While Justice Sleeps(119)

She’d nearly killed Rita. The realization slammed into her and wrenched a sob from her closing throat. If Agent Lee hadn’t agreed to ferry them to the warehouse. If he hadn’t made his shot. If. If. If.

The word tumbled around, careening off doubt and guilt and panic. She’d nearly killed her mother to save another man, and she still might fail.

“Ms. Keene?” Agent Madison stood a pace away, her eyes soft with concern. “It will pass.”

“What?”

“The adrenaline. From fear. Now that you’ve gotten her back, it’s flooding through you. It’ll pass.”

Avery started to argue—to tell the well-intentioned woman that her trials still had a third act. But instead, she gained her feet, her knees wobbly. “Thank you. I’d appreciate it if you’d stay with my mother. She’s detoxing. It can be—difficult. I’d like to get her into a treatment bed as soon as possible. Can you help?”

“I’ve got her, and I’m sure the Bureau can make the arrangements.”

Avery nodded gratefully and continued down the hall to Agent Lee’s office.

Inside, Agent Lee had managed to find a semblance of calm. He’d also received a sheet on Chief Warrant Officer Marcus Phillips, of late, attaché to Major Will Vance of the S&T Directorate. When Avery entered the room, he passed her the file. She scanned the contents without comment.

“I notice you’re not surprised.”

She wasn’t. Though having a name for the dead man was news, his former employer was not. Avery handed the file to Jared and folded her arms. She decided to stand, assuming it would be easier to take the agent’s anger on her feet. “I didn’t have proof,” she acknowledged. “But based on what I’ve learned, I had good reason to believe Major Vance was involved.”

“Any chance you’d like to tell me what you’ve learned?” Agent Lee propped a hip on his desk. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

    “I do.” When his brows winged northward, she apologized: “I’m not finished yet.”

“Finished with what?” Before she could respond, he shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s do the easy question first. How did you know Major Vance had your mother?”

“I guessed.” Avery hated to be difficult, but until she’d played her final hand, she couldn’t be honest with him. Real remorse filled her voice. “You’ve been very good to me, Agent Lee. However, if I tell you what I know, you’ll get shut down. Because there’s not enough evidence for you to act.”

“But you can stop the president’s adviser on your own?” The derision was palpable. “Avery, you’ve saved your mother and Justice Wynn by pulling him off the bench. Now it’s time to turn this over to the FBI and let us do our jobs.”

“With what I can prove, you can’t guarantee a conviction against Major Vance.” Avery stepped forward and held his eyes with a solemn look. She’d given him a glimpse, but now he had to let her finish her course. She reached into her purse and removed the plastic bag from Justice Wynn’s study. “Test this pill bottle for prints and let me know what you find. In forty-eight hours, I promise you the bust of your career.”

“I don’t haggle, Ms. Keene. I gave you twenty-four hours, and the clock’s just about run on that.”

Jared intervened: “Then you can go and question Vance about his attaché. He’ll tell you Phillips was freelancing, and you’ll have nothing to contradict him. I’m sure Vance has manufactured evidence of a right-wing group that Phillips will be conveniently aligned with.”

Knowing he was correct did nothing to sweeten Agent Lee’s temper. “I’ll make something work.”

“You’ll lose him.” She clasped her hands behind herself. “DHS versus the FBI. National security threat or war hero?”

“I’m not getting into a pissing match with you or Vance. I’m doing my job.”

“Which will be easier if you let me do mine.”

“What exactly do you think your job is, Avery?”

“I’m Justice Wynn’s guardian. Let me stand up for him.” She faced Agent Lee fully, stubbornly insistent. “Forty-eight more hours, and then they’re all yours.”





FORTY-NINE


Tuesday, June 27

At seven the next morning, Avery and Jared arrived at the St. Regis hotel. Indira Srinivasan opened the door and welcomed them inside. A bodyguard began to frisk Jared, who stood patiently. After patting down Avery and wanding them both, the guard stepped away. “They’re clean.”

“Good morning,” Nigel offered, rising. He extended a hand to Jared. “Mr. Wynn.”

“Mr. Cooper.” Jared took a seat on the opposite sofa, and Avery sat beside him. “Dr. Srinivasan.”

“Indira and Nigel.” Nigel settled beside Indira, who opted to perch on the arm of the sofa. He stroked her hand absently. “Titles seem so formal when we’re about to go bankrupt.”

“I don’t want to destroy your companies,” Avery corrected. “Jared needs the work you’ll do together.”

“What work?”

“Tigris and all the rest. I know all about it.”