Cuff Lynx by Fiona Quinn Page A

his six-foot-three height.
    The prickle turned into a shiver as I repeated, “What happened next – after they changed the art?”
    Gater scraped his teeth over his lower lip. I couldn’t tell if he was moving through an internal timeline in order to answer me, or if he was considering how crazy my question sounded.
    The clang of elevator doors sliding open turned both our heads. Jack walked out, only a slight limp in his gait.
    Thank you, God . “I can’t believe it, miracle man. Look at you. How did they get you up so soon?” I hurried over and gave him a warm hug. “I didn’t think we’d be seeing you here for at least a few weeks.”
    “Yeah, well, I’m coming right from the hospital. I have to go by for check-ups every day.”
    I took a step back and considered him. “That sounds a little bit like you signed yourself out against medical advice.”
    “I was completely stir-crazy lying there. The doctors and I had a chat, and this is our happy medium.”
    “Because you probably intimidated the hell out them.” I cocked my head. “They said you could go back to work? I can’t imagine a scenario where that could be alright. You just got your chest tube out.”
    “Lynx, I appreciate the concern, I do, but I heal fast. They said I could come in for an hour or so if I’m sitting.” He draped his arm over my shoulder as we moved to the Puzzle Room door. “I’d appreciate it if you kept this to yourself, though. Suz would blow a gasket if she knew I was here.” He stopped with his hand on the knob and gave me a conspiratorial wink. “She thinks I’m in respiratory therapy, but that’s not until later this afternoon.”
    I could see the effects of Jack’s pain medication in his eyes. Even though I knew the hospital wouldn’t release him without a driver, I still needed to check that he had someone assigned until he was better. One traumatic event was more than enough.
    “But the best therapy for me is getting my mind back on the job,” Jack continued as he pushed the door open and took halting steps into the Puzzle Room. “I need to know what the hell happened out there. Have you been able to figure it out, Lynx?”
    “I think I figured out how the target and hostages died. The FBI gave the info to their hazmat analyst for confirmation. But I have no idea how the comms got screwed. Or how anyone would know how and where the team set up. The best I can figure is we have a mole.” I had to push those last words past a reluctant tongue.
    My mind went back to the conversation I had overheard between Leanne and the secretaries. If they talked that way off-campus, someone might be gathering the pieces and putting them together. I thought of the World War II posters, “Loose Lips Sink Ships” and “Tittle Tattle Lost the Battle.” Maybe we needed those displayed in the elevators. Probably not a good look for visiting contractors, though.
    “A mole here at Iniquus or at the FBI?” Jack asked, easing his giant frame down into my captain’s chair.
    “My guess is here at Iniquus. Though it kills me to say it.” I held the roller stool steady as he propped up his foot.
    Jack looked around to the corner where the dogs’ beds lay empty. “Where are Beetle and Bella?”
    “Training. The Millers wanted to use them to help the dogs Axel brought up from Honduras learn faster. You know, dog-to-dog mentorship.” I grinned.
    The door opened and the rest of the team swarmed in and set up shop. I wasn’t directly involved with the mission they were going to discuss. Mr. Spencer told Striker I was operating solo on a case. Apparently, that chat hadn’t gone well. Since I didn’t need to meet with Spyder until lunch, I offered to give the team my two cents as they planned today’s takedown. Another set of eyes and ears might help the mission succeed.
    “Striker’s not coming?” I asked.
    “Got hung up in the field this morning. He’ll be in soon,” Randy said.
    Ah, “the field.” That meant he was