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“Just that she was a fool,” he says. “Per her, not me. And that ‘fool’ comment seemed to cut deep. It could be about a broken heart, but my gut tells me there’s more.”
“I need a number to contact,” I say. “Did they leave a card?”
“They flashed badges and I called them in before I let them take her. I can give you the main number, but it’s not going to get you anywhere.”
“I need that number,” I say, and he reaches in this pocket and hands me the card, flipping it over, to show me the handwritten number on the back. “I knew you’d insist.” He motions to the reception desk. “Use it or take my office. Whatever suits you.”
“We won’t be staying,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket and walking toward the reception desk while Royce glances at Lori. “Coffee?”
“No, thanks,” she says. “I’m a little too on edge. We just came from the DA’s office and he already called Reid. The settlement is done, verbally at least. Once we have the signed paperwork, we’re going to do a press conference with him.”
Meanwhile, I have a machine I’m dealing with, and a million options that promise a human on the other line. I try the one I think will work and end up on hold.
“Is he convinced you’ve backed off?” Royce asks Lori of the DA.
“Yes,” we both say at once, and she glances over her shoulder, giving me one of her perfect smiles. “And Cole was the perfect, angry husband who gave in for the love of his wife,” she adds.
“I suspect that wasn’t a hard job for him,” Smith comments. “Even I know that and I haven’t been around you two that much.”
“Is there a way to get to a real human, Royce?” I ask.
“I got there because one of the agents punched in a code,” he says. “I’ll get answers for you through my men. They’re unfortunately on high-risk jobs, and can’t call until they have a safe moment, but we have other men with connections. We’re working every angle. Go home. I’ll call you when we know something.”
“Make it soon,” I say, guiding Lori toward the door.
“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Lori says. “They just took her.”
“And I’m not sure we can save her.”
“Save her from what?” she asks. “What is this?”
I open the door to the car we have waiting for us. “I don’t know.”
Lori slides into the car and I join her, giving the driver the office address before dialing Reese. “Where are you?”
“At the office. Why?
“I need you. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Two hours later, Lori, Cat, Reese and I are all in a conference room with phones in hand trying to get answers. We get nowhere. It’s nearly ten when Royce calls and I put him on speaker. “Tell us something good.”
“It’s not good,” Royce says. “One of my men talked to an insider. She’s not even in the city any longer. He wouldn’t say what her status is, be it witness or suspect.”
“What if I hold a press conference?” I ask. “Will it pressure them to tell us where she’s at?”
“If you do that,” he says, “you tell the world her story that might be one she doesn’t want told. There’s more going on here than we know. Give us some time.”
Cat quickly chimes in with, “The media is brutal. This might be over in twenty-four hours, but this may haunt her much longer if you take it public.”
I share a look with Reese, who nods, before my gaze shifts to Lori, who nods, too. “Bluff, Royce. Tell them if I don’t hear from her in twenty-four hours, we’re going to the press. Tell them I only held off because you convinced me to.”
“The CIA doesn’t intimidate,” Royce warns.
Lori speaks up, “But they might not know what we know. And they might not want everything they think we know public.”
And there’s the reason she was made for a courtroom. She knows how to find an angle.
“I’m on it,” Royce says, hanging up.
