Gene grunted by way of reply. He saw his brother seething at Renner as Paul walked toward the group. "Marty!" he yelled to grab his attention away from Paul. "You're driving car two."
Marty snapped out of his funk and caught the keys that Gene had thrown at his face. "Yeah, whatever." He turned to his assigned vehicle, got in, and slammed the door. Gene turned his attention elsewhere.
Once inside the SUV, Marty looked at the keys in his hand, then realized the car was already warmed up and idling. What'd he do, throw me his house keys? Marty dropped the keys into the cup holder as his brother's voice blurted orders through the COM.
"Renner, you and I are riding with Doug. Brent, Bates, you're with Marty. Traffic's picking up; let's move out."
The team piled into the big black SUVs as ordered. In Marty's auto, Carl got in the back, put on some earphones, and settled back to snooze on the way. Jerri hopped into the front seat and smiled. "Morning, guys! Did you get any sleep?"
Carl cracked an eye open and smiled back. "Not much, but I'm going to add to it, starting now." He turned up the volume on his iPod and his eye closed again. Marty couldn't tell what Carl was listening to, but he could hear the bass from the front seat.
"How about you?" she said to Marty as they pulled out.
"Not really," Marty said without looking at her. "No."
"I'm wide awake. Want me to drive?"
As the car stopped at the garage exit, he looked at her with anger in his eyes. "Do you honestly think I don't know what's going on?"
Jerri raised an eyebrow. "Marty, what are you talking about?"
"You and that goddamned killer. I saw the way you were looking at him yesterday." He kept his voice low and kept checking the rear-view to make sure Carl wasn't listening. He appeared to be fast asleep.
"Excuse me," Jerri said, frowning. She counted off points on her fingers. "First of all, it's none of your goddamn business what I do. Second, you're not as smart as you think you are. Empathy is a strong part of interrogation, Marty, and building a bond with Paul might help us nail him. Sam recorded that whole conversation. And third, did I mention it's none of your business?"
"Oh come on, Jerri." Marty scoffed. "It's the whole team's business. If you need a personal life outside of work, by all means have one. But this is the D Street Killer." He emphasized each word with a fist to the dashboard. "You've seen what he leaves behind, the lives he's destroyed. I don't know how you can look at him without wanting to puke, much less want to fuck him."
"You're an asshole, Marty," Jerri said. "Besides, what if I were stupid enough to fall for him? Why would that give you the right to act like a jealous ex-boyfriend?"
"Because…." He struggled to find the words. "I don't have the right. And I am fucking jealous. Of everyone you give your attention to."
"Marty, I don't—" she began, but he cut her off.
"And I know that son-of-a-bitch is going to hurt us, Jerri. I don't know when, and I don't know how, but when you make a deal with the devil, you never fucking win. That motherfucker is a fucking monster, and you hold his goddamn hand and give him a fucking ride."
"Christ, Marty. He saved your life yesterday."
"Don't start with that shit." Marty's lips pulled back in a sneer. "My life wouldn't have been in danger if we'd busted him when we had the chance. Mark my words, Jerri, the second the chance shows up again, that fucker is mine. I just hope it happens before one of us gets killed."
"You're overreacting. Paul's—"
Marty cut her off. "You know what? Just stop talking. We have nothing to say to each other." He punched on the radio and turned it to a morning news station.
Jerri turned to the window. They rode in silence through a darkened landscape.
* * *
January 10th, 7:30 AM EST; Home of Abraham Lefkowitz, M.D.; Manassas, Virginia.
Doctor Abraham Lefkowitz left his house followed by a car that contained a pair of goons in dark suits. Marty was an excellent tail, so Gene let that part of the operation leave his mind. Through Sam, the local police verified that the bodyguards in the house were still there; the guys in the car were new. Gene pulled up to the front of the house, parked the car, and got out.
"Guards have seen you," Sam said.
"Roger that," Gene said.
Gene limped up to the door with Jerri, Paul, and Carl behind him and pushed the doorbell. The door opened. A man nearly as tall as Doug looked down at Gene. "Yes?" he said in a deep baritone.
Gene held up the warrants and his FBI ID. "I'm Special Agent in Charge Giancarlo Palomini of the FBI. I have a warrant to search this household, as well as to detain and search any and all persons found therein. Please have the rest of your crew come to the foyer and disarm themselves."