Jamie Brodie 01 - Cited to Death

called your supervisor this morning and told her what happened. She was appropriately horrified and said to take as much time as you need."
    "Mmf. I forgod 'boud work."
    "Well, I had to call in for myself, so it occurred to me to call in for you, too." He settled back and gestured to Tim. "Go on."
    "There's not much else to it. He couldn't give us a much better description than you had of this Ed guy. White, medium height, medium build, brown hair, no scars, marks or tattoos that he could see. He did swear that he didn't know anything about messing with your office or computer, and I believe him. This guy's not smart enough to be a hacker."
    Kevin looked grim. "So we're not much further along now than we were."
    "But we've made a little progress. And that's better than nothing, which is what we had before." Tim stood up. "I'm going to take some pictures of you, if you don't mind, while you look your worst. We can use them as evidence in our case against this guy's accomplice when we find him."
    I shrugged. "'Kay."
    He took several pictures of my face from every angle imaginable. He also took pictures of the bruises on my abs and ribs, which had bloomed up nicely. He finished up and stepped back. "Okay. The robbery guys are still talking to our bad guy, but I don't think there's anything else he can tell us. But if there is, I'll let you know." He smiled at me sympathetically. "We'll figure all this out. No worries."
    Kevin reached out and hugged me gently. "Please behave. Do what Pete tells you to do. Okay? Please?"
    "Mmm hmm. Don' dell Dad."
    "Oh, hell no. I'm gonna tell him we got the guy that broke into our place, and that's all." Kevin stepped back, but kept his hands on my shoulders. "I'll talk to you later."
    "'Kay."
    We saw them off. I sank back down onto the sofa and picked up my shake. The oxycodone was starting to help, and my head wasn't pounding as hard.
    Pete sat down with me. "They're coming to fix the window this afternoon." He brushed my hair back from my forehead. "You really do look awful. I’m gonna clean up the kitchen.” He went up the stairs.
    I drank more shake and set it on the ottoman, within reach. I leaned back and was overcome with a wave of emotion and exhaustion. I was beaten. They, whoever they were, had beaten me up, burned all my stuff, hacked my computer, and disabled my car. They'd succeeded in disabling me. I'd thought it was an intellectual puzzle that I could handle on my own. I was wrong.
    The pain was messing with my emotions. Tears started leaking out of my eyes and running across the cuts on my cheekbones. It stung.
    "Ow."
    Pete had gone into the kitchen when Kevin and Tim had left. Now he looked down at me and didn't like what he saw. He hurried down the stairs and sat down next to me. "What's wrong?"
    "Everyding." I lifted my t-shirt to dab at my eyes. "Ow."
    Pete didn't say anything. He scooted over and wrapped his arms around me.
    Oh my God. I needed this. I needed him. I cried harder. It hurt my ribs and abs, too. "Ow, ow, ow."
    To his credit, Pete didn't laugh. He just hugged me and rubbed my back. It was soothing. I calmed down a little bit and tried to regroup. "Sorry. Sorry."
    "It's okay." Pete moved back a bit and pulled a tissue from the box on the ottoman, then started patting my face gently, drying it. "It's okay. Everything you've been through, you deserve a good cry. Most guys would have been on their knees long before this."
    "Huh." I took the tissue from him and wiped my nose. "Don' know 'boud dad."
    "I do." Pete brushed my hair off my forehead. "You're a tough guy. You come from a family of tough guys. There isn't anyone I'd rather have at my back in any situation than you. Or Kevin."
    I shook my head. "'M nod Kebin."
    Pete smiled. "No, you're not, and thank God for that, right?"
    I laughed a little and shook my head again.
    "Really." Pete was serious again. "Kevin's bigger than you, and he's obviously been trained as a cop, but you and he are made out of the same stuff. The right stuff, if you want to coin a phrase."
    I leaned back and sighed. "'D he ever dell you 'boud our name?"
    "Nope. What about it?"
    "Brodie. Comes from Bridei." I spelled it for him. "Kings of the Pic’s in Scodlan’. Seben ob 'em. Warriors."
    Pete grinned. "I'm not surprised. Warrior kings, eh? Very cool."
    I sniffled a little.
    "And their California descendants are warriors, too, right? Warriors for truth and justice."
    "Heh." I looked away from him. "But dis dime id's nod