She hoped she would find one of them somewhere along the way and begin to get some answers as to what either or both of the political bloggers saw that caused the security around the cabin to go ballistic. It ate at her that she’d not gotten more information for the Judge from the Kentucky meeting. She felt like she’d failed him. He didn’t seem to share the same view. “Dara, kid, what could you have or should you have done differently? You couldn’t have gotten to the meeting any earlier because you didn’t know where it was so you followed and did what you are supposed to have done, try to get into position to take pictures and video. What if you hadn’t worked your mole inside Wellesley’s campaign? What if you hadn’t tracked Connolly to Kentucky? What if you didn’t get pictures of him at this meeting? Where would we be then? We will identify these people and we will piece it together. We know they’re up to something and that is a good thing.”
“But Judge, there isn’t a lot of time. The election is days away and what if we don’t find the answers or don’t get them in time?”
“We’ll deal with what if, if and when ‘what if’ comes,” the Judge replied calmly, as good a crisis manager as there was. “You are not the only one on this now, I’m in on this and I’ve got people I can and will reach out to. We will get answers, kiddo. We will.”
Wire wasn’t convinced but the Judge pumped her up.
“Listen, Dara, we’re where we are in large part because of the boost we got out of the Florida Keys and that was all you, honey. That was all you. And knowing about Kentucky now is all you. So what you need to do now is stay on it, work it and see where it leads.”
Wire had no idea where it led.
It was time to find out.
She finished her run, quickly showered, put on fresh clothes, ate two pieces of wheat toast, threw a few more additional sets of clothes in a duffel bag, grabbed her coffee tumbler and jumped into the Land Rover. Stroudt’s address was plugged into the GPS and she pulled away for a ten-minute drive.
As she reflected on where her latest investigation stood, she took stock of what she did have. She had good video and photos of Connolly and she had the cabin owner’s name and would look into him further. However, what gnawed at her was that there were three and maybe four other key people at the meeting they had yet to identify. She had clear pictures of two of the men who were in the cabin. However, one of them had proven particularly elusive and she only had a couple partials of his face. Then there was the limousine that had arrived but the man, other than his leg, never got out. Who was he? The pictures she did have were being showed discretely around the campaign to see if any of the faces rang a bell, but there was nothing so far.
This made connecting with either Stroudt or Montgomery all the more necessary. Wire knew that Stroudt and Montgomery had cameras and were taking pictures, so she was hoping that she would be able to perhaps exchange information with the two of them.
Wire turned onto the street for Stroudt’s condominium and stopped. Three patrol units were parked in front of the condominium development along with an unmarked squad car and a Chevy Suburban with Fairfax County Crime Scene stenciled on it. Wire pulled over to the curb, turned off the engine and took in the scene. There was no ambulance or coroner’s wagon, so perhaps there wasn’t a dead body inside. Maybe it wasn’t even related to Stroudt’s place, although she didn’t believe in coincidences. She pulled out her regular cell phone and hit the directory for E and scrolled down to Alex Esposito. Esposito, the Alexandria police chief, was an old acquaintance from her FBI days. She placed a call.
“Espo, it’s Wire.”
“Blast from the past. Dara, how are you?”
“I am well, Alex. How are Jan and the kids?”
“They are doing great, thanks for asking. Is this a social call?”
“Sadly it is not. I’m sitting outside of the Sumner Lofts, looking to go inside and speak to someone and there are three Alexandria patrol cars and an unmarked out front. Do you