Deadlock (FBI Thriller #24)(69)

“You weren’t expecting anyone to be tracking you. You’d only been here a day and a half. Even the few people who recognized you couldn’t know you were FBI, here undercover. Hey, I’m a cop, and I had no idea who you were.”

“Yeah, make me feel better. Fact is, he dealt with me easily. It’s humiliating, really humiliating.”

“It’s a good thing he didn’t want to kill you, only put you out of commission. That makes me wonder what he was going to do with you if you hadn’t gotten yourself free. Would he have let you go? Maybe left you here until someone found you?” He slowly rose, dusted his hands on his jeans. “Either way, it seems there was a lot of luck on their side, or Black Hoodie and whoever he was getting his instructions from knew Savich well enough to know if he believed you were in trouble, he would rush right over to St. Lumis.”

“It makes sense they’d know Agent Savich was my boss. But I wonder what they would have done if he hadn’t come.”

“Probably something more obvious, more violent. Like I said, they got lucky, got exactly the result they wanted. But now that we have Black Hoodie’s thumbprint, their luck might be about to change. We have to find out how they knew you were FBI so quickly.”

“Only one place to start. We need to talk to Mrs. Trumbo.”





44


CLAIREMONT, VIRGINIA

CLARKSON UNITED INDUSTRIES

TUESDAY AFTERNOON

Rebekah pushed the up button in the elevator lobby. As they waited, she said to Griffin, “When Grandfather was elected to Congress back in the early eighties, he had to divest control of his holdings. He signed Clarkson United over to a blind trust, but arranged it so my grandmother could continue to run things. Grandfather was never much interested in the business, it was more pro forma for him, though the business thrived under him. He had a knack for it. He was charismatic, and people loved working for him. But politics was his true love. When he was elected mayor of Clairemont, he’d already handed the company over to my grandmother. This was three years before he was elected to Congress.” She laughed, shook her head. “Politics and me, both of us his true love.” She paused a moment, smiled. “It helped that the incumbent was caught in a love triangle.”

“Do you find it a little unusual how much he loved you, now that you’re an adult?”

She nodded. “Unusual, sure, but I was lucky. I was well loved and I knew it.” She paused a moment, then said, “You think he loved me too much? Why? Don’t you think I was lovable enough?”

“I’m sure you were. What did your mother have to say about it?”

“I think she saw him as stepping in to fill a gap, since I didn’t have a father. Do you know, because of him, I never missed having a father, I had Grandfather.”

“What happened to your father?”

The elevator pinged, the doors opened. There was no one inside. Rebekah punched the button for the eighth and top floor. “I was told he abandoned Mom—well, I started calling her Caitlin when I was a teenager, her choice—and me right after I was born. I don’t know why. That’s all she told me. It didn’t matter that much to me, though. Again, I had Grandfather.”

“And how did your grandmother react to her husband adoring you?”

“She was never a part of my life, only a presence in the background, nothing more. To be honest, I doubt that will ever change. When I grew up I realized she’d ignored me whenever she could. I remember when she’d look at me, there was nothing there, no expression at all. Looking back, I think she simply didn’t like me, or maybe she resented me because Grandfather loved me more than he loved her and he made it obvious. But I think she’ll be civil to me today, it’s the way she is, the ruler in control, the queen bee. How do you like that for a screwed-up family dynamic?”

“Sorry, that doesn’t even make my top ten.”

The elevator pinged again, and they stepped out into a reception area filled with plush, comfortable Americana—love seats and chairs in nubby browns and golds within easy reach of a big glass-topped coffee table stacked with magazines and coasters for coffee. The walls were lined with a procession of photos, from a black-and-white of the original Clarkson textile mill built in the 1920s to the new office building built in the early eighties. She said to Griffin, “I’ve given you fair warning, Agent Hammersmith. Even though I said my grandmother would be civil, I really have no idea how she’s going to react to me, much less you, an FBI agent.”

An older woman, short, plump, and wearing a black suit and sensible black pumps, came out of an office down the hall, saw them, and smiled. “Goodness, it’s you, Rebekah. Look how you’re all grown up, and so pretty. Although you were such a cute little girl, it was easy to see you’d only become more so. I hear you’re becoming an art fraud expert. And you, sir? You’re not Rebekah’s husband, you’re far too young.”

Rebekah was laughing. “Mrs. Frazier, it’s amazing you got all that out in a single breath. On one of my visits here, I remember you gave me gummy bears and a Beatrix Potter coloring book.”

Mrs. Frazier gave her a pat on the shoulder, then hugged her. “What a memory you have. I’d forgotten those silly gummy bears. They were your grandfather’s favorites, you know. I always kept them in case he dropped by to visit with employees. He was so very popular. And look at you now, Rebekah, married to an important congressman, just like your grandfather. I see your handsome husband on the TV now and then. I remember when he was an intern with your grandfather back in the day. I wish I could have come to your wedding, but I was visiting my sister. It’s so good to see you, but who is this young man with you? He’s too good-looking to be on the loose, so if you like I can keep him here with me, all to myself.” She gave a big belly laugh.