minute” gesture, directing her to a chair with the same motion.
Ana perched on the edge of the seat, still at war with herself about what she’d seen. Had she moved them yesterday and just forgotten in the turmoil?
No. She knew she hadn’t. Gut-level knew it.
“So, what do you need?” Pretzky slapped the phone down and growled the words in Ana’s direction.
“All right if I shut the door?” That got an instant reaction. Pretzky paused in the act of pouring herself coffee, pinning Ana with a gimlet stare.
“Problem?”
“Possibly.”
“Shut the door and spit it out,” she ordered, muttering, “Like we need anything else.”
“I agree, for what it’s worth. Look,” she said, deciding that she had to lay her cards on the table with Pretzky, make an ally if she could. “I know you may not believe me, but I did everything I could in Rome to be sure, absolutely sure, I was right. Two people are dead because I didn’t run it by someone, double-check my data. I won’t make that mistake again.”
Pretzky’s grim look shifted to a more thoughtful, appraising glance. “And?”
“Someone moved the files on my desk,” Ana began.
The other woman shot forward, leaning on the desk. “You’re sure?”
Rubbing at her tired eyes, Ana nodded. “I’ve been second-guessing myself with everything, Special Agent. And I do mean everything. I’ve crossed my t’s and dotted my i’s so many times, I’m practically blind with it. You’d think I was OCD the way I’ve checked and double-checked things since Rome.”
“Obsessive-compulsive disorder notwithstanding, I’d expect nothing less. You have to be sure.”
“I’ve gone beyond the usual ‘sure,’ Special Agent. Trust me. The point is, because I’ve been so—” She hesitated, then just used the word that popped into her mind. “Paranoid, I know where everything is in and on my desk down to the last paper-clip. I’m not going to miss something through carelessness. I know it’s been moved,” she finished with firm conviction.
“The cleaning crew is cleared, but they know not to touch anything.”
“I know.” Ana brooded as she sat, wondering who would have been in her files.
“What was moved?”
“The other paper files. There are five boxes; I’ve gone through three. The last two are paper copies of the old phone records, interview duplicates, jurisdictional cross-checks. The last box, the one with the phone records, was moved just enough to set the lid down in the blank space. Someone shifted them down so they could open the one box I’ve not finished going through.”
“You’re sure?”
Ana nodded, feeling the twinge of doubt in her gut. She shut it down.
“That changes things,” Pretzky said with dark anger. “What else?”
“I—” Ana started, then stopped. Oh, hell. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I’ve been invited to attend a gala this evening. I wouldn’t do it, given the situation and your, uh, warning. However, a person of interest whose donor list very nearly matches the loss list is going to be there. I’m not sure I could get to him any other way.” That was her story, and she was sticking to it. “I wanted to make you aware of it.”
Pretzky relaxed into the chair’s embrace. “I see. Are you prepared for that kind of evening?”
“Prepared?”
The other woman rolled her eyes again, something Ana hadn’t realized she did with such regularity. “Do you have a dress, Burton? Are you prepped for that level of contact?”
“Shit,” Ana blurted out, mentally skimming through her closet. “No. Nothing.”
“Get out of here, go get something. But,” she cautioned, “be back by four.”
“Or I turn into a pumpkin?”
Pretzky laughed. “Something like that. Let me think about the other situation before you mention it to IAD, okay? I’d like to shake it off as nothing, but I’m taking no chances with this. Too much has happened too fast for this to be coincidence.”
Ana nodded, not trusting herself to comment. “I’ll be back by four.”
Ana didn’t even consider trying to bargain hunt. She took a cab straight to Maiden Lane, near Union Square. Bypassing Chanel and Prada as beyond her price range, she walked into Misioia Couture. An attractive young woman, painfully thin, glided her way.
“Good afternoon,” she said melodically. “I am Su. May I help you find something?”
“I need an evening dress for a gala.” She waited a heartbeat and dropped the bomb. “It’s tonight.”
Horror leaped into the girl’s eyes, and she scanned Ana’s muscular form and height. “Oh. My.” To her credit she recovered quickly. “If you would have a seat? I’ll be a moment.”
I’ll bet. “Thanks.” Ana sat