by Carsen Taite
Jack looked at the stack of files on her desk and raised his eyebrows in question. “Yes,” she said. “That’s part of it. Go ahead, take a look.”
He pulled the files toward him and flipped the first one open. His expression didn’t change, but she detected a subtle increase in the pace of his breathing as he flipped through the pages. “Are these officers who used the agency?”
“Yes. Those are the repeat customers.” She pointed at another stack. “The one-offs are over in this pile.”
“Some of these officers are very powerful people. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Want to? No, but I don’t see that I have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
He was right. She could disobey Sharp’s orders and refuse to work on the case, a move that would send her career tanking. Of course, confronting some of the people on this list might have the same effect, but at least she’d have answers. Mitchell had been in trouble, and she’d ignored his cry for help. Now he was dead and if she didn’t follow the lead he’d left, his death would be on her conscience for the rest of her life.
* * *
Rook paced her office, unable to concentrate on anything else while she waited for Eric to crack the code he’d found in Mitchell’s letters.
“You’re wearing a hole in the carpet,” Lacy called out from the doorway.
“He said a few hours and it’s been four.”
“It’s been less than three hours total and we had to get the computer, that was one. He’ll be done any minute. Genius takes time.” Lacy picked up the coffee mug from the edge of her desk. “No more of this stuff until we have some answers.”
Rook started to protest, but Lacy was right. She was so amped up on caffeine and adrenaline she was due for a crash any moment. She needed something to keep her mind busy until Eric was done. “Can you try to reach Major Granger again?”
“I’ve called twice, but she’s been in meetings. Have you tried sending her a text?”
Rook sighed. She’d called Zoey several times since she’d insisted on leaving last night, but all she got was the canned outgoing voice mail message that came standard with every phone, and her texts had gone unanswered. She’d resorted to having Lacy try to reach her, but apparently that was a dead end too. Zoey was either cutting her out of the investigation or cutting her off personally or both—neither of which were good. She started to insist Lacy try her one more time, but the sound of Lacy’s desk phone ringing cut her off. “Maybe that’s her.”
“Hang on.” Lacy picked up the call from Rook’s desk. “Daniels Agency. How may I direct your call?” A few beats of silence passed and Lacy shook her head in Rook’s direction. “Yes, Senator. She’s right here. One moment.” Lacy punched the hold button and held out the phone. “Senator Newman. His office has just been informed that a grand jury has been convened in Columbus to look into the death of Sheila Edgar.”
“Talk about bad timing. He needs a lawyer.”
Lacy shook the handset. “Uh, last I checked you were a lawyer.”
“A real lawyer. You know, the kind that actually goes to court and does lawyer things.”
“Dammit, Rook, he needs you. Even if he’s looking at criminal charges, make that especially if he’s looking at criminal charges. He’s going to need you to handle the fallout.”
Rook shot a look at the office door. “I can’t leave right now. What if Eric finds something or Zoey—Major Granger calls?”
“It’s an hour flight. I’ll book you a private plane. You’ll be there in no time, hold his hand, and fly back in the morning or tonight if you can stay awake that long. Take Harry and then Harry can stay over and babysit.”
Rook took the phone. She barely got two words out before Newman’s panic took over. What if an arrest warrant was issued? What if the sheriff showed up at his office or, God forbid, one of the many functions he had scheduled with his constituents this week?
She let him ramble on for a few minutes, but cut him off when she couldn’t take it any longer. Lacy was right. It would be much easier to calm him down and control the damage in person. As much as she trusted Eric’s expertise, she also believed he’d exaggerated a bit when he said he could write a program and crack a code in a few hours. Taking care of Newman might be the perfect solution to her growing impatience at not having answers and not hearing from Zoey. Decision made, she injected her voice with calm and said, “Senator, I don’t think you have anything to worry about, but I’m going to fly out to help you through this. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
By the time Rook combed her hair, brushed her teeth, and squirted eye drops in her eyes, George was waiting to take her and Harry to the airport. On the drive, she tried one last text to Zoey, abandoning all pretense that she was trying to get in touch with her for professional reasons.
I’ll be out of touch for a while. Miss you. I have no regrets. Hope you don’t either. Talk to you soon.
She spent the rest of the ride to the airport pretending she wasn’t waiting for a response, which was just as well since none came. It was for the best. She needed to focus on Senator Newman’s problems and then clear her head for whatever Eric found. The next few days were going to be busy and she needed to be at her top form, not mooning over some infuriating woman, even if that woman was super attractive, captivating, and one of the best kissers she’d ever met.
Chapter Seventeen
“I can’t believe you made me come all the way out here.”
Zoey resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Donny Bloomfield’s sulking disposition. He’d started grousing that morning when she’d called him to say they were doing follow-up interviews and his presence was ordered at the Pentagon this afternoon. She was actually surprised he hadn’t ratted her out to his daddy, but at this point she cared more about answers than diplomacy, which was why she’d demanded the meeting on her time and her turf.
Funny how she already considered the Pentagon her turf. It wasn’t really. She’d been here only a few days and didn’t at all know her way around, but she had an office here and, in addition to the helpful Lieutenant Louden, she now had a friend in Major Jack Riley. She thought back to her first day when she’d tried to fake knowing her way around to keep from looking foolish in front of Rook.
Where was Rook now? Was she working her own angles on this case? Zoey could hardly blame Rook if she was working without her since she’d ignored Rook’s texts and calls since she’d stormed out last night. Kicking herself for cutting Rook out, she itched to call her now, to see if they could connect, but she’d have to wait. Donny Bloomfield was in the hot seat, and Jack was waiting for her to take the lead.
After looking through all the files earlier, Jack had excused himself from her office and cleared his schedule. She didn’t know what he was working on, but she did know that he had autonomy because he’d told her that much. He’d escorted Lieutenant Bloomfield to the conference room, and she could tell that Donny was a little intimidated by the buff and handsome major who didn’t look like he took shit from anyone. All it took was one fierce glare from Jack and Donny quit his whining.
“Tell me everything you know about your professor, Colonel Mitchell,” Zoey commanded.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree there. I don’t know anything about him.”
Zoey held his gaze long enough for him to start squirming in his seat before she pressed on. “That’s funny. We have information that he was a customer of the Darcy Agency. With that in common, you would think you might have some other details about his personal life.”
Donny shrugged. “News to me. I may not like him, but I’m not going to lie to get him in trouble.”
“Why don’t you like him?” Jack asked, his tone deceptively light and friendly.
An oh-shit expression crossed Donny’s face as he realized he’d revealed too much. “He’s a hard-ass. Treats us like plebes instead of officers. The guy never lets up.”
Zoey reflected ab
out Donny’s continued use of the present tense to refer to Mitchell. She supposed it was possible Donny didn’t know about Mitchell’s death, but she’d be surprised if word hadn’t made it around among his students. She decided to wait on revealing the truth to see how this interaction played out. “He says you don’t take this program seriously. That you and your friends think your time at McNair is a pass to party and he’s only pushing you to be better.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“I agree.” She let the statement settle for a moment and then pressed on. “I mean the guy is married and he’s paying prostitutes for sex? Who’s he to lecture you?”
Donny’s eyes gleamed. “Exactly. Especially since he’s the one who hooked us up in the first place.”
Now it was Zoey’s turn to be surprised. She glanced at Jack, but his face was stone. Not sure what else to do, she played along. “We thought that might be the case. What do you think was up with that?”
“I have no idea. Like I said, I don’t know jack about the guy. Maybe he was getting a kickback or a little something something on the side.” He punctuated his remark with a lewd gesture. “All I know is he slipped us the number for the hookers with our last exam. At the time I thought he was cool, but then when we got busted at that hotel, he went bat-shit crazy. I guess he figured he was going to get in trouble for hooking us up in the first place.”
Zoey stared at him, focused on keeping her expression neutral which was pretty damn hard considering the bombshell he’d just dropped. Mitchell, who’d stormed into her office, pissed off that he’d been swept up into this investigation, had turned his students on to prostitutes? But why?
“Is he?”
“What?” Zoey asked, confused by the question.
“Is Mitchell going to get in trouble?” Donny asked, his tone sounding sincere for the first time. “Are we? My dad’s already pissed off enough. I don’t need a disciplinary action in my jacket to fuel his fire.”
Angry that all he cared about was his record, Zoey growled, “I don’t know what’s going to happen to you, but Colonel Mitchell ate his gun last night, so you don’t need to worry about him anymore.”
* * *
“I don’t understand why you can’t represent me,” Newman said for the tenth time.
Rook groaned inwardly. She’d been in Ohio for three hours and she couldn’t wait to leave. Since the senator’s driver had picked her up from the airport, she’d been answering the same questions about his future with a lot of “I don’t knows” and “it depends.” After their car slowly nudged through the crowd of reporters blocking his street and delivered them safely to the house, Newman switched to asking her to represent him before the grand jury, and she was growing weary of repeating the same answer, over and over.
She injected her voice with all the patience she could muster. “You need a lawyer that specializes in this kind of case. That’s not me, but I’ll help you find someone. Whoever it is needs to be local, not some big DC firm. This case involves someone who died here in Columbus, so the outcome will be more about relationships with local officials than about how much they bill per hour. In fact, the bigger the show you put on, the more likely walls will start closing in around you. Having me here is pushing it. The Franklin County prosecuting attorney isn’t going to be impressed when a bunch of lawyers show up in suits that cost more than he makes in several months.”
“If you say so.”
“You have to trust me on this,” Rook said. “Have you talked to Jeanine?”
“I would if you hadn’t sent her to New York.”
She ignored the edge in his voice, thankful he was following her instructions by not talking about the case on the phone to anyone but her. “Lacy has already booked her flight back. She’ll board a plane right after her speech at the conference and she’ll be here later tonight.”
This was the perfect time to bring up her planned departure. Harry was up to speed on everything he needed to know to shepherd Newman through the next couple of days. She’d already come up with a list of local attorneys and scheduled meetings for the next day. She only had to convince Newman he would be in capable hands with her gone.
Her phone buzzed with a text and she took it as a perfect opportunity to slip out of the room and let Harry take point. “I’ll be right back,” she said, not waiting for a reply before walking out of the senator’s study.
The text was from Zoey and it was short and simple. Sorry about last night. Developments here. Signal sucks in the building—Call me on the landline and I’ll fill you in. A few seconds passed and another text came in. Miss you too. She glanced back at the study door, but decided to wait to call Zoey until she was on her way to the airport where she’d have some privacy. She started to tuck her phone back in her pocket, but it rang. A quick look at the screen showed only the words unknown caller.
“Where are you?” Julia barked.
“Don’t you people watch the news? On West Wing, there’s like a million television sets crowded into your offices and everyone’s always staring at them.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, this is not a TV show, it’s a real White House and I need a real update. I heard you’re in Ohio, but I find it hard to believe you would traipse across the country while you have an active case pending here. Any updates for me?”
Rook resisted pointing out that Ohio was hardly across the country. No need to make Julia madder than she already was. Instead she settled on a half-truth. “There’s been a development, but we should talk in person.” She looked at her watch. Even if she left now and met with Zoey as soon as she landed, it would still be late. “I’m flying back tonight. Let’s meet in the morning. Okay?”
“Seven thirty a.m. Just you—I want to get a full update without anyone from the Pentagon looking over our shoulders trying to distract us.”
Rook clicked off the line and stared at the phone, rereading the text from Zoey, trying hard not to be distracted and failing miserably. A second later, her phone rang again, but this time it was Eric. “Grand Central Station,” she answered.
“Rook?”
She laughed. “Sorry, it’s me. It’s been a little crazy here.”
“Got it. When are you coming back?”
“Tonight. I’m meeting Major Granger—apparently there have been some developments. You have news for me?”
“Yes. I was able to crack the code. Our guy was heavily involved with the agency, but he was reporting to someone else. I’m convinced there was more to the agency’s business enterprise than providing entertainment.”
Rook appreciated Eric’s attempt to be vague because they were talking on an unsecured line, but what she really wanted were straight answers, and she needed to get out of Ohio and back to DC if she was going to get any.“Have Blake drop the laptop off at my place and I’ll review the files.”
Twenty minutes later, she was in the car on the way to the airport for her private flight back to DC. She risked a quick call to Zoey on the ride.
“Granger.”
“You sound tired,” Rook said. “Have they got you working around the clock?”
“Pretty much. I’m glad you called.”
“Me too.” Rook settled into the familiar rhythm of their conversation. “I’m sorry about last night too. I’m used to handling things my way without much input from anyone else.”
“I’ll take fifty percent of the blame. I know you were just doing your job, which is important, even if you are a civilian.”
Rook heard the smile behind Zoey’s pseudo-jab and laughed. “Duly noted. So are we okay?”
“Yes. Now, are you going to come back and work with me? I had to drag in other resources to help in your absence.”
Rook’s senses went on alert. “Other resources?”
“Jack Riley. He helped me re-interview Donny Bloomfield. Good thing too since Bloomfield dropped a couple of bombshells and no one would believe me if Jack hadn’t heard it too.”
Suddenly conscious t
hey shouldn’t be having this conversation on a cell phone, Rook stopped her. “Hey, I want to hear all about it, but I’m about to get on the plane. I’ll call you when I land and we can meet. Okay?”
“Sounds perfect.”
Minutes later, the car pulled up to the private hangars at the John Glenn Airport, and Rook thanked the universe for charter planes and the ability to afford them. She’d land in DC, meet Zoey, learn about the new developments, review the files Eric had sent, and prepare for her meeting with Julia. With any luck, she’d get the work part done in time for a do-over of last night’s dinner with Zoey.
Chapter Eighteen
Zoey idled her car near the hangar, pretending to read messages on her phone while casting surreptitious glances at the runway to her left. She checked her watch for the umpteenth time. Nine o’clock. George had said Rook was due to land at eight and Zoey had been waiting since then. If Rook didn’t show up soon, the security guard she’d seen looping the building was going to have her tossed out.
This was a stupid idea. Talking George into letting her pick Rook up at the airport was likely to get him in trouble and annoy Rook. Besides, her little sports car was hardly a plush town car full of Rook’s creature comforts, and her attempt to re-create part of their very first meeting was a foolish sentiment. Since when had she become sentimental? You’re going soft, Granger.
Nope. She had solid plans to focus on business. She needed to bring Rook up to speed on her meeting with Donny Bloomfield, and picking her up at the airport was a practical and efficient way to have their conversation in private. She tapped the steering wheel, pounding out her nerves, and decided to wait ten more minutes before she bailed on Mission Surprise Rook at the Airport.