And she’d have to find a new emergency contact.
* * *
SITTING IN THE passenger’s seat of the Crown Vic, Devlin sipped his hot coffee, grateful for the shades shielding his eyes from the early-morning light.
“That should do it,” Detective Carol Jenkins said, switching off the recorder on the dash. “Thanks for answering all of my follow-up questions.”
“No problem. I just want to help in any way I can. It’s awful what those marshals did.”
“Yeah.” Detective Jenkins nodded. “It makes everyone in law enforcement look bad.”
“The one thing I can’t stand is a dirty cop. Or marshal, for that matter.” He took another hit of much-needed caffeine, trying not to choke on his lies. At 7:00 a.m., his brain was still fuzzy, but deception came naturally to him. No effort or thought required. “Thank you for the lift to the airport and for understanding about me needing to catch an earlier flight.”
“Of course. Who hasn’t had a family emergency? I’m sorry to hear about your brother-in-law’s heart attack.”
When Jeff had called Devlin, hysterical, his brother-in-law had sounded as if he was going to have an actual coronary. Those marshals had some audacity to waltz into their place filled with cops and beat Jeff for information. At least they only broke his finger. They could’ve broken his arm.
The good news was his plan was working.
His worst-case scenario was Yazzie and Killinger being arrested. The flash drive seized. Stuff went missing from evidence rooms more often than civilians would imagine. Hell, if he could sneak out weapons and bricks of cocaine, he would’ve found a way to smuggle out a tiny thumb drive.
But luck was on his side. The best-case scenario was in play. The marshals were virtually bringing the drive to him. He owned that city.
Now that he knew they were there, he’d find them.
Smoke them out if necessary while Devlin’s friend here in San Diego would tie up the loose end of the wife at Mission Medical.
“Detective, if you’ve got any other questions, I’m happy to answer them over the phone or even Skype.”
She nodded, pulling up to the terminal. “What time does your plane land?”
“I’ll be home by lunchtime. I’ll take my sister out for a bite to eat, give her a break from the hospital.” He’d have lunch all right, but not with his sister. His first stop would be Avido’s, to ensure Big Bill made the initial payment.
“I wish I had a brother as thoughtful as you.”
He shrugged. “I do what I can.”
“I hope your brother-in-law gets out of ICU and recovers.”
“Thanks. We’re all fighters in my family.” The strong survived. “I’ve got a good feeling that he’s going to pull through.”
* * *
IT WAS LATE morning by the time Aiden finished reviewing the evidence Edgar had hidden. After asking the concierge where he could buy a USB nearby, he dashed down a block and bought one. This city was great. Everything at his fingertips.
There was enough information on the drive to fill an encyclopedia. He copied about a chapter’s worth to the new memory stick and printed some choice documents on Walsh and his hostile business partner, Romero, that, when put in the right hands, would send them to prison for a very long time.
On his way back to the hotel, Aiden swung by a restaurant. Grabbed breakfast sandwiches, beignets and coffee with chicory, black for Killinger and au lait for him.
He put his key card in the slot. The little green lights flashed, the lock released, and he opened their room door.
Charlie was dressed and on her feet, moving toward him before the door shut behind him. “Where have you been? Are you all right? I’ve been worried sick about you. I checked the business center and the front desk to see if you got your own room.”
Good thing he’d used a computer at a different hotel. Otherwise he would’ve got sidetracked. He set the documents on the bed and handed her a coffee and a bag with her sandwich and half the order of beignets.
“What is this?” she asked, sounding bewildered.
“Breakfast and leverage,” he said coolly, nodding to the pages.
She stared at him wide-eyed. “Where did you sleep?”
“Didn’t. You?”
She shook her head, her eyes looking haunted.
He bit into a beignet. Warm and deep-fried and sweet, it hit the spot. He held up the pastry. “You should try one. You’ll like it, Killinger.”
She flinched at his use of her last name and grew overtly edgy.
If she wanted to play the he-was-her-brother game, he’d do her one better and play the they-were-only-partners game.
“We’re going to get Albatross back,” he said, trying to prevent things from getting unbearably awkward.
They were forced to be together, but he’d get his own room or, to conserve their limited cash, at least switch to double beds. The more professional he kept their interaction, the easier it’d make things.
No compromising positions. No embarrassing confessions. No kissing. No touching.
Stick to business and the monumental task at hand.
“How?” she asked.
“Blackmail.”
For the rest of the morning, they walked on eggshells around each other and avoided eye contact as he showed her the printouts and they hashed out a quasi plan.
They had to buy Edgar time and they had the power to do it. That was the easy part.
The rest would be tricky. There were too many variables beyond their control to know if it’d work. They had everything to lose, but it was their best chance. The key to success was proper redirection. Fortunately, Killinger was an expert at it and he was a quick learner.
He picked up the phone and dialed a number he’d written down last night.
The phone rang and was answered. “You’ve reached the FBI field office of New Orleans.”
He listened to the automated menu and hit the number for the prompt that he wanted. As luck would have it, someone answered on a Saturday. “This is Agent Simmons. How can I help you?”
“Hello, I’m calling from the US Marshals office. I was wondering if Agent Bryan McCaffrey was in today,” Aiden said, inquiring about the special agent in charge of the office, according to the website.
Most FBI field offices were open seven days a week and some of the larger ones worked around the clock. With a smaller office such as New Orleans, there was no telling if the boss would be in on a Saturday.