Unsolved (Invisible #2) - James Patterson Page 0,36
until I’ve had my coffee, Pully.”
“Who’s joking?”
Rabbit, who seems annoyed, says, “Did anyone remind Dwit that the last time you supposedly went rogue, you found a serial killer nobody else even knew existed?”
My crew is protective of me. We are protective of one another.
“Anyway,” I say, shifting the topic. “Give me a status on our favorite domestic terrorist, cherished team members.”
“Ladies first,” says Pully, nodding to Rabbit, amusement in his eyes.
“Since when do you have manners?”
“I’m going to start being deferential to my elders.”
Rabbit puts a hand over her face. “Eric, honey, never remind a woman of her age.” She looks up and addresses my question. “Tollway cameras, so far, are a dead end.”
Rabbit has been working the data captured from tollway cameras on the routes taken between the bombing sites, hoping for matches on license plates. If she finds any, she will cross-reference them through criminal history and countless other filters. It’s a needle in a haystack. In fact, it’s worse than a needle in a haystack, since there probably isn’t a needle to find—Citizen David presumably stayed off the highways to avoid this very issue.
But that’s what we do. We run down every lead.
Pullman comes around to my cubicle. “Social media hasn’t produced anything good,” he says. “Overwhelmingly positive. That’s the problem. Everybody likes this guy.”
That is the problem. Usually, with a terrorist act, the vast majority of social media reaction is negative, and we look primarily for those few responses that are positive or at least vaguely supportive. But Citizen David has been targeting businesses that people love to hate, like banks and fast-food companies that mistreat animals, and he’s done it without killing anyone. The ratio of positive to negative reaction on social media is exponentially higher in this case.
“Let me take a look at your algorithms,” I say.
“Ooh, I love it when you look at my algorithms,” he says.
I glance at Sexton, who forces a smile that seems to say, This is what I’ve had to deal with while you’ve been gone. But we both know Pullman is a top-notch analyst. He just needs to get laid occasionally.
“Still thinking Manhattan is the next target?” she asks me.
“Don’t you think so? I thought you agreed.”
“I do,” she says. “But just as a hunch. You told the team that’s where he was headed next.”
I shrug. “I give them my best guess. If I’m wrong, I look dumb.”
Her eyebrows rise. “You’ll look more than just dumb,” she says. “You’ll take the blame.”
I wave her off, but she’s right. If Citizen David strikes somewhere other than Manhattan, people won’t have to look very far for the person who made the wrong call.
34
ROBERTA, Dwight Ross’s secretary, lights up. “Books!” she says. She removes her glasses, comes around her desk, and wraps Books in a big hug.
“Good to see you, my lady.”
“Well, you are a sight for sore eyes. Coming back to us?”
Books shakes his head. “A special assignment. Temporary.”
She pulls back from him. “Well, they’re waiting for you in there,” she says. “You don’t want to be late.”
“They?” He thought he was meeting only with Dwight.
“They,” she says, curling her lips with displeasure.
He knocks on the door and walks in. Dwight Ross is at his desk. Sitting on his desk, a bit more casually than Books would expect, is a blond woman in a sharp gray suit with muted yellow pinstripes.
“Good morning,” Books says.
Dwight Ross gestures to the woman, who’s now climbing off his desk. “Harrison Bookman, this is Special Assistant Director Elizabeth Ashland.”
She crosses the room with her hand out. “Pleased to meet you,” she says. She has a strong handshake.
“Call me Books,” he says, though she didn’t call him anything. “And I should call you…”
She looks him over, blinks. “You can call me Special Assistant Director Ashland.”
“Lizzie’s running the leak investigation,” says Ross, standing up.
Ah, okay. You call her Lizzie. I address her formally. The hierarchy is now established. You’re pushing me down the chain, aren’t you, Dwight?
“So this is awkward,” Ashland says.
“How so?” asks Books.
“Well, with your being engaged to the target of our investigation.”
Books pops a quick grin, a reflexive response. It disappears quickly. “Am I supposed to say something to that?”
“If you’d like.”
He wouldn’t like.
“The obvious concern is your impartiality,” she says.
Books looks at Dwight, who seems content to let Ashland continue this attack.
“The director brought me in,” Books says, “presumably because I was close to Emmy, figuring I might have a better view of things. Do you outrank the director?”