I shook my head.
“Rachel, your actions, no matter how ill-advised or even illegal, saved my life for sure and probably a bunch of others’. You’ve got William Schifino and all the victims this Unsub will never get to now that he is known to authorities. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“Jack, don’t you understand? They didn’t like me at the bureau. Not for a long time. They thought they had me out of sight and out of mind but then I forced them to move me out of South Dakota. I got a piece of leverage and I used it, but they didn’t like that and they didn’t forget it. It’s just like anything else in life. One false move and you are vulnerable. They waited until I made the mistake that made me vulnerable, and they moved in. It doesn’t matter how many people I may have saved. There’s no hard evidence of anything. But the fuel bill on that jet? That’s evidence.”
I gave up. She couldn’t be consoled. I watched her take down her whole snifter of rum and then spit the ice cube back into the bottom of the glass. She then poured herself another shot.
“You better have some of this before I drink it all,” she said.
I held my snifter across the table and she poured in a sizable shot. I clicked my glass off hers and took a long pull. It went down smooth as honey.
“Better be careful,” I said. “This stuff is easy to get blasted on.”
“I want to get blasted.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll have to leave here by about nine-thirty tomorrow morning if you want to make our appointment on time.”
She put her glass down heavily and drunkenly on the table.
“Yeah, what about that? What exactly are we doing tomorrow, Jack? You know I have no badge anymore. I don’t even have a gun and you want to just waltz into this place?”
“I want to see it. I want to figure out if he’s in there. After that, we can call in the bureau or the police or whoever you want. But it’s my lead and I want to get in there first.”
“And then write about it in the paper.”
“Maybe, if they let me. But one way or another I’m going to write about this whole thing. So I want to be there first.”
“Just make sure you change my name in your book, to protect the guilty.”
“Sure. What do you want to be called?”
She tilted her head and tightened her lips as she thought about it. She raised her glass again and took a small sip, then answered.
“How about Agent Misty Monroe?”
“Sounds like a porn star.”
“Good.”
She put her glass down again and her face turned serious.
“So… enough fun and games. We go in there and we what, just ask which one of them is the serial killer?”
“No, we go in there and act like prospective clients. We take a tour of the place and meet as many people as we can. We ask questions about security and who has access to the sensitive legal files our firm will be backing up in storage. Things like that.”
“And?”
“And we hope that somebody gives themselves away or maybe I see the guy from Ely with the sideburns.”
“Would you even recognize him without his disguise?”
“Probably not, but he doesn’t know that. He might see me and make a run for it and then-ta da!-we have our guy.”
I raised my hands palms-out like a magician who has completed a difficult trick.
“This doesn’t sound like a plan, Jack. It sounds like you’re making it up as you go along.”
“Maybe I am and maybe that’s why I need you to be there.”
“I have no idea what you mean by that.”
I got up and came around to her side and got down on one knee. She was about to raise her glass for another drink when I put my hand on her forearm.
“Look, I don’t need your gun or your badge, Rachel. I want you there because if somebody in that place makes a false move, even a small one, you’re going to read it and then we’ve got him.”
She pushed my hand off her arm.
“Look, you’re exaggerating. If you think I’m some sort of mind reader who can-”
“Not a mind reader, Rachel, but you’ve got instincts. You do this work the way Magic Johnson used to play basketball. With a knowledge and sense of the full court. After just a five-minute phone conversation with me you stole an FBI plane and flew to Nevada because you knew. You knew, Rachel. And it saved my life. That’s instinct, and that’s why I want you there tomorrow.”
She looked at me for a long moment and then nodded so slightly I almost didn’t see it.
“Okay, Jack,” she said. “Then I’ll be there.”
The rich rum didn’t do us any favors in the morning. Rachel and I were both moving pretty slowly but still managed to get out of the hotel with more than enough time to make our appointment. We stopped at Hightower Grounds first to get some caffeine moving in our veins, then doubled back to Western Data.
The front gate of the complex was open and I pulled into the parking space closest to the front door. Before turning the car off, I took a final drag on my coffee and then asked Rachel a question.
“When the agents from the Phoenix office went in here last week, did they tell them what it was about?”
“No, they said as little about the investigation as possible.”
“Standard procedure. What about the search warrant? Didn’t it lay it all out?”
She shook her head.
“The warrant was issued by a grand jury that has a blanket mandate to investigate Internet fraud. The use of the trunk murder site fits under that. It gave us camouflage.”
“Good.”
“We did our part, Jack. You guys didn’t do yours.”
“What are you talking about?”
I noted her use of the word we.
“You’re asking if the Unsub, who may or may not be in this place, is aware that Western Data might fall into a greater focus. The answer is yes, but not because of anything the bureau did. Your newspaper, Jack, in its account of Angela Cook’s death, mentioned that investigators were checking the possible connection to a website she had visited. You didn’t name the site but that only leaves your competitors and readers out of the loop. The Unsub certainly knows the site and knows that if we are onto it, then it may only be a matter of time until we put it together and show up here again.”
“We?”
“Them. The bureau.”
I nodded. She was right. The story in the Times had blown it.
“Then, I guess we better go in before them shows up.”
We got out and I grabbed my sport coat out of the backseat and put it on while on my way to the door. I was wearing the new shirt I had bought the day before at an airport shop while waiting for Rachel to land. I wore the same tie for a second day. Rachel was wearing her usual agent outfit-a navy suit with a dark blouse-and she looked impressive, even if she wasn’t an agent anymore.
We had to push a button at the door and identify ourselves through a speaker before being buzzed in. There was a small entrance area and a woman sitting behind a reception counter. I assumed she was the person who had just talked to us through the speaker.
“We’re a little early,” I said. “We have a ten o’clock appointment with Mr. McGinnis.”
“Yes, Ms. Chavez will be showing you the plant,” the receptionist said cheerfully. “Let’s see if she’s ready to go a few minutes early.”
I shook my head.
“No, our appointment was with Mr. McGinnis, the company CEO. We came down from Las Vegas to see him.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s not going to be possible. Mr. McGinnis has unexpectedly been detained. He is not on the premises at the moment.”
“Well, where is he? I thought your company wanted our business, and we wanted to talk with him about our particular needs.”
“Let me see if I can get Ms. Chavez. I’m sure she will be able to speak to your needs.”
The receptionist picked up the phone and punched in three digits. I looked at Rachel, who raised an eyebrow. She was getting the same vibe I was getting. Something was off about this.