The Girls I've Been(51)

“We make them stick to the original deal.”

“All right. I understand,” Yvonne says. “Then we’re clear: We don’t leave this room without the original terms we agreed upon, signed and official.”

“Agreed.”

“She’s had a tail on me since day one,” Yvonne says. “So she’s waiting in the lobby.”

“Of course she is.”

“There are at least three undercover agents positioned downstairs. Who knows how many she put on the other floors.”

“She’s such a drama queen,” Amelia mutters.

“I’ll call her up, if you’re ready.”

She nods.

The click of the phone, then: “This is room 206. Can you please send my guest up? Thank you.” She shoots Amelia a reassuring smile. “It will be fine. You have what they want.”

Amelia nods, but it’s shaky, and it makes me worried. But when there’s a knock at the door a few minutes later, her shoulders square, and suddenly she’s all swagger and strength again in a single breath.

“Good evening, Agent North,” says Yvonne. “I’m Ms. Striker; I represent the Deveraux sisters. Would you like some coffee?”

“I’m fine,” says the woman, coming in. She has short blond hair and a somber face. “Lawyering up, Amelia?”

“Do you have it?” Amelia asks, her face as blank as the agent’s.

“He was where you said he’d be, if you were wondering,” Agent North says. “Well, kind of. He’d dragged himself a good fifty feet down the beach, trying to find help. She did a number on him, your little sister.”

Amelia’s mouth twitches.

“Neither of my clients have any knowledge of what you’re speaking of,” Yvonne says smoothly.

“Sure,” Agent North drawls sarcastically.

“My client—”

She holds her hand up. “This isn’t what we talked about.”

“I don’t care,” Amelia says. “It’s your mess now.”

“You’re such a piece of work,” Agent North says disgustedly. “Do you at least have the hard drives?”

“Do you have the immunity agreement?”

“Amelia . . .”

Amelia’s up out of her chair and walking toward the door so fast, it has the woman’s eyes widening. “Out, then.”

“You were supposed to get your sister out next week when they went on vacation. If things had gone according to plan, she would’ve had a fingerprint kit and we’d be able to move in on his entire operation after a thorough vetting. Now I’ve got Raymond Keane in the hospital and the only other person around that night was your sister. That does not look good.”

“If you would like to know the details of my evening, I’m happy to provide them,” Amelia says.

“Sure, enlighten me,” Agent North drawls.

“I got a call from my sister last night asking me to pick her up. Raymond and our mother had been fighting, and when my sister tried to stop him, he hit her. Again. So I came and got her. She was waiting for me in the foyer of the house. I did not go farther inside. And if you are audacious enough to make me say this in front of lawyers or a judge or even any of those other pesky agent friends of yours? I will say the same thing. Along with some other choice secrets of yours and maybe some of your higher-ups’ secrets, too.”

“And if we question your sister?”

“We had a deal, Marjorie. You get Raymond and Abby and the proof to lock them away, and I get my sister.”

“I don’t see the hard drives,” Agent North says.

“You won’t see the rest until I have the deal in front of me,” Yvonne says.

There’s a beat. A moment of showdown where someone’s gotta blink.

It’s Agent North. She bends down, pulls a sheaf of paper out of her briefcase, and hands it to Yvonne.

“Show her one,” Yvonne says, turning to the papers, settling her glasses on her nose.

Amelia gets up, goes over to the safe, keys in the number, and pulls out one of the hard drives and a laptop. She plugs it in and boots it up, then clicks on the folder. “This one has all the video,” she says. “Raymond likes to have video.”

“Fuck,” Agent North breathes as she watches. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Amelia closes the laptop as she leans forward. “Not until Yvonne tells me that agreement is solid.”

“I could just take her in right now,” Agent North says, and there’s a note of threat in her voice I don’t like. “I have cause.”

“You touch my sister and you will not make it out of this room alive,” Amelia says, with such flat sincerity it sends a warm jolt of something—I don’t know it then, but it’s security—through me.

“Amelia,” Yvonne warns. “Agent North, she didn’t—”

“Yes she did,” the agent says. “She meant every word.”

“Yes, I did,” Amelia says. The two of them stare at each other. I can see it through the gap in the door. It crackles, whatever’s between them.

“I want to talk alone,” Agent North says.

I don’t think Amelia will agree, but to my surprise, she nods.