simple Google search leads me to believe Charles Randolph is knee-deep into ninety percent of the dark shit going on in Congress. Somehow he keeps coming out smelling like roses instead of the outhouse he plays in. He’s the keynote at an event the week after next—the one she wants a ticket to. I don’t need to pull his file to remember him shouting from the damn rooftops after the explosion in Barcelona.” I don’t say it out loud but we both know he’s why she’s here.
I toss my bag on the floor next to my desk and listen to silence.
“Asa?” I bite.
“Bella is going to waltz her ass into the Kennedy Center where Randolph is the big attraction?”
“That’s her plan. And you know she’s gonna do it whether I help or not. The only way for me to manage this is to be there as her backup.”
He laughs.
The bastard actually laughs at me.
“Only you,” his words shake with fucking amusement at my expense. “Would harbor the most-wanted former British Intelligence asset in modern history in your fixer-upper farmhouse and then help her get close to the man who heads up the Anti-Terrorism Committee in the Senate. Not only that, he’s the one who called for her head in connection to a bomb that killed a bus load of people.”
I drag a hand down my face. “Had she known about that, she would have stopped it. You know it.”
“I never thought she did know about it. Crew wouldn’t work with her if he thought she did, either.”
“Then why are we going through this again?”
“Because it’s ironic.”
“Nothing ironic about it. Now I know why she came to the States but I still don’t know Randolph’s connection.”
I almost hear him roll his eyes. “Maybe you should ask her.”
I fall to my chair. “It’s complicated. That’s not how we operate. Look, I’ve had your back over the years—helped you and your boys with all kinds of shit that I probably shouldn’t have. I need you to do this for me.”
“He’s a politician which means he’s a scumbag. What else do you want to know?”
“I don’t know what I need to know, which means I need to know everything.”
He sighs. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“I appreciate it. I also need two tickets to that event, if you run into any while you’re asking around, buy them and I’ll pay you back.” I take a gulp of my coffee. “And bring Saylor over to the house again soon. Red’s taking Abbott to the Humane Society to get a cat today.”
“Saylor would love that. How’s Abbott?”
“Quiet. Shy. Doesn’t want to leave the house, not interested in making new friends, and she’s got mommy issues.” I sit back in my chair and turn to look out the window. “Nothing has changed. And I don’t know what to do about any of it.”
“You’ve got a full plate.”
“I do. I’ve got calls to make. Let me know what you find out.”
“Talk soon.”
I hang up and pick up my other phone, pushing go on the number that had better pick up the other end.
A groan creeps over the line. “I was asleep.”
“The deposit wired into your bank account in the last hour is proof enough I don’t care if you’re dreaming of sugarplum fairies, Raji. I need an update and you didn’t call last night like you said you would, so here I am—fishing for the information you’ve been paid for. Again.”
I hear rustling in the background. “Since when did you become such a micro-manager?”
I pull his file out of my bag. “Since you don’t check in when you say you will and my boss is all over my ass about you earning your paycheck.”
“Fair enough. I had a late night and crashed.”
“Your late night better have had something to do with our target.”
“Who do you think you’re working with?”
“Raji, unlike you, I do have other cases. Can you get to it today?”
“Fine. I picked up the trail of that plane. It made three stops before finally landing at a small airstrip in Yemen. All I know is it’s heading back my way. I assume our friends are not on it.”
“I need names of the lower-level, Raji. Pictures would be better. Who got on the plane?”
“I’m not a hundred percent, but I’ve narrowed it down to who I think they could be by who I haven’t seen. My guys here helped. Arif Nahas, Harb—I don’t have a first name, and a Tom Crowley.”