Ignoring her messages, she placed the Sanchez file on the center of her desk and turned on her computer. She scanned Mariel’s email, amused and marveling at Cress’s ingenuity. Laura knew that Cress didn’t personally send the emails. Cress worked with an InterSec tech to create a life for Mariel. She read a couple of real messages from Terryn about InterSec administrative issues.
Laura opened the Sanchez dossier. The InterSec agent mole at the FBI had scant information on him-not even his real name-but had confirmed that he was involved in investigating low-level fey terrorists. Lawrence Scales, his field officer, was known as a straight-up guy, with major arrests notched on his belt. The InterSec report indicated that Sanchez had been working more important cases lately, an indication that he had been a rising star.
Laura leaned back in her chair and stared at the map across the room. She would find out what Sanchez had been doing. It was what she did. He had been undercover. Deegan had figured that out, but not everyone had the ob servational skills of a trained druid. Sanchez had trusted people to protect him. Deegan did, too. Their trust had failed somewhere. She found no suspicious references to Deegan in the file.
The circumstances of Sanchez’s death cast a troubling shadow over her. Whom had he trusted? In whom was that trust misplaced? She grappled with that issue every day of her life. Terryn and Cress never gave her any reason to doubt that they would protect her. She assumed Cress and Terryn thought the same thing about her. But she had lied to them on and off over the years. Sometimes it was to protect their position. Sometimes it was to have something to call her own. But what would that do to their trust in her if they found out? How would they handle it? What would happen to her then? The idea that she might be on her own path to the morgue was disquieting. In his lifetime, Terryn had had his share of betrayals. His family had a long history in the Seelie Court. She knew he hadn’t gone from being a potential heir to the throne of Faerie to the head of an InterSec section without making enemies or losing allies.
She gazed out the window at the Mall and wondered if the day might come that he questioned her trust. Would any explanation justify some of the secrets she’d kept from him? Sometimes she worried that she played the persona game too much and forgot where the lines were drawn.
CHAPTER 12
LAURA ARRIVED AT the Anacostia station house at a few minutes before eight o’clock. Liam had arranged the interviews for Mariel Tate as requested, and Foyle had requisitioned space for her. The conference room at the station house didn’t have the clichйd peeling paint and forty-year-old furniture. It did have the clichйd faux-wood table, pale blue generic office chairs, and dirt-hiding carpet that was twenty years old. Laura suspected the carpet had looked like dirt when it was installed.
She sat alone, checking her PDA and trying to keep Saffin calm. Between Hornbeck, the Guildmaster, and Resha Dunne, the brownie had her hands full running interference for Laura. Once Laura talked to Hornbeck, she hoped things would calm down, and they could get on with the ceremony.
She made clothing for Mariel part of the glamour for the day. Since she was beginning the day as Mariel and switching to Laura in the afternoon, it made life easier to wear a Laura outfit and glamour it with Mariel’s preferences for the morning. For the SWAT-team meeting, she appeared to wear one of Mariel’s basic business suits in deep charcoal, with a subtle flare at the jacket shoulders and a long, snug skirt. The image projected assurance and reflected the SWAT-TEAM uniform. She wanted the squad to feel that she was in control yet on the same team.
Foyle arrived wearing his dress uniform. She smiled that she wasn’t the only one projecting images. “Please have a seat, Captain Foyle. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Foyle sat opposite Laura, still and formal. “The pleasure is mine, ma’am.”
Laura folded her hands on the table and leaned toward him. “I don’t want to take too much of your time. This is preliminary for InterSec. We know you have other agencies you need to speak with. As co-investigators, we will have access to your other interviews and follow up as necessary.”
He gave a curt nod. “We appreciate that, ma’am.”
“Anything to keep the paperwork down,” Laura said. Foyle didn’t crack a smile. She opened a folder on the table and sorted through the various reports that had been filed. She wasn’t sure if Foyle was one of those who became unsettled during administrative hearings when druids didn’t refer to notes. She didn’t want him to feel the hearing was pointless or that a decision had already been made. Sometimes that was true, Laura admitted, but not always and not this time.
She pushed the paperwork away and leaned back. “What are you worried about, Captain?”
Foyle’s forehead creased. “Ma’am?”
Anger simmered below the surface of Foyle’s calm face. Laura didn’t want him angry. She wanted him comfortable. She gestured at the file. “I can read all this to you, but you know what it says. Off the record, I’m not all that upset by a bunch of dead drug dealers. I want whoever shot Janice Crawford. You want whoever killed your man. Tell me what you think went wrong.”
Foyle shifted back in his chair. “Bad intelligence and inadequate staff.”
“That’s what I’m seeing, too. Who is responsible for the intelligence?” she asked.
“I am responsible for the integrity of our information,” he said.
She nodded. “I know. You should be. But I recognize the fact that we can all be fooled. Where was trust misplaced here?”
Foyle’s anger dissipated into slight confusion and, oddly, a sense of hope. “Our primary contact was through an informant who is missing.”
She tilted her head, her expression curious. “Do you think you were targeted for disinformation?”
His confusion relaxed into relief, which could mean a number of things. If he wasn’t involved in the shooting, he wanted his team exonerated. If he was, well, he might be relieved she was on the wrong track and not going to implicate him. “It’s possible. My team is still responsible for its performance.”
Whenever he spoke, she nodded. She wanted to encourage the notion that they were in agreement. “I understand your feelings on that. Who found the intelligence sources?”
“Lieutenants Gianni and Sinclair. It’s in the files,” he said.
“Do you have any issues with their performance?”
“None.”
“Have they been involved in poor data sourcing before?”
“No.”
She moved some papers. “You were missing your regular team druid… Corman Deegan. Was that a factor?”
The curt nod again. “I believe it was. His substitute was not as skilled, from what I understand.”
“Janice Crawford. I believe you requested her?”
“I did, ma’am. She’d performed adequately on two or three previous missions. She seemed up to the task.”
Laura nodded. “I see. Do you think the outcome would have been different if Deegan had been with you?”
Foyle hesitated. “Maybe. We still don’t know what happened when Sanchez was shot. Crawford is claiming amnesia.”
“Yes. The concussion. She was shot, too.” A flicker of doubt washed out from Foyle. Laura almost broke her cool demeanor. Foyle had doubts about what had happened to Janice. What had happened to her. “You said ‘claiming amnesia,’ Captain. Do you have concerns about her diagnosis?”