The 7th Victim - Alan Jacobson [87]
She turned on the radio, not bothering to change the station—it didn’t matter what was playing, because she wasn’t listening. It merely served as background noise to take her mind off where she was headed, and what she would say when she got there. As dusk descended, she turned on her headlights and exited at Georgetown Pike. The area of Great Falls was a sprawling community set amongst rolling hills, forests of mature oak and helm, and million dollar homes.
As Vail drove down Potomac River Road, darkness’s arrival seemed to accelerate, the remaining light filtered by the dense blind of branches and leaves. She hung a right onto a shoulderless single-lane residential road and flicked on her dome light to check the directions she had scribbled on a piece of paper. The house on the left was an Early American three-story brick mansion. Vail squinted at the lamppost, which lit an address sign surrounded by well-manicured hedges. She turned onto the gravel driveway that cut through an expansive lawn and led straight to the entrance of the home.
Security lights popped on as her car approached the circular turnaround. She parked and got out, walked up to the door, and pressed the bell. A hearty chime sounded up and down the scale. Ten seconds passed, but it seemed like minutes before the hand-tooled oak door finally swung open.
Chase Hancock stood there, eyebrows raised slightly. “Vail, what are you doing here? Come to beg your way back onto the task force? Or did you come here to kick my butt?”
“That’s funny, Hancock. I’d prefer the latter, but it’s none of your business why I’m here. Is Senator Linwood in?”
Hancock squinted. “Are you here on official business? Otherwise, call ahead and make an appointment.”
Vail forced a smile. “Thanks so much for that thoughtful bit of advice, but I’m not in the mood for your bullshit. My business is with the senator, not with you. Now move aside or I’ll move you myself.”
Hancock stepped forward and threw his chest out. “You’re trespassing, Vail. I suggest you turn around and leave with your tail between your legs before I arrest you. Citizen’s arrest, I can still do that.”
“That won’t be necessary.” The voice came from behind Hancock. Vail craned her neck around his wide body and saw Eleanor Linwood standing there, still dressed in her business suit.
“I’m sorry we made so much noise, Senator,” Hancock said. “I’ll take care of this. Agent Vail was just leaving.”
But Linwood continued to move forward and was now standing beside her head security agent. “That’s okay, Chase, I’ll take it from here.”
“But—”
She turned her head to face his. “I’ve got it, thank you.”
Though it was a moment Vail wanted to savor—she hadn’t had many of those lately—she struggled to contain her smile.
As soon as Hancock walked off, Linwood’s face hardened. “You wanted to see me, Agent Vail.”
“Yes, Senator. I wanted to speak to you about . . . a private matter. Can we go somewhere to talk?”
Without comment, Linwood turned and walked down the wood plank hallway, her heels clicking as they struck the floor. Vail followed, her head rubbernecking in all directions as she took in the décor: the high ceilings and ten-foot windows of the formal dining room, rough-hewn beams, stone fireplace, and lace curtains of the living room. They turned left into a smaller room with a paisley sofa and hardwood plantation shutters. Linwood sat on the edge of the couch and motioned Vail to do the same. Vail reached over and shut the door, an action Linwood found suspicious, judging by the squint of her eyes.
“What can I do for you, Agent Vail? Or is it your policy to drop in on elected officials’ homes unannounced?”
She put Vail on the defensive with practiced ease. “I apologize, Senator. I didn’t think you’d see me if I called ahead.”
“Perhaps you’re correct.” She glanced at her watch. “And unless you provide me with a compelling reason for this visit in the next thirty seconds, I’ll have my very efficient security agent show you the door.”
Vail bit the inside of her cheek. She didn’t care for the senator’s smug