“Joint investigation,” DeLucca said. “This is the New York subway; we have a vested interest in security improvements.”
“Bartz gave us shit for the sketch artist, but he might recognize the guy again,” Suzanne said. “Sean, can you get me a clean image of Mr. Ball Cap that we can show to our street thief?”
“We already let him go,” DeLucca said. “He has to report to court on the misdemeanor charges next week, but I’ll ask Kramer where he hangs.”
Sean sat down at the computer and worked up a digitally enhanced image, but he could do nothing better than a shadowed profile. But the profile was sharp enough that someone who knew the guy well might recognize him.
Suzanne stared at the photo. “Hmm. A little better.”
Sean asked, “Do you know him?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. But-there’s a little tickle in my memory.”
DeLucca said, “He could have popped up at Weber’s crime scene. I’ll have our photographer send us the photos of the crowd.”
“That’s probably it. It’s recent. Damn, I wish we had a better shot.”
Patrick said, “I made a copy and will go through it frame by frame to see if I can get another image of him. It’ll take some time, but I’m all yours.”
“We still don’t know if Tony stopped anywhere else between when he left you and when he boarded the plane,” Sean said.
“Would he have had time?” Suzanne asked. “He boarded his plane at six forty p.m. Do you know when he went through security?”
Sean had already pulled the flight information. “He printed his boarding pass from a kiosk at six oh four p.m. He was cutting it close, but he didn’t check any bags.”
“And Bridget Weber said he left her town house after five. In traffic, it’s at least forty-five minutes to LaGuardia from the Upper East Side, and that’s the peak of rush hour.”
DeLucca said, “He would only have had time to stop if it was on the way and he kept the taxi waiting. It’s a bitch to get a cab during rush hour.”
Sean considered that maybe the only stop Tony made was at the Webers’. “I have a call in to Noah to ask if Tony had the notebook on him. Maybe no one has unpacked his overnight bag yet.” He glanced at Patrick. “Then we’ll head back to D.C. I have a lead on Peter McMahon aka Gray I need to follow up on in person.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
FBI Academy
Lucy wasn’t at all comfortable with the role of spy.
She went to the gym hoping to avoid running into anyone she knew. Since new agents preferred to work out in the mornings or evenings, she usually had the gym to herself mid-afternoon. Today, however, Harden was running Carter and Eddie through intensive drills. Eddie looked angry and Carter looked ill.
She stretched, then worked with free weights, hoping the guys would be done soon and she could use the equipment unobserved.
“Take five,” Harden told Carter and Eddie after fifteen minutes. He approached Lucy. “I’m going to send Nix and Acosta to the pool for laps, if you want to join us.”
She didn’t, but at the same time a hard swim sounded like exactly what she needed to relax.
“Are they being punished for something?”
“Breaking curfew. Marines,” he added under his breath. “Ten minutes, meet you at the pool.” He walked back to Carter and Eddie.
Lucy wasn’t sure exactly what Harden meant, considering that they had the weekend off. She grabbed her swimsuit from her bag and changed in the women’s locker room.
Ten minutes later, Lucy was cutting through the water with sure, even strokes. This was exactly what she needed to leach the tension from her muscles and focus on something other than Hans, Tony, and her unwanted role as spy.
After the swim, Lucy was surprised to see Noah talking to Harden. She dried off and walked over to Carter and Eddie. She pulled off her swim cap. “What did you two do?”
Eddie said, “Broke curfew.”
“You didn’t sign out for the weekend?”
“Bingo. Carter was wasted, I was driving.”
Harden called out, “Acosta, Nix, you’re both mine for the week, but you’re done for today.”
“Sleep, then dinner,” Carter said. “See you at the mess hall?” Carter asked Lucy.
“I’ll be there.” She started to walk out with them when Noah called, “Kincaid, a minute please?”
Carter gave her an odd look, and Lucy shrugged. Harden left Noah and Lucy alone in the pool room.
Noah said, “I e-mailed your private account with the whereabouts of every new agent on Saturday from midnight until two a.m. Half were on campus. I’m verifying their background information, but you also have access and you need to be on alert for any discrepancies.”
She nodded, but looked at the door, hoping Carter, Eddie and the others would forgive her when this all came to light.
Noah eyed her. “What’s troubling you?”
“Other than the obvious? My mentor is dead and Hans is in a coma?”
“Lucy, I know this is hard-”
“I can handle it,” she snapped.
“You’re angry.”
She turned away and stared at the pool. The water was settling down from the laps. Watching it calmed her. Water always gave her peace.
“It’s being a spy,” she said quietly. “On my friends. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Noah, but I don’t have a lot of friends.”
“You have many friends.” Noah sounded confused.
She shook her head and faced him. “I have lots of family, and I love them, but my friends are few and far between. I haven’t kept in touch with anyone from high school or college. No one. I thought-” She shook her head. “Never mind.”
“Lucy, you know you can trust me.”
She shouldn’t be talking to Noah about this, but she was tired and upset. “I thought I was forming lifelong relationships with some of the people here.” She jerked her head toward the door. “Carter and Eddie, for example.”
“You’ll be happy to know they’re in the clear. They went out with a bunch of their Marine buddies from the base, didn’t come in until nearly three in the morning. Fortunately, Acosta doesn’t drink and we don’t have a DUI situation, but it was still a serious breach.”
Lucy sighed in relief. “Two down, thirty-one to go,” she mumbled.
“You still can’t talk about this, even with them.”
“I know. I don’t have to like it.” She took her hair band off her wrist and put her hair up.
“Chief O’Neal and I cleared Tom Harden first thing this morning and I just gave him a quick debrief. If you need to talk and I’m busy, you can go to him. But still, be discreet. You might want to touch bases with him now-he wants to talk to you.”
“I wouldn’t make a good CIA agent.”
Noah cracked a grin. “I don’t think you would. But you’re going to make a great FBI agent.”
If I stay.
But she didn’t say that to Noah.
Lucy found Tom Harden in his small office off the gym. Harden wasn’t a special agent; he was one of the few instructors who was a civilian. He’d been in the Army special forces and when he got out ran his own gym while getting his degree in physical training and nutrition. Five years ago Quantico brought him on to lead their revamped new-agent PT program.
“Noah said you wanted to see me,” Lucy said.
“Sit down.” He motioned to the only other chair in his office.
She did, antsy.
“Hans is a personal friend of mine.”
“Have you been to the hospital? How is he?”
“I went by this morning. I have one of the nurses sending me updates. There’s been no change.”
She let out a long breath.
“I’ll let you know if there’s a change in his status,” Harden said.
“Thank you.” She looked at him, curious. “You’re not a federal agent and Hans was never in the Army. How do you know him?”
“In 1999, a year before I left the Army, I was tasked with protective detail in Kosovo. The FBI agents and scientists were sent over to identify victims of genocide. There were several operations where small groups of agents went out to remote burial sites, we had a few close calls with insurgents, and Hans and I remained friends after it was over. He told me about the opening here five years ago. I never planned on working for the federal government-I liked having my own gym. But I was given a lot of leeway to develop this program, and I owe that to Hans. I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished here, and more confident that we’re sending out agents who are both physically and mentally prepared for the tasks they face.”