Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,23
asked.
“No. Tell me about Dana Smith.”
She checked her phone before setting it facedown on the wooden counter. Then she glanced around the shop and leaned closer.
“I can’t tell you much,” she said in a low voice.
“Then why’d you call me?”
She tipped her head to the side. “Don’t get pissy. I’m doing you a favor here.”
“Is she an agent or a CI?” Jacob asked.
“Neither.”
A barista called out a skinny latte, and Morgan stood up. “Just a sec.”
He watched her get her coffee, and she used the opportunity to check her phone again before returning to the stool. She took a sip and wiped lipstick off the lid, and Jacob tamped down his impatience.
Morgan eased close again. “She’s WITSEC.”
Jacob stared at her.
“But you can’t act like you know that,” she said.
“Right.”
“I mean it. I’m not even supposed to know.”
He leaned closer. “You’re telling me my homicide victim is in the federal witness protection program, but I can’t act on that information? Don’t you think this is relevant to my case?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course, but—”
“So, the murder was a hit.”
Her eyes turned fierce. “You absolutely cannot jump to that conclusion. It could have been a mugging gone wrong, like they’ve been saying on the news.”
“Okay, potentially a hit. Either way, it’s an avenue we need to investigate.”
“No, you don’t.”
He laughed.
“I’m serious, Jacob. This isn’t your case anymore.”
He tensed. “How’s that?”
“I heard Mullins is taking over.”
“Like hell.”
“He is.” She glanced at her watch. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already contacted your commander.”
Richard Mullins was in charge of the FBI’s satellite office in Austin, which had been expanding recently, along with the city’s population. Jacob had crossed paths with the guy before on a human trafficking case, and he wasn’t a fan.
Morgan glanced around and leaned close again. “The official line is that Dana Smith had a connection to an ongoing federal case, and therefore we’re taking over the investigation.”
“What about my team? We’ve already racked up a ton of hours on this thing, and it’s been all over the news. They expect us to just drop it?”
“That’s exactly what they expect. And that’s what’s going to happen. You guys will release her name, since it’s already out there anyway—”
“You said it was an alias.”
“That’s what I mean. Dana Smith. You guys will release that, and there will be a flurry of reporting, and then we’ll quietly take over from there, and the story will die down.”
“And we never make an arrest.”
“We’ll handle it.”
Jacob shook his head. “Not happening.”
She smiled slightly. “You’re not getting it, Jacob. It isn’t up to you. This has all been decided already. I’m just telling you, in confidence and as a personal favor, because I can’t stand for you to be kept in the dark. I know how invested you are with your cases.”
He watched her. Was that the real reason, or did she have some other agenda?
“Why?” he asked.
“Why what?”
“Why are you doing me this personal favor?”
She huffed out a breath. “Because. I respect you, all right? And even though things ended, we had six good months together.”
Jacob watched her, trying to read her eyes. She sounded sincere, but he’d learned she didn’t always tell him the full story, especially when it came to her job. Morgan was a workaholic. So was he. If either one of them hadn’t been, their relationship might have stood a chance.
She flipped her phone over. “I’ve got to get back. I’m supposed to testify in fifteen minutes.”
“Wait. I need more. What’s her real name?”
“I don’t know,” Morgan said. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“How’d you guys hear about this?”
“I don’t know, but I’m guessing when someone ran those fingerprints, it triggered an alert with the Marshals Office.”
“What case was she a witness in?”
“I don’t know that, either. Everything I just told you, I picked up from an agent friend here in Austin, and he’d kill me if he knew we were having this conversation right now.”
“Where was the trial? Do you know that at least?”
She stared at him.
“Come on, Morg. Give me something.”
She checked her phone again and stood up. “I’m going to be late for court.”
“Morgan.”
“This is out of my hands, and it’s out of yours, too. You can’t control everything all the time, Jacob. You need to let it go.”
He held her gaze and waited. He saw the ambivalence in her eyes, and he knew she was well aware he wasn’t dropping anything. He was a detective. This was his case, in his