The guy’s name was Ray Anderson and he had retired from the U.S. Marshals when Bryce was still collecting Pokémon cards. Bryce and Ray had never met, but Ray’s name was all over the Conti paperwork, so he figured the old-timer might be able to shed some light on the situation. Bryce wanted to do something to help out Angie, though his motives were not a hundred percent altruistic.He was smitten, no two ways about it. Angie was the package—able, beautiful, and confident, the ABCs to Bryce’s heart—but it was more than just pheromones working overtime. He felt they had a lot in common, the important things. They were cut from the same cloth. The job was a calling, a passion for each. You had to be like Angie to truly understand a woman like her, and Bryce got it. He lived it, embodied it. They were members of the same tribe, like with like.But anything having to do with Angie would have to play out sometime down the road. It wasn’t the time for the Bryce Taggart’s Woo Machine to go fully operational.
