show of hunting through his papers before finding the one he sought. “For an hour and fifty-seven minutes.”
Lily’s heart began to pound. “That’s a remarkably precise figure . . . sir. I’m afraid I can’t confirm or deny the time frame you suggest. I wasn’t paying attention.”
“But I believe you can answer my question.” The drawl was getting thicker, making that more like Ah b’lieve you kin . . .
“Yes, sir. We talked about Ruben’s—ah, about Mr. Brooks’s health—”
“For two hours?” Astonished eyebrows flew up.
“—and his plans. Also some personnel matters.”
“Personnel matters? Would you care to clarify that for the committee?”
No, she really wouldn’t. “You are aware that the investigation into the attack on Mr. Brooks suggests the perp was someone connected to the Bureau, possibly to the Unit itself.”
“I am. I was not aware that you were part of that investigation.”
“No, sir, I’m not. Nor did Mr. Brooks make me privy to any details.” Stay on track, she told herself sternly. He wants you to keep talking in the hope he’ll get another hook he can tug on. “More to the point, neither Mr. Brooks nor I mentioned this committee or my testimony before it.”
“I see.” He hung enough doubt on those two words to convict her of any number of unnamed crimes and proceeded to ask a series of questions about the investigation, to all of which she answered that she didn’t know. “So you know nothing about this, ah, investigation, yet your superior wanted to discuss it with you. For two hours.”
Lily allowed herself a very small smile. “Sir, when I’m interviewing a witness or other source, it’s not necessary for the person I question to know anything about my investigation. Often it’s preferable if they don’t.”
“Hmm. So your Mr. Brooks questioned you about, ah . . . personnel matters.” The eyebrows sketched skepticism. “For two hours. It seems a most roundabout way of attempting to find this, ah, criminal.”
“It was more informal than that, sir, and it’s possible my interpretation of his intent is faulty.”
The senator on Bixton’s right leaned closer to him and murmured something Lily couldn’t hear. Bixton chuckled. “Well, Frank, if you want to make that motion out loud . . . no? I thought not. But you do have a point.” He went on to thank Lily for her time and tell her to please remain in Washington, as he anticipated that the committee would have more questions for her.
Lily left the senators and their stuffy, wainscoted room with her palms damp and her stomach churning. What had just happened?
She hadn’t lied, but she’d sure as hell done her best to mislead the U.S. Senate. That made her stomach hurt. But why had the subject of Saturday night even come up? Lily knew the rules. You couldn’t tell a witness what to say, but you could talk about what kind of questions to expect. Croft had done that with her. Not Ruben.
Had that whole were-you-coached bit just been a way for Bixton to bring up Saturday night? How had Bixton known that she and Rule had stayed for an extra hour and fifty-seven minutes? Had his chief of staff hung around after the party, watching to see when they left? Why would he do that?
Was it possible that Senator Bixton was one of hers?
TUESDAY she and Rule flew to New York State. Wednesday they returned. Thursday morning at seven ten she was in the kitchen, frowning at the muffin crumbs on her plate. “There has to be a way.”
“A way to what?” Rule entered the kitchen, sipping from a mug. He was dressed and ready for the day in black slacks, black shirt unbuttoned at the neck, and a black jacket.
Lily put a hand on her stomach. “To make this thing go where it’s supposed to.” She eyed him. Those were “going out” clothes, plus she’d seen the wrapper from a frozen breakfast burrito. For Rule, a frozen burrito was not a meal. It was a snack to tide him over until he had real food. “Breakfast meeting?”
“Mmm-hmm. Followed by one that may extend into lunch, but I’ll be free after that. You?”
“First an exciting round of paper shuffling at Headquarters, then a session with Mika.” The committee hadn’t released her. She and Rule were still stuck in Washington. “Who’re you eating with?”
“The early meeting’s with a venture capitalist and a Leidolf entrepreneur who needs capital to expand. Leidolf can’t back him, but he’s got a good business, a good plan for