Blood Trust - Eric van Lustbader [127]
Now Jack was truly worried. “What does her partner say?”
“Frankly, Agent McKinsey hasn’t been much help, and now, thanks to the intervention of Andrew Gunn, I can’t talk to him.”
“Fortress Securities,” Jack said, “that Andrew Gunn?”
“None other.”
Gunn had ties to Henry Holt Carson. “Why wasn’t it McKinsey’s boss who extracted him?”
“A question that needs to be answered.” There was a small pause. “Listen, Mr. McClure—”
“Jack. Please.”
“Fine. I know from talking to Naomi’s associates that you and she were friends, so I’m thinking maybe I can trust you.”
“You can, Chief.”
“Cut that out. It’s Nona.”
Jack laughed. He liked this woman.
“I’m very sorry to say this, but my gut is telling me that Naomi is dead.”
Jack struggled to accept this. “What gives you that feeling?”
Heroe told him about her suspicions concerning Peter McKinsey.
“It might very well be that you’re right,” Jack said. “I’m in Macedonia. While I was out of cell range, Naomi left three voice mails and now I’m very sorry I didn’t get them until a short time ago.”
Then he told Heroe about Naomi’s suspicions regarding her partner, following him out to Teddy Roosevelt Island. He did not tell her about Annika’s possible involvement, telling himself that bringing her into it would muddy the investigation unnecessarily. Not that that wasn’t true, but for his own reasons he was determined to protect Annika until he could determine exactly what her part in all this was.
“Christ,” Heroe said, “I think I’d better haul my ass out to the island tout de suite and have a look-see.” There was a short pause. “The man who was with McKinsey, could he be this Mbreti you told me about?”
“It’s possible, but I have a feeling not. Judging from Naomi’s description this man is an Arab of some sort. The way these people work, it makes more sense that Mbreti is a Caucasian American.”
The moment the words were out of his mouth, Jack knew he’d hit upon something important, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what.
He was silent so long that Heroe said, “What is it? Have you thought of something else?”
“I’m not sure. But, listen, since it seems clear that neither Naomi nor you trust McKinsey, is there any way to track her movements in the hours before she went missing?”
Heroe sighed heavily. “Without trusting him, I don’t know how. He claimed they were following leads on how Arjeta Kraja was brought into the country. He also said the leads were dead ends. According to his account, they then went back to the office. They were exhausted, which I can believe. He said Agent Wilde said she was going home. That, I’m afraid, is the sum and substance of his account.”
“Doesn’t sound like much.”
“No,” she said, “indeed it doesn’t.”
Jack considered. “So you can’t get to him.”
“He’s become a protected entity,” she said. “Just like your friend, Alli Carson.”
Jack heard the slight rebuke in her voice. “Alli was framed. Believe me, she’s got nothing to do with this.”
“You can’t deny that her frame was the trigger for three, maybe four homicides.”
Now they were skirting too close to Annika for his comfort. “All I’m saying is that pursuing her is going in the wrong direction.”
“Agent McKinsey doesn’t think so,” Heroe said.
“Can you think of a better reason to look elsewhere?”
* * *
THREE MINUTES after exchanging cell numbers with McClure, Heroe pulled up outside Rachel Cowan’s house. She figured she’d have to work ten lifetimes to afford that kind of mansion. Plus, the only black people around here were probably housekeepers and gardeners. The nannies were all young girls from Ireland or the Baltics.
She opened Naomi Wilde’s file, which she had obtained from Naomi’s superior, and read it again. Thirty-six years old, born in Wheeling, West Virginia, moved to D.C. when she was four. One living sibling, Rachel, two years her senior. Graduated with honors from Georgetown University, majoring in criminology, minoring in psychology. Tried her hand at forensic pathology before applying to the Secret Service. Partnered with Peter