Tessa focused in, scrutinized the board. And made her move.
6:57 p.m.
Using an undercover car, which he proudly notified me was his typical vehicle, Officer Lee Anderson had dropped me off at my car about thirty minutes ago. The meds hadn’t really kicked in yet, and every time I moved my arm or shifted my weight it felt like someone was driving a giant needle through my arm and wrenching it back and forth.
Needles again.
Man, I just couldn’t get them off my mind.
To make matters worse, traffic had stalled. Maybe there was an accident up ahead.
I shifted my weight.
Needles.
Think about something else.
Okay. Ralph’s news: Basque and Professor Lebreau’s disappearance. Unbelievable.
For a flickering moment, I considered the possibility that Basque might somehow be involved in the crimes here in DC, this week. A quick calculation told me the drive time from Michigan would have been tight but workable.
But even as I considered that, I realized the scenario didn’t work. The build of the unidentified man pushing the wheelchair into the Lincoln wasn’t right: Basque was nearly my height and stocky; that man was shorter and had a medium build.
So…
What could I do from here to help find him?
At first I couldn’t think of anything, but then Ah yes.
Not me.
Angela Knight, my friend in the cybercrime division. She and her computer she’d named Lacey could find just about anyone.
Traffic was at a standstill, so I pulled up a few jpegs from Basque’s case files on my cell and then called Angela and started by telling her about the IPR-OMI license plate. She told me she’d gotten word that the NSA guys were on it. “I’m backed up here like you wouldn’t believe.”
Considering how busy she was, I wondered if I should even tell her the main reason I’d called, but since I really didn’t have anything to lose, I just went ahead. “One more thing-”
“Pat, I know what you’re going to ask, but I haven’t had any more time to work on your Patricia E. cipher.” She sounded exhausted.
“This is about something else.”
“Oh.” A pause. “Let me guess: you need confidential information, you need it now, and you don’t want to fill out any paperwork.”
“You’re amazing. You read my mind.”
“What can I say, I’m psychic.”
“I had my suspicions.” I took the phone from my ear and tapped the screen to email her the jpegs while I edged the car forward a few feet, holding the steering wheel in position with my knees.
A small sigh. “What do you need?”
“I need you to find Richard Devin Basque. I don’t care how you do it-credit card use, driver’s license, his cell phone’s GPS. Hack into his lawyer’s computer. Her name is Priscilla Eldridge-Gorman. I can get her address for-”
“Hold on. What’s this about?”
I told her about Dr. Lebreau’s possible abduction and the all-too-conveniently timed disappearance of Basque.
“Who’s the agent in charge?”
“Kreger’s on Lebreau. Ralph’s flying up there right now to help look for Basque.”
Traffic moved forward slightly, then stopped again.
“Then why isn’t he the one calling me?”
“He’s playing this close to the chest,” I said evasively.
“Oh. I see. Richard Basque is a free man and not-let me see, how shall I phrase this?” A slight sting in her words. “‘A person of interest in the case,’ so placing an official locate on him could be considered harassment.”
“I wouldn’t put it quite like that.”
“How about like this: Ralph is going about this within the bounds of the law.”
I heard a ping. The email with the attached photos I’d just sent her had arrived.
She noticed it. “What’s that?”
“Pictures of his victims. To help convince you to help me.”
“I’m deleting them.”
“No.”
“I can’t do this, Pat. He’s a free man.”
“This woman who went missing yesterday, she’s the one who uncovered the DNA evidence that helped free him. It’s very likely he’s involved somehow. Her life is in danger.”
“If this locate doesn’t come from Ralph, I’m going to need authorization from Assistant Director Wellington.”
“Open the jpegs,” I said. “Look at what he did to his victims.”
“He was declared not guilty.”
“The jury made a mistake.”
A small pause. I wondered if she was looking at the photographs. She said, “This missing woman, that’s not the only reason that you want to find him, is it?”
“Finding her, making sure she’s okay, that’s our primary concern.”
“But not the only one. Not for you.”
I felt an uncomfortable itch on the back of my neck. “Okay, yes. I need to talk with Mr. Basque.”
“Talk.”
“Yes.”
“That’s it? Just talk?”
“Angela, you and I have worked together for five years.” It wasn’t an answer to her question. “Trust me on this.”
“I know how long we’ve worked together, that’s why I’m asking you the question. I’m concerned you might do something reckless.”
“Have I ever done anything reckless?”
“Are you being serious?”
“Okay, but I mean, apart from those times-whichever ones you’re thinking of.”
I heard a small snort-laugh.
Ah, good.
A chink in her armor.
“Help me out here, Angela. If anyone can find Basque, you and Lacey can.”
Angela treated her computer as if it were a real person. She claimed Lacey had emotions, good days and bad days, and was self-aware. I’d seen them work together enough to wonder if Angela might actually be right.
A pause. “We could get in trouble for this, you know that.” I wondered if “we” referred to me and her, or her and Lacey. “I could lose my job.”
“Your skills are very transferable. I wouldn’t worry too much.”
A small sigh. “Remind me again why I’m friends with you?”
“My scintillating personality.”
“Really.”
“Probably, that or my striking good looks.” I guided the car down the Garrisonville exit. “As soon as I hang up, I’ll send you everything I have on Basque.”
“Pat, if I find him, you have to promise you won’t hurt him, that you won’t do anything that would make me regret helping you.”
“Angela-”
“Promise, or I’ll wait to hear from Margaret, and we both know that’s something that’s not going to happen. Give me your word and I’ll trust you.”
I weighed my options.
“Pat?”
“I promise I won’t hurt him,” I said.
“Then I’ll find him.”
I thanked her and then the conversation was over. I sent her the information and then spent the rest of the drive home wondering how I would keep both my promise to her and my promise to Grant Sikora.
And I couldn’t think of any way to honor them both.
41
At the house I found Tessa and Cheyenne in the living room, seated across from each other at a chessboard.
“Check,” Tessa said, moving her knight to h7. When she looked at me, her gaze went immediately to the bandages on my arm. “What happened?”
“I got a little scrape. How are you doing?”
“A scrape?”
Cheyenne gave me a look of concern. “Is your arm all right?”
“I’m good.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“A scrape?” Tessa repeated.
“I’m all right.”
She considered that for a moment, then her eyes drifted to my new T-shirt. “Wow. You’re really stylin’ tonight.”
“Pink is the new black.”
“Really.”
Cheyenne momentarily went back to examining the board.
“It’s hip,” I assured Tessa.
She grimaced. “Hip?”
“Trust me. I have my finger on the pulse of all that is cool.”
“Please tell me you did not just say that.”
Cheyenne slid her rook across the board, took Tessa’s knight, and said, “Mate.”
Tessa refocused on the board, and her mouth gaped open.
“Seriously, Pat.” Cheyenne rose, came toward me. “Are you okay?”