"Are you f*****g serious?" Anderson demanded. "I'm an agent just like you, asstwist. Knock it off with the 'FBI' crap and stow the gun. I'm reaching for my badge." He pulled it from the inner pocket of his blazer. "BPSI, Agent Anderson Meadows. Who are you? You don't work in my department." He lifted his brows when the man neither replied nor lowered the gun. "Lower the gun."
Martinez came rushing up, pushed the man's arm down. "It's fine. He's an agent. What the f**k are you doing here, Meadows?"
"My job," Anderson replied. "You?"
"My job," Martinez mimicked in a high-pitched tone. "Stern sent me here to collect a witness. Why are you horning in on my case?"
Anderson's brows rose again. He was supposed to be having office s*x. With Lynn in panties. Why was he putting up with stupid f*
