Enigma (FBI Thriller #21)(56)
“Agreed,” Savich said. “Cam, you and Jack will pay Ms. Alvarez a visit tomorrow morning. I want to show her muscle. Take her to the Hoover Building, and we’ll all have a nice long talk. Here’s her passport photo, renewed two years ago.”
Jack looked at the sharp-featured face of a woman in her thirties with olive skin, short spiky red hair, green eyes ringed in black eyeliner, and heavy near-black lipstick. She was wearing a black turtleneck sweater and a nose ring. “Says she’s five foot six, weighs one twenty-five. She looks like a Goth throwback.” He handed the photo to Cam.
Cam studied the photo. “Her hair is dyed or it’s a very good wig. With that olive complexion I doubt she has green eyes. Her hair is probably as dark as her eyes and eyebrows.” She looked at Savich. “Even this photo isn’t real, is it?”
35
“I’ve run the photo through facial recognition, no matches, which means Alvarez isn’t in the database. That is, if that photo really is Alvarez.”
Cam picked an olive off her pizza and chewed on it. “Jack, remember Chief Harbinger’s daughter had the impression the woman with Jacobson and Manta Ray could be Hispanic?”
“Yeah, sure, but we didn’t get any kind of look at her.”
Sherlock said, “Okay, but why not her? It would make sense, keep it all in the family so to speak, wouldn’t it?”
Savich said, “And that would mean her boss had her set up the safe-deposit box in her name. The question is, who are they?”
Jack took a drink of the Funky Buddha, frowned. “You wouldn’t have a Bud, would you, Savich?”
* * *
An hour later, Jack walked Cam to the door. “Drive carefully. You sure your arm’s okay?”
“Stop worrying, I’m fine.”
“Okay, but remember, even though you don’t have a broken wing, you’re still driving with a lot of missing feathers.”
She laughed. “I hope you enjoy Hotel Savich. I hear only the really interesting people are invited to stay here.”
“I think it’s more to the point that they know I’m pretty much homeless here in Washington.” Jack paused, looked beyond her left shoulder. “The guy you dated at the Satterleigh condos, he was a rich guy? Who was he?”
“Derrick Benthurst was his name. His bank nearly destroyed the world economy, but he looked me right in the eye and claimed he knew nothing about it, the lying putz. On the plus side, he had a flat stomach and a nice smile.”
“How do you know he had a flat stomach? No, forget that. You didn’t get serious with him?”
She laughed, couldn’t help herself, and leaned in close. “Derrick was in the process of trying to discover whether he was gay. He was.”
He gave her a big smile. “Well, that’s enough to make a woman think twice. You’re right, what a putz.”
“Yes, indeed.”
Jack lightly touched his fingers to her blue sling. “I could ask them to let you stay, what with your missing feathers, but there’s only one guest bedroom. You’d have to sleep with me or in Sean’s room.”
She eyed him up and down. “Well, I’ve got to say you do clean up well, Cabot, but I sort of liked that black scruff all over your face. Do you snore?”
“Can’t say, I never stayed awake to listen to myself.”
“Har har. I wonder about Sean. Okay, time to get our brains back to the matter at hand.”
Jack said, “Of course you’ve already read every single one of the initial interviews with the safe-deposit box owners.”
She gave him a fat smile. “Sure. And when you’re lying in bed alone tonight, you can review Cortina Alvarez’s interview. Sleep well, Jack. I sure hope we do something to earn our pay tomorrow.”
He stayed on the front porch until she’d backed her white Mazda out of the driveway and disappeared down the street. He walked back into the Savich living room and saw Sean in blue Transformer pajamas, standing next to Savich, his iPad clutched to his chest. He gave a jaw-cracking yawn.
“Papa says I should call you Uncle Jack.”
“Sounds good. I already have three nephews. You can be my fourth. It’s late, why’d you leave dreamland?”
“I dreamed a big green dragon flew so close to me he nearly burned my ears off and I woke up.” Sean yawned again.
Savich lifted his boy into his arms. “Sean wants to challenge you to Lethal Demon Force—naturally, it’s the advanced version—but I told him he’d have to be at the top of his game to take you on, and that means a solid night of sleep.”
Jack smiled at the little boy, his face pressed against his father’s neck, nearly asleep again. He could already see the man in the boy. Jack patted Sean’s thick black hair. “That’s right, a solid nine hours or I’ll zing you good.”
Sean gave a little sleep snort.
Sherlock came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “All cleaned up. Hey, I hear Astro.” She added to Jack, “Astro’s Sean’s terrier, a right frightening guard dog, that one. He rarely lets Sean out of his sight here at home. It’s late, we should all get some sleep.” Astro came tearing into the room, jumped up, and Sherlock caught him in her arms.