Deadlock (FBI Thriller #24)(25)

It was perfect timing, just what Savich wanted. He said, “He plans on being home the rest of the day and evening?”

At her nod, he said, “Then you won’t need our protection.” Savich quickly texted Griffin, told him to go straight to the birthday party and have a great time with all the teenagers and the cake.

A text came back immediately: Understood. Fingers crossed for chocolate, tons of frosting, little chocolate flowers on top.

Savich said, “Twenty minutes should be fine.”

Rebekah said, “Please, sit down. May I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” Savich said. “We need to get started. Rebekah, I want you to tell me everything about your meeting with Zoltan on Wednesday night.” He looked at Kit Jarrett and cocked his head.

Kit said, “I know it all already, Agent Savich. I won’t interrupt, and you can trust me not to blab, despite my being a motormouth when you walked in. Believe me, I would never do anything to harm Rebekah. She pays me very well.” She lightly poked Rebekah’s arm.

Rebekah studied his face, stilled. “You went to see Zoltan, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Thursday night.”

She sighed. “I suppose she told you everything, then? About pretending Grandfather was there and what he said about the Big Take?”

“Despite the psychotropic herbs she put in her special tea, yes, I managed to get her account of what happened.”

“What? You’re saying she drugged the tea?”

Savich nodded. “When I called her on it, she claimed there was nothing harmful in the tea, that she meant only to relax her clients, make them more at ease.”

Rebekah stared at him. “You mean her blasted tea was meant to drug me into not questioning her version of reality?”

“I’d say that about nails it, yes. When I left her, I took the thermos with me and had the tea checked. There was a mix of poorly understood Chinese herbs in the tea but nothing illegal.”

Rebekah smacked her fist against the arm of the sofa. “I never questioned it, never. I knew I was mellowing out—I was less stressed, and I really liked the taste of that tea. That bitch. But you realized what she’d done.”

“I’m suspicious by nature. Rebekah, it’s time for you to tell me exactly what happened that night. From your perspective. You can trust our discretion.”

She sighed again. “I guess there’s no point trying to keep it private any longer. I finally broke down and told Rich all about the séance. I thought I’d have to coldcock him to keep him from driving over to Zoltan’s house and attacking her. I wouldn’t be surprised if he passed the story along to his sons, even his best bud, Chief of Staff Arlan Burger.”

“Why didn’t you add me to your list?”

She blinked away tears. “I didn’t think on Thursday to tell you more about it. I couldn’t admit to myself the story might be true. My grandfather was a good man, at least I believe so from everything I know to be true about him. I preferred to think that story really was made up, and who knows, maybe it was, that’s what I told Rich. He laughed and said if the Big Take was made up, then why would someone try to kidnap me?”

“He’s right,” Savich said. “Someone found out about the Big Take story and believes it’s true. Rebekah, do you really know where the Big Take is hidden?”

“No, really, although I think I left Zoltan with the impression I did. Of course, I didn’t recite Grandfather’s poem to Zoltan, but I did hint I knew where it’s hidden. She wanted me to say the poem, but I didn’t. I told her it didn’t matter what the poem said, I intended to let whatever it was, even if it’s real, stay hidden forever.”

“Someone attacked you to hear that poem, Rebekah,” Savich said. “You need to let it go now. I’m not sure we can help you if you don’t trust us with it.”

Kit sat forward, took Rebekah’s hands in hers. “Do you still remember it?”

Rebekah sat back against the sofa cushions, clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap. “I promised Grandfather I’d never say it out loud, except to him, and I haven’t, not to anyone. I know it’s silly keeping a child’s promise, but it’s hard for me to break it, even now. In many ways, my relationship with my grandfather was the most important one I had growing up, other than with my mother, of course. It was his story and his poem, and now it’s mine. I couldn’t stand it if I let whatever it leads to tarnish his memory.”

“After what’s happened to you, Rebekah,” Savich said, “a grandfather who loved you would understand. He’d want you to tell us.”

“Then you have to promise not to repeat it, to use it only to find out who attacked me. Can I trust you, Agent Savich, Agent Sherlock, and you, Kit, not to repeat it to anyone?”

After their nods, she closed her eyes, and recited quietly:

Don’t let them know it’s hidden inside

The key to what I wish to hide

It’s in my head, already there

And no one else will guess or care

Remember these words when at last I sleep

And the Big Take will be yours to keep.



She opened her eyes. “A silly little poem, one of several he wrote for me. I asked him what the words ‘it’s in my head’ meant, and all he said was I would know someday. Of course, he never had a chance to tell me. He had the strokes and fell into the coma. I remember I thought he was only adding some charm to his story, never anything more than that—until now.” She studied Savich’s face and sighed. “I know you’re on my side, Agent Savich. I should have told you before.”