Twisted Prey (Lucas Davenport #28)(92)

“I was his PA!” Oakes wailed, opening her mouth for the first time. “I handled his schedule and travel reservations, but I didn’t do any of the business stuff.”

“Oh, horseshit,” Rae said.

Lucas snapped: “Rae, I don’t want to have to warn you again.”

“You ain’t warned me the first time, cracker,” Rae said. To Oakes she said, “I can tell you from personal experience, honey, that you don’t want to fuck with the FBI. Those coldhearted motherfuckers drop you in a hole without thinking about it twice, and not even remember you’re there after they throw you in. Claxson’s going down for thirty. You don’t want to be in that bag.”

“C’mon, Rae,” Bob said, “don’t be trying to scare her.” To Oakes he said, “Even if they put you in prison, well, federal prison, especially for women, isn’t that bad. You get three hots and a cot and good medical attention.”

“Not the only kinda attention she’d get,” Rae said, lifting her eyebrows. “Some of them rug munchers can get right up in your lap.”

“C’mon, Rae, goddamnit,” Bob said.

Lucas raised his voice. “Again, everybody shut up.” To Oakes: “Claxson’s computers are all encrypted. Do you know his private key?”

“No, I . . . I don’t. Nobody knows that but him. It’s long; I’ve seen him entering it on his computer, moving his lips when he’s doing it. It’s like he’s typing in whole words. And he’s not referring to anything—he’s got it memorized.”

“That’s bad,” Rae said. “Is everything in code?”

“Most everything,” Oakes said. “That’s why I don’t know anything . . . It all goes back and forth in code because it’s mostly classified. I know they ship armaments from one place to another, but all these details are in code. That’s not what I do.”

“You do his travel,” Lucas said. “Did you arrange his airplane flight to Omaha?”

She hesitated, then said, “I knew he was flying.”

“Do you know who was with him?”

The hesitation again. “No, but I got four box lunches. I have no idea who they were for, but one of them could have been Carol.”

Lucas, Bob, and Rae all glanced at one another. “Who’s Carol?” Lucas asked. “Is that a woman?”

She nodded. “Carol Ruiz. I don’t know that she went, but she was buzzing around that day, before George—Mr. Claxson—left. We don’t see her very often—she doesn’t work for us—so . . . I don’t know that much about her.”

“Are they intimate?” Bob asked. “George and Carol?”

Oakes frowned, repeated, “Intimate?”

“You know,” Rae said, “is George slipping her the pink piccolo? The ol’ skin flute?”

“Oh . . . no. No! Carol mostly talks to the guys. I think she’s an OGA.”

Lucas: “She’s a spook?”

“Careful where you go with that,” Rae said to Lucas, “I don’t like that spook shit.” She glared at Oakes, leaned into her. “You don’t never say ‘spook,’ do you?”

“I never . . .”

Lucas said, “Hmph, Carol Ruiz. We’ll take a look at her.”

“Don’t mention my name, please. She’s . . . scary.”

“We’ll try not to,” Lucas said. He took his notebook and a pen from his jacket pocket, flipped the notebook open, wrote “Carol Ruiz.” “Can you tell me what she looks like?”

Oakes said, “She’s shorter than I am and I’m five-six. She’s thin, like a marathon runner or something, that’s what she looks like. Black hair, dark eyes. Doesn’t laugh much. In my opinion, she’s . . . not quite right. She looks at you funny . . . Please don’t tell her I gave you her name.”

“If we have to use your name, we’ll make sure Ruiz knows you’re protected by the FBI,” Lucas said. “To get back to Claxson, I understand that his encryption code is a long one, but his phone code wouldn’t be. Either four or six numbers, right? You must know what that is.”

“I . . .” She began to cry.

Lucas let her go for fifteen seconds, then said, “Helen? Don’t lie to me. You can tell me that you refuse to answer, but you can’t lie to me. That’s a crime, and I’m not lying when I say that.”

“He does lie a lot, but not about this stuff,” Rae said.

“Please don’t tell him,” she said, and sobbed again.

“We’ll do the best we can to keep it private . . .”

“It’s 312415 . . .” Lucas wrote it in his notebook as she recited it.

“How’d you figure it out?” Rae asked.

“I sit beside him when we’re in a car. I’ve seen him do it a hundred times and I . . . just remember it. He didn’t try to hide it because . . . it’s like I’m not there . . . most of the time.”

Lucas stood up. “We’ll need you to wait here,” Lucas said. “Your escort will come pick you up.”

“Please don’t tell George I told that to you. I’m . . . afraid of him.”