Deep Hurt - Eva Hudson Page 0,4
to Ingrid a pretty lame excuse. Why didn’t he just come right out and admit his loyalties lay with his old friend, Marshall Claybourne?
“Hey, I’m not asking you for classified information, just a little heads up on a current case. It’s really important.”
Mike didn’t say anything. Normally his curiosity would have gotten the better of him.
“Just a couple phone calls to your contacts in the Minneapolis field office,” she said.
“All our calls are monitored now.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“The new boss is pretty tough. Takes no prisoners, you know what I mean?”
“Come on, Mike, it can’t be—”
“It’s Marshall, OK?”
“What?”
“The new boss—it’s Marshall. Started last month. He’s busy trying to prove himself right now. I’m sure he’ll mellow with time.”
“But I thought he was your friend.”
“I guess only when I was useful to him.”
Ingrid wondered if maybe he was getting at her, but quickly dismissed the notion. Marshall’s demands would be in a whole different league to hers. Obviously the breaking off of their engagement had done nothing to diminish his determination to haul himself up the greasy pole. She didn’t know if she felt relieved or disappointed that the end of their relationship had affected him so little.
“Listen, I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you guys,” Mike said after a long pause.
“It was on the cards. You and me can still be friends, right?”
“Sure we can. But getting you intel? It’s just not possible. Right now I gotta keep my nose clean. Marshall already got two agents transferred. And I like working here.”
Ingrid wasn’t sure what to say. Mike was still her best hope of getting all the information she needed, as fast as she needed it.
“Hey, are you OK?” he asked her.
“Fine.” She could already hear Svetlana’s mocking tone when she told her that the one time she’d asked for Ingrid’s help, she’d failed to deliver. “If you can’t help me, then I guess I do have to find somebody else who… I mean I need to…
“You sure you’re OK? You don’t sound fine. What’s going on?”
“I should let you get back to work. I don’t want you getting crap from Marshall on my account.” Her voice wavered and she let out an involuntary sob.
“I’m so sorry—I didn’t realize you were so cut up about Marshall.”
“God, I’m not! No way!”
“It’s OK—I understand. You guys were together for a long time.”
“It’s not Marshall, I swear.”
“Then what the hell…?”
Ingrid took a moment to compose herself. “I guess you must know about the case in Blue Earth County? The rescued abductees?”
“It’s impossible to avoid it.” She could hear him breathing noisily at the other end of the line. “Wait a minute, don’t you come from around there?”
This was the part she’d been dreading. In the two years she’d worked with Mike out of the D.C. office, she’d managed to avoid the subject of Megan Avery entirely, even when she’d surprised him by putting in a transfer request to the Violent Crimes Against Children Unit. “The house where they found the girls is thirty miles from my home town.” She could feel her throat tightening. “Megan, my best friend, was abducted eighteen years ago. I need to know if she’s one of the women they found.” She stalled and took a breath.
“Jesus Christ. I had no idea. Tell me what you need.”
Ingrid swallowed, grateful Mike hadn’t asked her for any more details about Megan’s disappearance. “All the information the local feds gather in as close to real time as you can get it. Including any audio or video interviews the witnesses, victims, or suspects participate in. I don’t want to get information from FBI reports, I want the facts straight from the source.”
“That’s gonna be tough.”
“I wouldn’t ask if it didn’t mean so much to me.”
“Sure. I understand.”
“Can you do it?”
Mike didn’t answer right away. Ingrid wondered if maybe Marshall had just stepped into the office.
“Mike?”
“I’ll make some calls. I can’t promise anything—it might take a little while to set up. You want me to send files to your private email account?”
“Please. This is strictly between you and me.” Ingrid swallowed again. Just mentioning Megan’s name to Mike had been tougher than she’d imagined. “As soon as you get positive IDs for any of the three women, you will let me know?”
“You didn’t even need to ask.”
“Thanks, Mike.” She hung up and leaned back in her seat. She’d been squeezing her cell phone so tightly it had left deep indentations in her right hand. She concentrated hard on forcing the muscles in her neck