“Traitor!” the deep voice whispered harshly in his ear.
“Who is this?!” Ezra demanded.
A loud, explosive noise followed by malevolent laughter was the response.
Angrily, Ezra slammed the phone back into its cradle and headed for his liquor cabinet. Crank calls were nothing unusual, but this was the third he had received in as many days and he was beginning to wonder if they were more than simple pranks. The first two calls had been the standard heavy breathing, with no words being spoken, and he had attributed it to bored teenagers. Tonight’s call, though, had caught his attention.
He had been called a traitor before, during his time with the FBI in Atlanta. Crank calls like the one he had just received had become an almost daily occurrence after the rumors about his collusion with the criminal element had begun. Since he had transferred to Denver, however, he had been blessedly free of such harassment – except for those unfortunate weeks four months ago, when his cousin Bradley had come to town. He had received a few ‘heavy breather’ calls then, too, as well as plenty of in-person hostility from his fellow agents. Ezra determinedly pushed those thoughts from his mind. That was not a place he wanted to go right now; the current situation was disturbing enough.
Pouring himself a glass of scotch, Ezra contemplated the possible reasons for the calls. He hadn’t, as far as he could tell, done anything that might incite someone to call him a traitor. It was possible that someone from his Atlanta days was in the area, but he doubted any of them would bother with such a childish display simply to annoy him.
Ezra strolled to the sofa, deep in thought. It all came down to the word “traitor.” Who, besides his former FBI associates, would use such a term to describe him? He mulled it over for a moment, then groaned aloud as one possibility occurred to him. He had made enemies over the years – it was the nature of his job – and often those who went to jail as a result of his undercover work felt betrayed. They had, after all, believed him to be on their side, and probably viewed him as a traitor of sorts. Perhaps one of them was making his displeasure known.
Ezra sighed and sipped his drink. The criminals he put away were not the sort to stop at mere phone calls. They usually had much more violent means of expressing their anger. If that were the case, he was going to have to take action before they did. Leaning back into the sofa cushions, he closed his eyes and grimaced at the thought of what Larabee would have to say.
Things had been rocky since the whole fiasco with his cousin. Ezra had found himself keeping a certain distance from his teammates. They had hurt him with their mistrust and he was finding it hard to allow himself to get close to them again. He had been thankful for long undercover assignments, since it gave him an excuse to turn down their invitations. He had gone out for drinks with Vin and JD a couple of times, but had shied away from any other group gatherings. His feelings were still too raw and it was going to take him time to learn to trust again.
To be continued