Ava sauntered into Rafferty’s office, her package mixed with the empty boxes she had procured from the mail room. She gave Rafferty a sympathetic look as she handed him one of the boxes. “They’re letting you go,” more statement than question.
Rafferty opened a drawer and began emptying it into the box. “After ten years and a ninety percent case resolution rate,” he spat. He threw a handful of medals into the box. “You can bet your ass that Spence did a lot of arm twisting to get this through.”
Ava took her package to the filing cabinet, surreptitiously removed its contents, and placed them behind the container as she placed files into a box. “I’m going to miss seeing that pretty face,” she cooed, bringing the files to Rafferty. He gave her a peck on the cheek, gathered the boxes, and left.
The bomb exploded as Rafferty left the premises. He knew from the demolished section of the building where the blast had originated. He swore under his breath and sped off in his Aston Martin.
Rafferty was on his own.