover again.

“Your plan?” Angus called out.

She kept moving. “By the end of today, I’ll know every connection between Eddie Coonan and Senator Tyson as well as everything I can find in their respective backgrounds.” An entire day to herself in front of the computer was exactly what this case needed. “I may break a few laws.”

“I’ve got you covered,” Angus returned, his voice pained. “Do what you have to do.”

She paused at her doorway and partially turned. “Is my father really okay?”

Angus grinned, splitting his lip open again. Then he winced. “Your father is a pain in the butt to the two agents and one doctor staying with him, but yes, he’s safe.”

“Good.” Brigid opened her door, set down her coffee, and started to work three computers at once. Her phone buzzed, and she glanced down to see that it was Agent Rutherford calling. She ignored the call and turned back to learning everything she could about human trafficking while her other searches ran. Soon Agent Fields called, and she declined that call as well. She had much more important issues to work on than talking to those two.

What was there to report? HDD had been brought in on yesterday’s fiascoes.

The phone buzzed again, and her palms started sweating, but her typing didn’t slow. If she had something to report, she would. They needed to leave her alone.

Malcolm brought in tacos from home around noon, and she caught a glimpse of Nari walking by outside. Today the woman wore pressed gray jeans, a floral shirt, and designer boots. Brigid sighed and forced a smile for the ex-cop. “Thank you.”

He looked her over, set down the tacos, and took the other seat. “What is your problem with Nari?” There was mild curiosity but no judgment in his low tone.