Find Her Alive (Detective Josie Quinn #8) - Lisa Regan Page 0,40
you are,” he said. “She talks about you all the time. Why do you have her phone? Is she okay?”
“Have you watched the news at all today, Mr. Nally?”
“No, I’ve been in meetings all day. Why? What happened? Is she okay?”
“How do you know Trinity, Mr. Nally?” Josie asked.
He made a noise of frustration. “Agent Nally.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Special Agent Nally. I’m an FBI agent with the New York field office. I know who you are, and I know what you’re trying to do here, so let me save you some time. Trinity and I met last year while she was covering a story. We’ve been seeing each other, sort of, for the last few months. You didn’t know who I was which means she didn’t tell you about me. If you’re calling me on her phone to get information from me then something bad has happened to her. I’d really like to know what.”
Josie took a deep breath. “If you know what I’m trying to do, then you know I’m going to need to verify your identity before I give out any information.”
His tone was one of barely controlled rage. “My SAC is Erin Bacine.”
“Give me a minute,” Josie said. “In the meantime, turn on the news.”
She put the phone on mute and set it on her desk. It took fifteen minutes to confirm with Drake’s Special Agent in Charge in the FBI New York field office that he was, indeed, who he claimed to be. When she picked up Trinity’s phone again, unmuted it, and said hello, Drake answered, “I saw the news. Text me the address of your station there. I’ll be there later tonight.”
“Agent Nally,” Josie said. “I really need you to answer some—”
“I know,” he said. “You’ll have a chance to ask your questions, but this is something we need to discuss in person. I’m on my way.”
Then he hung up.
Twenty-Two
Josie stared at the phone for a long moment after Drake disconnected. He wasn’t just coming to the station house because he had been in some kind of relationship with Trinity. This was something else altogether. She checked the time on her phone. It was after eight in the evening and he was driving straight to Denton. “This is something we need to discuss in person,” had never sounded so ominous. She updated Mettner and Gretchen. Then, using Trinity’s phone, she texted Drake the address of Denton police headquarters. She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s just me,” Noah said.
Josie looked up at him and tried to smile.
“Lisette’s downstairs in the conference room with Shannon and Christian. Your brother went back to his dorm room.”
Josie stood. “Thank you. I’ll go see her.”
“You might want to wait,” Noah said. “Mett, Gretchen? Trinity’s assistant just arrived. She’s down in the lobby. I told Sergeant Lamay to put her in interview room one.”
The two detectives stood, Gretchen grabbing her notepad and pen and Mettner his phone. “You guys want to watch on the CCTV?” Mettner asked. “I don’t want all four of us in there. She’s not a suspect, we just need to ask her some questions. Less is more in this case, I think.”
Noah gave him the thumbs-up. He placed a palm on Josie’s back and they followed their colleagues down the hall, stepping into the small anteroom next to interview room one where a large television screen showed a young woman with long blonde hair, smartly dressed in skinny jeans, knee-high leather boots, and a matching brown cashmere wrap sweater. She had perched on the edge of the table inside the room, her head bent to her phone, manicured fingers tapping away at its screen. Josie had only met her once, a year earlier, and she had been far too hungover to retain any details about the woman other than that she was probably in her twenties and that Trinity likely overworked her. At the time, Josie had been following a lead on a homicide case, had met up with her ex-fiancé and gotten drunk. Trinity had driven deep into the mountains to get Josie back, bringing her assistant along to drive Josie’s vehicle back to Denton.
Gretchen and Mettner stepped inside the interview room and the woman strode confidently toward them, extending the hand not holding her phone toward Gretchen first and then Mettner. “Jaime Pestrak,” she said. “The other officer told you I’m Ms. Payne’s assistant, right?”
“He did,” Mettner said. “Thank you for coming. Please, have a seat.”