“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.
The receptionist spoke quietly and quickly into the phone and then hung up. She looked up and smiled at us.
“Ms. Chavez will be right out.”
“Right out” took ten minutes. A door finally opened behind the reception counter and a young woman with dark hair and dark features stepped out. She came around the counter and held her hand out to me.
“Mr. McEvoy, I’m Yolanda Chavez, Mr. McGinnis’s executive assistant. I hope you don’t mind my taking you around today.”
I shook her hand and introduced Rachel.
“Our appointment was with Declan McGinnis,” Rachel said. “We were led to believe that a firm of our size and business would merit the attention of the CEO.”
“Yes, I assure you that we are very interested in your business. But Mr. McGinnis is home ill today. I hope you understand.”
I looked at Rachel and shrugged.
“Well,” I said. “If we could still get the tour, we could then talk to Mr. McGinnis when he’s feeling better.”
“Of course,” Chavez said. “And I can assure you that I’ve conducted the plant tour several times. If you can give me about ten minutes, I will show you around.”