The Judge's List (The Whistler #2)(85)
Neff said, “This is Special Agent Drew Suarez.”
She shot him a look of irritation and he nodded in return.
Neff continued, “We’ll be brief. We’re looking for your boss and can’t find him. Any idea where Judge Bannick might be right now?”
“Well, uh, no. I assume he’s at home on a Saturday morning.”
“He’s not.”
“Well, then, I don’t know. What’s going on?”
“When did you last see him?”
“He stopped by the office Thursday morning, two days ago. Haven’t talked to him since.”
“We understand he’s undergoing treatment.”
“He is. Cancer. Is he in trouble or something?”
“No, not at all. We just have some routine questions regarding allegations from another investigation.”
That was vague enough to mean nothing, cop-speak at its best, but Diana decided this was no time to push. She nodded as if she understood completely. Neff said, “So, no idea where he might be?”
“I’m sure you’ve checked the courthouse. He has a key and comes and goes at all hours.”
“We’re watching it. He’s not there. He’s not at home. Any idea where else he might be?”
Diana watched the game for a few seconds, not sure how much to say. “He has a bungalow at Seaside, though he rarely goes there.”
“We’re watching it too. He’s not there.”
“Okay. You say he’s not in trouble, so why are you watching everywhere?”
“We need to talk to him.”
“Obviously.”
Suarez took a step closer, gave her a hard look, and said, “Ms. Zhang, you are talking to the FBI. May I remind you it’s against the law to be untruthful?”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“No.”
Neff shook her head. No. She said, “It’s important that we find him as soon as possible.”
Diana glared at Suarez, then looked at Neff. “There’s a chance he went back to Santa Fe. He’s undergoing treatment there for colon cancer. Look, he’s very private and makes his own travel arrangements. He’s taken leave and he doesn’t discuss things with anyone.” She looked at Suarez and said plainly, “Honestly. I have no idea where he is.”
Neff said, “He’s booked no flights in the past forty-eight hours.”
“As I said, I don’t handle his travel.”
“Do you know the name of the treatment center in Santa Fe?”
“No.”
Neff and Suarez looked at each other and nodded as if they believed her. Neff said, “I’d like to keep this conversation between us, okay, off the record.”
Suarez chimed in with, “In other words, don’t mention it to the judge should you hear from him. Okay?”
“Sure.”
“If you tell him about us you might be held for aiding and abetting.”
“I thought you said he’s done nothing wrong.”
“Not yet. Just keep it quiet.”
“Got it.”
* * *
—
She knew only that Allie was somewhere in the Caribbean, watching, stalking, intercepting. He had let it slip that it was a joint effort with the DEA. Something big was happening, but then she’d heard that for almost three years now. All that mattered was his safety, but he had been gone for eight days with hardly a word. She was growing tired of his job, as was he, and she couldn’t imagine being married to a man who was constantly disappearing. Their summit was growing closer, weeks now instead of months. The big conversation in which nothing would be held back. Complicated, yet simple. Either we commit ourselves to each other and a different future, or we call it quits and stop wasting time.
She was in pain, stretching in some form of mixed yoga and physical therapy, a thirty-minute routine she was supposed to check off twice a day, when the phone rang at 10:04. Probably Jeri, looking for an update.
Instead, it was the not too pleasant voice of Clay Vidovich, her new pal from yesterday at the FBI meeting in Pensacola. Sorry to bother on a Saturday morning, he went on, but didn’t really seem concerned with the interruption.
“We can’t find this guy, Lacy,” he said. “You have any ideas?”
“Well, no, Mr. Vidovich—”
“It’s Clay, okay? I thought we dropped the formalities yesterday.”
“Right, Clay. I don’t know this guy, never met him, so I have no idea where he hangs out. Sorry.”
“Does he know you’re involved, that BJC is investigating?”
“We haven’t contacted him directly, we’re not required to until after our initial assessment, but he probably knows about us.”
“How would he?”
“Well, Betty Roe, our source, believes Bannick can see around corners and hears everything. So far, she’s been right most of the time. Anytime you investigate a judge, the gossip seems to leak out. People love to talk, especially lawyers and court clerks. So, yes, there’s a decent chance Bannick knows we’re investigating.”
“But he would not know that you’ve gone to the state police and the FBI.”
“Clay, I have no idea what Bannick knows.”