Page 7 of Broken Wheels
And probably fucking enjoy every minute.
It wasn’t until Dix walked away that Doc’s words of a moment ago truly sank in.
Wait—he has an ex?
Doc is gay?
Doc must have really scrambled Dix’s circuits if he’d missed that part. He was kinda relieved. Nothing worse than having lustful thoughts for a straight man. Only now he was thinking about Doc in some other guy’s arms.
Nope. Not gonna go there.
Dix didn’t know anything about the guy, but was it wrong to hate him? Just a little?
Anyone who’d let Doc walk away needs their head examined.
Chapter 3
Josh put the document down and rummaged through his box of papers until he found the one he needed. He was grateful to—What was his name again? Oh yes, Dixon—for helping him gather up the documents. If he hadn’t, Josh could have lost what had taken him weeks and about thirty thousand dollars to acquire. As much as he loathed the thought, he was grateful to General Porter. Once Josh had discovered that people could be bought easily, he’d been able to get his hands on a few circuits from the missile they’d used to destroy his car. CrossBow had been informed the fragments had “vanished,” except it was more likely Porter had stepped in and made them disappear. Josh had gotten the pieces from a collector on the police force. Small things he’d find after a crime—stuff he knew wouldn’t be missed—made their way into his collection.
I really should speak with Gary about this.
Yeah, no. Josh was treading a fine line.
His internal voice piped up: Excuse me? You crossed that line already. His initial agreement with the government had been forty-six pages long, and it spelled out in precise terms that Josh wasn’t allowed to hack, wasn’t allowed to talk with any of his former basement-dweller buddies—as the government referred to them—and was definitely not allowed to involve himself in any sort of illegal activities. At all.
That went out the window when someone killed Richie Brightmore, assassinated Hank and Benny, two other CrossBow agents, and tried to kill Michael Kennedy and Abbas Kazem. Then Porter had gotten his hands dirty. Gary Cross, one of the best friends Josh had ever found, who’d given him a floor for Research and Development, who let Josh tinker on whatever he wanted, almost died at the hands of a so-called rogue general.
Sure, Josh had given Gary money to buy the new CrossBow building. And yeah, he made sure there was a supply of money available should they need it. So what? Money didn’t mean a whole lot to Josh, so he was happy to do it. Still, Porter had caused multiple problems and had been responsible for too much pain.
But he can’t do that anymore, can he?
There were things Gary didn’t need to know, because they’d only upset him. So Josh kept quiet about going into some networks and finding pictures of Porter in his prison cell, his hands cuffed to a chair and a single gunshot wound to the head, execution-style. Josh studied the photos with the same degree of interest he’d employ when watching the dissection of a worm. Sure, one might feel bad for the worm, but if it had been the cause of so much anguish, then it needed to be stomped out.
With steel-toed, cleated boots.
The document forgotten, he went to a cabinet, unlocked it, and removed the recently acquired fragments from the missile. He could see why they didn’t want any of this stuff getting out. The wiring alone would have led them to Porter’s doorstep, since the serial numbers and codes imprinted on it were tied directly to the military. Even if they’d been stolen, it would have opened up the entire Abbas case to new scrutiny, which Josh was pretty sure Porter couldn’t have afforded.
He grunted. If we’d gotten this earlier, maybe all those people would still be alive. He sincerely doubted that whomever Porter was working for would have allowed that kind of slip-up. The man had been smart, though, getting cops to accept bribes to quash or even destroy evidence. Gary had said the police department rooted out sixteen people who’d been involved, and were investigating another forty.
How deep does the corruption run?
Josh didn’t have time for such thoughts. He had work to do.
He examined the debris under the microscope, making notes on his pad as he went along, fascinated by the complexity of the wiring?—
A soft thunk startled him.
Josh straightened, turned, and found Dixon behind him, smiling.
“Was there something you wanted?” He frowned. “You only just saw me a moment ago.”
Dixon bit back a smile. “That was two hours ago.” He gave a cough and inclined his head toward the counter.
Josh glanced at the apple fritter, bottle of orange juice, and fruit cup. “What’s this?”
Dixon cleared his throat. “I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you didn’t eat today.” His eyebrows shot up. “Or am I wrong?”
Josh cocked his head. Did I eat this morning? He’d gotten up early, eager to get to his lab. He remembered showering. Or was that yesterday? Or maybe the day before? Just how offensive was his odor? He resisted the urge to lift his arm and sniff his pit to find out, but he needed to know.