26
Shanice gingerly touched a hand to the tender spot beside her eyebrow. She had a headache and bruise from when Jacob had hit her after he and his accomplice yanked her from the SUV.
She could hear Miles and Cruz arguing behind the closed door. Either they didn’t know she could hear them, or they didn’t care. They’d been in there for ten minutes while she waited in the outer office.
The first five minutes she didn’t hear a word, but then Cruz raised his voice and Miles responded by matching his tone.
“Bull. Shit,” Cruz said.
“Shouldn’t you be thanking me?”
Shanice appreciated Miles, even if Cruz didn’t. She’d never been handcuffed before, and the police officers were none too gentle until two men, whom Cruz later explained had been sent by Miles, showed up at the police station as they were about to get booked. Cruz and Shanice were released within minutes.
“Thank you for what? I trusted you to get her here safely, and instead you almost got her killed!” Cruz yelled.
“I didn’t almost get her killed. Somehow the information got leaked.”
“On your watch. Who the hell leaked that we were coming, Miles?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m working on it.”
“You better damn well find out before I do.”
“Lucky for you they didn’t know who they were dealing with. They should have sent an army.”
“Remind me to punch you in the face when this is all over.”
Shanice couldn’t believe Cruz was speaking to a supervisor that way. Then again, maybe she could.
“I’ll be sure to do that,” Miles said.
The door was yanked open and both men came out, faces set in angry lines. Miles wore a tan suit, and Cruz still had blood smeared all over him from holding her. Since their arrival, she had gone to the restroom and washed her face and cleaned up her hair as much as she could. She washed the blood off her arm, but her clothes were still stained with the sticky red stuff, and she couldn’t wait to get naked and take a warm, cleansing shower.
Miles sat in the chair beside her, concern in his dark eyes. “How are you doing?” He was a good-looking man with dark skin, a full beard, and looked to be in his late thirties.
Before going into the office, Cruz had explained that Miles worked in a different building, but he’d arranged for the interview to take place at the U.S. Department of Justice because they would review the evidence and take over the investigation.
“I’ve been better,” Shanice answered.
At least she still had her sense of humor. Either that or she’d crack under the strain of the night’s events. Maybe she was getting stronger. Maybe she was in shock.
Miles smiled at her. “You’ve been through a lot, but the worst is over. Now we get to mete out justice. Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to interview you and Cruz and get as much information as we can while the details are fresh in your memory. That’s going to take several hours, and it’s already late. I know we’re asking a lot, but are you up to it?”
Shanice glanced at Cruz, who stood like a hulking sentinel standing guard over the conversation. She had no doubt if she said she wasn’t up to the interview, he’d whisk her out of there and there was nothing Miles or anyone else could do about it.
Returning her attention to Miles, she said, “I’m ready to do whatever it takes, even if it means staying here all night.”
A smile lit up Miles’s face. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. There’s one more thing you should know. I told Cruz that we can’t do anything about Senator Sandoval, but we can make sure we nail Logan.”
That part of the conversation must have taken place before they started yelling.
“Does that mean Senator Sandoval will get away with his involvement with Logan Investors?” Shanice asked.
“Assuming he’s privy to what took place, I’m afraid so. The truth is, we don’t have enough to pursue an investigation, and we think it’s best not to implicate him at all.”
Shanice didn’t like that resolution, and by the grim set to Cruz’s lips, he didn’t, either. But she had to believe that Miles and the Department of Justice knew what they were doing.
They left the office and went down a long hallway into a more opulent room that contained a gold and burgundy rug that covered most of the floor. Portraits of past Attorneys General hung on the wood-paneled walls, and the United States and the districts’ flags sat erect in front of a long conference table.
There were three other men in the room. One sat before a stenotype, while the other two were dressed in suits and stood when Shanice, Cruz, and Miles entered.
The older man with gray hair approached and extended his hand to Shanice. “Miss Lawrence, I’m U.S. Attorney General George Callahan. Your interview will be video recorded, and we’ll also have someone taking notes.”
Shanice nodded. “Okay.”
The other man extended his hand. “I’m Michael Monroe, with Senator Sandoval’s office. Because of the close relationship Senator Sandoval had with Dennis Ray, he wanted to be kept abreast of what happens here tonight. I’m only here to observe and report back to him.”
Shanice glanced at Cruz, whose right hand clenched at his side, but he said nothing.
“Nice to meet you,” Shanice said.
Both men reclaimed their seats. Shanice sat down and Cruz sat beside her. He took her hand under the table and squeezed. He didn’t look at her, but his touch made all the difference. She almost burst into tears at the gentle, comforting pressure. Having him by her side made her feel stronger and not so alone.
“Are you ready to get started?” Miles asked, seated across from them.
“Yes,” Shanice replied.
The other men nodded, and Miles pressed a button on a control box in the middle of the table. A flashing light caught her eye in the front wall. That’s when she noticed the video camera lens. The recording had started.
Miles began. “For the record, my name is Miles Garrison. The date and time is…”
In the backseat of a limousine provided by Miles, Shanice sat with her eyes closed, the back of her head resting against the seat. She no longer cared to see the sights. It was almost dawn and all she wanted was to crawl into bed and get a good night’s sleep. The way she felt—battered and weary—she was pretty sure she wouldn’t wake up until the next day.
They arrived at a hotel that would be a splurge if she were to pay for it herself. A chandelier sparkled in the ceiling, and white marble tile spanned from the reception desk to the carpeted sitting area.
A smiling female employee greeted them at the door. The statuesque woman wore a crisp blue uniform and her dark hair was pulled into a bun.
Shanice couldn’t help being a little jealous of her clean clothes and neat hair.
“Hello, I’m Stella. We have your rooms ready. Follow me, please.”
Shanice trudged behind the hotel employee with Cruz pulling up the rear. They rode the elevator in silence and exited on the fifth floor.
“Your rooms are next door to each other,” the woman explained.
She opened the first one, and Shanice entered. Her backpack was already in there, having been retrieved from the scene where the Suburban had been overturned. She thought about J.C. and Sam and the other men in the escort vehicle. Like Dennis, their lives had been taken to hide the misdeeds of an evil, greedy man.