She set the phone down and knocked her head against the cupboard. Life sucked.

Once she could breathe again, she moved like an old woman to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Raider would soon be there to pick her up, and he’d see the sleepless night on her face. She’d worried about her father all night.

After quickly getting ready, she waited for Raider, who seemed to be in his own head for the morning. The drive to work was blissfully silent, though she’d admired his strong hands on the steering wheel for much too long. When she walked into the dingy HDD offices, she was pathetically grateful for the sugar-laden lattes already waiting.

She took a latte off the battered first desk, the one that Wolfe had claimed. The room was vacant, though. “I don’t see why you always have to drive,” she said, taking a big drink, now ready to engage in dialogue.

Raider eyed the remaining drink. “It’s my truck.”

Yeah, but something told her he’d want to drive even if it was her vehicle. “I think you’re a control freak.”

“Okay.” He’d dressed down today in a plain black T-shirt and jeans, and his body looked harder than ever. “I can live with that.”

Her gray T-shirt illustrated a joke about string theory with a puppy all wrapped up in string.

Wolfe strode out of the second case room, with Kat perched on his shoulder. “They’re almost ready. Nari was up all night adding your records to Force’s and Dana’s, and they have a good slide show ready to go.” He tilted his head toward the remaining latte, his dark eyes even darker than usual. “That’s yours, Raider.”

“Thanks.” Raider took the drink and swirled it around, watching the whipped cream. “Appreciate it.” He barely hid his wince.

A side door opened, and Malcolm West and the very petite Nari Zhang strode out of Nari’s office. Malcolm was their field specialist, and Nari their shrink.

“Morning,” Nari said, her black hair in a ponytail and her pretty brown eyes studying them. For casual Saturday, she’d dressed in cream-colored slacks and a pretty floral blouse with silver jewelry.

Brigid tugged on her T-shirt. She always felt frumpy next to the fashionable psychiatrist. Even the woman’s ankle boots were an off-cream with cool green accents, which gave her a couple extra inches in height. She still looked dainty next to Malcolm.