The Inspector—a wiry haired, fifty two year old alpha—reached out, vigorously shaking Oliver’s hand.
“Thank you, sir,” he said, clutching his wrist as the Inspector let go.
“I’d like you to meet Detective Sergeant White from the Metropolitan Police.” He opened his hands as though presenting a prized pig. “He works for the Special Branch in London. Catches drug smugglers and the like.”
Oliver stared at the sergeant’s chest, somewhere between his sternum and his throat. His tie hung loose, the top twobuttons of his shirt undone, letting his collarbones peek through.Scandalous, really.
“We’ve met,” the alpha said. “Albeit briefly. Just call me Lucas.”
Oliver nodded, finally meeting his gaze. “Oliver. Or, Ollie. Whichever is fine.”
Perhaps it was the man’s overwhelming presence, or the way his hazel eyes held Oliver’s for just a touch too long; but something about the alpha made him want to curl up into a ball in the corner of the office. A truly unique sensation, given that Oliver was prone to butting heads with the patriarchal over-lords of their society. He blamed his omega side for his current reaction.Man alive, his wolf needed a run.
“Nice to meet you, Oliver. Again.” Andfuckif his name didn’t sound salacious coming from the alpha’s lips. Oliver nodded, pretending to smooth out a wrinkle in his own baby-blue tie.
“How can I help, boss?” He said, gaze drifting back to the Inspector.
Callahan nodded, gesturing for him and Lucas to sit. So Oliver did. He sat perfectly straight-backed in the uncomfortable plastic chair and paid absolutelyno mindto how their knees touched. Absolutely no mindwhatsoever.
“Oliver, DS White and his team need your help.”
“My help, Sir?”
The Inspector nodded.
“Without sounding obstructive, what could the Special Branch need withme? We deal in child protection, not international gangs. I don’t even carry a taser.”
The Inspector lifted a hand in a placative gesture. “Calm down, Detective. I’m not about to send you on a jaunt across Europe. It’s about one of your kids.”
Oliver’s stomach sank. “Which one?” He looked up at Lucas with hard eyes.
“Helena Cartwright,” he replied, eyebrows raising ever so slightly.
If it was at all possible, Oliver’s stomach sank even lower. Helena Cartwright had been one of his most troublesome cases to date. Though, now an unsettled twelve-year-old, he had known her for several years. Abused by her heroin addicted omega mother and taken on drug runs with her piece-of-shit beta step-father. Oliver checked in with her every few months, but she had recently stopped answering his calls.
“Shit. What’s happened now?”
Lucas slid a manila envelope into Oliver’s lap. “It’s all in there,” he said. “We recently apprehended her in a car containing a major player in one of our German operations.”
“Fuck. Is she safe?” Oliver covered his mouth as the expletive slipped out. However, the ghost of a smile made the alpha’s lip twitch.
“She is now. She’s back at the Safe Haven care home.”
“And you want me to talk to her? Introduce you?”
Lucas nodded. “Yes. We’re hoping she’ll agree to an interview.”
Oliver studied Lucas’ face. “She won’t like that,” he said. “Won’t like that one bit.”
The Inspector leant forward and tapped the back of his hand. “Which is why they needyou, DC Reed. Work your magic, help build rapport. You know, all that jazz.”
Oliver wanted to say he’d need a little more than magic fucking jazz hands to convince Helena Cartwright to speak to the police again. But if the request was coming from his Inspector, could he really refuse?No.The answer was always no.
“Alright…” he said, voice trailing off as he met Lucas’ gaze.
“Excellent!” The Inspector said, clapping his hands. “Just think of it as a little cross-border project.”
Oliver bought morebiscuits on his way home. Partially because he’d skipped lunch, but mostly due to his thoughts rattling around in his brain like a bunch of marbles. The bus journey lulled him into a contemplative trance, so much so that his temple smacked against the metal hand rail as the number four bus came to an abrupt halt.
