*Zac*
I'm sitting in my office, buried under a mountain of paperwork, when Sam Petersen strides in. I quickly rise to my feet, meeting his gaze, and we shake hands firmly.
"Zac, I just wanted to thank you personally for catching those men. We all appreciate your efforts," Sam says.
I nod, a modest smile playing on my lips. "Thank you, Sam, but I can't take all the credit. We don't work alone around here, you know."
Suddenly, it hits me like a bolt of lightning. I snap my fingers and exclaim, "Ohh!" I reach into my desk drawer, pulling out a silver flask. With a playful grin, I extend it to Sam. "Almost forgot, this belonged to Martin Espersen. Thought you might want to have it."
Sam takes the flask, a look of gratitude crossing his face. "You know what, son? I think Martin would have
