Playing Dead_ A Novel of Suspense - Allison Brennan [135]
Agent Elliott asked quickly, “Did you say Drake? Judge Hamilton Drake?”
“Yes.”
“I have to go.”
“Why is that important?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Will you keep me in the loop? Please?” Claire hated to beg, but she didn’t want to make Megan Elliott so mad she wouldn’t keep her informed.
“As much as I can, I will.”
“I guess I’ll take it.”
“Thanks, Claire. If you want a recommendation to Quantico, let me know.”
She laughed. The first laugh in far too long. “Thanks, but I like working for Rogan-Caruso.”
“I can imagine.” She hung up.
Claire felt better knowing that the FBI was working the case hard. The truth would come out. It had to.
Yawning, she returned to the living room. The guys were all sitting around, relaxing. She sat on the couch next to Bill. “Eat too much?”
“I didn’t think so, but I sure feel like it.” He put an arm around her. “You holding up?”
“Yeah. I just talked to Agent Elliott and I know they’re on top of things. It’s just I wish I was there. I hate not doing anything.”
“You’ve already done more than enough,” Bill said. “If not for you, I don’t think they’d have half the info they have.”
“Maybe not,” she said. “I don’t know.” She yawned again.
“Claire, go ahead and go to bed. You’ve had a rough night.”
“Thought you guys were going to clean up?” she teased Dave.
“Phil’s doing the dishes,” Dave said. “He drew the short straw.”
She leaned her head against Bill’s shoulder and closed her eyes. “I’m so glad I have my dad back, Bill. But you will always be special to me. I wouldn’t have survived those years without you and Dave.” She felt herself drifting off. Bill didn’t say anything. She tried to open her eyes, but they felt thick.
“Claire?”
She heard a voice. Agent Warren? She thought she’d spoken out loud, but her tongue felt thick. A sliver of fear ran up her spine when she heard a heavy thud.
Then she heard nothing.
Mitch was the bad cop and he was irritated enough to play the role to a T.
Don Collier, the bastard, was saying nothing. He’d requested a damn lawyer who still hadn’t shown, and Mitch wanted to smash the defense-attorney-turned-law-professor’s smug face.
“We should let him go,” Hans said.
Mitch didn’t know what Hans had planned, and his initial reaction was to curse. He trusted Hans enough to follow through on the lead-in. “Shit, Vigo, what are you thinking?”
A faint nod told him that Hans had a plan and Mitch was on track.
“We really don’t have enough to keep him. Keep his passport, by all means, but let him go home.”
“I’d rather keep him behind bars,” Mitch said. “Lose him in the system.”
Collier wanted to say something, Mitch saw his jaw working, but he kept his mouth shut.
“Mitch, I’ve told you before that you’re going to keep going up before the OPR every time you let your temper run the investigation.” Hans stood, tapped on the window, and Meg came in. “Is the media still out front?”
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Right outside the gate. I can’t get rid of them.”
“Is there a back door where Mr. Collier can leave?”
“Sure, but they’re lining that street as well.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Why don’t you make a statement that Professor Collier isn’t under arrest, that he’s only wanted for questioning. I’m sure that will alleviate his mind. He’s probably worried about his position and tenure. I don’t want him to fear his job security because of this situation, especially if nothing comes of it.”
“No problem, I’ll write up a statement and have the SAC read it—”
“No!” Collier pounded his fist on the table.
Hans turned to him. “Mr. Collier, I don’t want to waste your time or mine. We can bring you in for a formal interview Monday morning. We simply want to make sure you can’t leave the country, until we find the answers we need.”
“Just—I’ll wait for my attorney. I want to get this over with.”
“So do we,” Hans said. “But your attorney is late.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s one o’clock on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. No one wants to be here.”
“I know what you’re doing,” Collier said. “You’re trying to get me killed.”
Mitch stared at him. “Give