“If you say that one more time, I’m driving to the New Orleans bureau office and making an appointment to talk to Annabel Hicks. Call me crazy, but I’m willing to bet the ten bucks I have left to my name that’s she’s going to be interested in what I have to say.” He finished his coffee and decided to stop giving a fuck. Playing nice hadn’t gotten him anywhere, and it was time to make other plans.

He’d fallen for the bullshit these two had fed him when they’d approached him months before. Their plan, which involved Emma’s mother Carol, had seemed foolproof. They’d take Casey down, Carol would get what she wanted, and he’d get the credit for the bust. That feather would’ve come with major promotions at the NOPD. The one thing he should’ve considered wasn’t the future glory, but that it was Casey he’d be pitted against. Well, that and that their plan involved Carol Verde, that crazy bitch.

“Detective Newsome,” Special Agent Christina Brewer said, following him out. “Stop before things are said that we’ll all regret. Forget about what Barry told you, and tell me what it is you want.”

“How about a million dollars and I’ll make like the wind,” he said, making a sweeping motion with his hand. “You’ll never have to worry about me again.”

“What exactly do you think you’ve done to make you worth a million dollars?” Barry asked, coming out with his wallet in his hand. “You were given an assignment, you ad-libbed, and you fucked it up. You did a shitty job of keeping Carol Verde in line, and your mistake has put us back months.”

“You two didn’t do much better. You promised that crazy-ass bitch a lot of things you couldn’t deliver on, so don’t blame me. Your mistake was thinking Carol would be enough of a distraction to throw Casey off her game.” Elton took his keys out and moved toward his car. “All she wanted was that kid, so she could save her soul from the perverts, and she wasn’t sitting around waiting on your timeline.”

“You’re going to have to be patient, Elton. I understand what you want, but that’s not going to happen.” Barry reached over and took his hand, squeezing to the point of it being uncomfortable. “Believe me, if there’s something we can do for you, we’ll do it. Until then…” Barry let him go and moved so Christina could hand over an envelope.

He counted six hundred-dollar bills. “Is this a joke?” He laughed and slapped the envelope against Barry’s chest. “That won’t buy a tank of gas and groceries. If you’re going to lowball me, then you give me no choice but to move to greener pastures.”