Dan hesitated, looking at Maggie. “You want to wait here in the lobby?”
“I’ll take care of her,” Joel assured him. “We’ll be in my office.”
If Dan noticed the blood fade from her face, he didn’t react. He just nodded his thanks to Joel and disappeared out the lobby doors with Vincenze.
“This way,” Joel said to Maggie. “My hole is in the back.”
She started down the hall, wondering how to make small talk without going to the past, the place she wanted to avoid.
“So,” he started, “have you met the infamous and incomparable Lucy Sharpe?”
The question surprised—and relieved—her. “I spoke with her on the phone before we came.”
“No sparks?”
She gave him a confused look.
“Between her and Dan. Rumor has it they’re an item, didn’t you know?”
Another surprise, but this one at her reaction to that news. What did she expect? That he’d never been attracted to another woman? A man like that? “He didn’t mention that.”
“It’s just a rumor, mind you. Lots of those where that operation is concerned. They’re sort of shrouded in mystique.” He laughed as they reached the door to his office, and gestured for her to go in first. “And money.”
“I’m really not that familiar with the company,” she said, crossing her arms and not taking a seat. How long would it take Dan to find that fortune?
“Bet you were surprised when he showed up after all these years, huh?”
Even five minutes with someone who had this much on her past was too long.
He ambled around his desk and sat in a creaky chair. “Sit down, Maggie. Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want something? Coke, coffee?”
“No thanks.” She sat and glanced around, looking for something to change the subject. But there wasn’t even a family picture or diploma or anything she could use to make a comment.
“Did you recognize him?”
“No, I didn’t.” She looked directly at him. “But I really wouldn’t have recognized you.”
He smiled, obviously taking that as a compliment. “I don’t do much UC anymore, but I was pretty good at it back in the day.”
He leaned forward, and there was a subtle shift in his features from amiable to something rougher. “You don’ remember your old pal, Juan?” The thick Spanish accent had a hint of something mean, and she sat back a little to get away from it.
“I do now.”
Instantly, he was himself again. “Sorry. I’m sure this is awkward for you.”
“A little.” She gave him a tight smile. “I appreciate that you understand that.”
“Let’s just proceed as friends, Maggie. I think what you’re doing to help is a noble thing, and we’re grateful.”
“I’m happy to help,” she said, keeping it as vague as possible.
“What do you have? One of the ‘missing fortunes’?” He air-quoted the words and added plenty of sarcasm.
“I take it you don’t believe they are the key to… anything?”
“Never have. That was Dan’s theory, and some others. Me? I was there that night with El Viejo. He made no effort to hide or conceal the fortune he had. It’s nice folklore—a hundred million in missing cash—but I doubt it ever existed. And if it did, Esteban went to the grave knowing where it is.”
“Not even Ramon?”
“The minute those agents busted in, El Viejo knew exactly where the leak came from. Ramon is persona non gratis with him, I suspect.”
“I really don’t know that much about it,” she said coolly. “I’m just trying to help Dan.”
“You haven’t answered my question. Do you have one of the fortunes? Because if you do, even a rogue investigator like Gallagher wouldn’t be foolish enough to keep that from the FBI, would he?” When she didn’t answer, he leaned forward. “Do you have one, Mrs. Smith?”
“Not anymore.” It wasn’t technically a lie. She’d hidden the fortune in the one place she thought was completely safe—Quinn’s backpack. If he was in a safe house, then so was his backpack.
“It’s okay, Maggie,” he said, reclining his chair casually. “Dan will eventually tell me; we’re good friends. You don’t have to worry about what’s safe to say or not.”
“Thank you,” she said. “And please, don’t feel like
you have to babysit me. If you have a meeting or something . . .” Please go to it. Now.
He flicked a hand. “It’ll wait. Tell me what you’ve been doing all these years? Living in Florida, still?”
“In the Keys.”
“Husband? Kids?”
“My husband passed away about four years ago, but I have a son, Quinn.” Before he could take a breath or ask how old,