had been taller than five stories and he had been on a higher floor, the old town house would not have worked as a shooting nest.
But they would have just found another place that did work.
Robie assumed that bulletproof glass was being added to the windows of many agency buildings right this second.
It was clear that Reel, or whoever the shooter had been, was in possession of the layout of Jacobs’s office. Back to the window, computer screen in front. No obstructions to the flight path of the killing round. Chest shot, wrecked the heart, clanged off a rib, and exited the body, hitting the computer.
Robie was guessing about the collision with the rib. If the bullet had passed right through the body it would have hit the top of the desk most likely, not the computer. The angle was too extreme. Ribs were hard enough to change a bullet’s flight path. He hadn’t seen Jacobs’s autopsy results, but he wouldn’t be surprised to see that sort of internal damage.
So the shot was fired. Jacobs was dead. If Reel were the shooter she would have heard through her headset the window breaking, the impact of her round with Jacobs, and Jacobs dying. Confirmation of a kill. It was always nice to have when you were firing blind through a window.
And she would have had possession of the layout of Jacobs’s office. Reel wouldn’t have actually been shooting “blind.”
Inside info again.
Like my email address.
She might be following me right now. Or she might be here waiting for me, figuring I would come to the town house at some point.
Robie scanned the street below, but saw nothing other than people scurrying along to get out of the rain. But people like Reel wouldn’t show themselves so carelessly. Robie looked down at his shoe. Something white was sticking out from under the sole. He picked the item off. It was soft, falling apart. He held it to his nose. It had a scent.
Then Robie forgot about that when he heard a disturbance outside the house. Raised voices. Sounds of footsteps on the front porch.
He raced out of the room and down the hall. He reached a window where he could see the front door. There were people clustered out there. An argument was going on. Robie could see people he assumed were from his agency.
And he could see other people who were not.
They were easy to tell apart. The ones not from his agency were wearing blue windbreakers with gold lettering on the back.
There were only three gold letters. But they were three letters Robie did not want to see.
FBI.
And when he saw who was heading up the FBI agents he turned and moved as quickly as he could toward the rear of the house.
He was meeting Nicole Vance for dinner at eight.
He did not want to meet her inside this town house in the next two minutes.
CHAPTER
8
ROBIE KNEW HOW TO EXIT QUIETLY. He did so now, coming around the corner and watching from behind some bushes as Vance continued to argue with the other men.
He pulled his phone and sent a text to Blue Man.
A minute later Robie saw one of the men arguing with Vance touch his ear.
Message communicated.
He stopped arguing and Robie heard him say, “The place is yours to search, Agent Vance. We’ll leave you to it.”
Vance halted in midsentence and stared at the man.
Robie ducked down as she swiveled her head, looking in all directions. He could tell she knew exactly what had just happened. The dogs had been called off. The place was open to her now. That order had come from high up. Some condition had changed in the last few seconds.
Robie was on the move, because he knew that Vance’s next tactic might be to send her men rushing in all directions to look for the source of the change on the ground. He didn’t want her to discover that the source was him. It would make dinner later even more uncomfortable than it was already shaping up to be.
Robie reached his car and drove off. He punched in a number and Blue Man answered almost immediately.
“Thanks for the assist back there,” said Blue Man.
Robie snapped, “I’m meeting with Vance tonight. Agreed to it before I knew she was involved in this. Would have been nice to know before. Getting blindsided like that out of the gate does not inspire confidence.”
“We didn’t know she had been assigned to it. We don’t run the FBI. I