Director Casey’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He hesitated to interrupt dinner with his wife, but with so much on the line he had to check. “I know what I got myself into,” Jo said. With her warm and wry smile she waved him off to take the call. “Go on and do your thing.” Standing, Thomas rounded the table, bent down and brushed his lips across her soft cheek. “These days are numbered, I promise,” he whispered against her ear. She only grinned at him as he made his way out of the dining room. The display on his phone showed a missed call from Deputy Holt but no message. That likely meant they had problems on an operation. Thomas returned the call, cautiously hopeful the news wouldn’t be awful. “I know you’re at dinner,” Emmett began, “but this couldn’t wait.” “Fill me in,” Thomas ordered, braced for the worst after hearing the gravity in his deputy’s voice.
