Nicholas said, “Let us know how the knock goes on Porter Wallace. Just so you know, I have Adam working on a few more things.”
“We’ll keep running the trackers, see if we can find where they may be broadcasting to. Otherwise, it’s the usual craziness associated with crime scenes. I notice you’re not here to do any of the paperwork.”
Mike laughed as she looked at Nicholas and gave him the first real smile since, well, best not to revisit that. “He does manage to escape the paperwork, doesn’t he?”
• • •
When Savich was showing her the guest bedroom, Mike said, “Dillon, do you think they’ll cancel the Yorktown speech? I mean, it would be stupid to carry on as if nothing has happened.”
He shrugged. “I’ve long given up trying to determine what a politician will do in any situation. It’s the president’s decision. We’ll find out in the morning.”
Nicholas said, “Maybe everything will be handled before it’s crunch time. The place has to be crawling with advance people, and now even more Secret Service. How in the world would Spenser get in to plant one of his bombs?”
Mike said, “Maybe the bomb or bombs were planted before the Secret Service got there. I give up. My brain is fried. I’m going to sleep.” She laid her hand on Savich’s arm. “Thank you for letting us stay.”
She was laying her go-bag on the bed when Sherlock called out, “Wait, guys, you’d better see this.”
On the small television in the kitchen was a still shot of George Washington University Hospital.
“Your informant’s on the local eleven o’clock news.”
They all watched as the reporter fed the information to the anchor, who seemed pleased as punch to announce that a government agent, believed dead in a Brooklyn fire, was very much alive and being treated for gunshot wounds.
Mike looked Nicholas straight in the face. “At least they didn’t use her name. But you know Spenser will come after her if he hears this. Who in the world leaked the story? I mean, if we were setting it all up and I were taking her place, that would be different—”
“Well, no matter,” Nicholas said, “since you’re not.”
Savich was already dialing his cell. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
Nicholas’s phone rang. “Savich, hold on a minute. It’s Carl Grace.”
He put it on speaker. “Agent Grace?”
Grace was shouting, nearly incoherent with rage. “What are you people playing at, exposing my niece like this?”
Savich said, “We don’t know anything about it, Carl. We haven’t talked to anyone. We told you we wouldn’t.”
But Carl was too furious to listen. “The FBI leaks like a sieve, always has, and you wonder why we don’t take you into our confidence? And you’re trying to pretend you had nothing to do with this? Don’t bother coming back to the hospital, I will see you banned from the grounds.” He hung up.
“I think he’s a bit upset,” Nicholas said.
Savich said, “Hold on,” and made a call. He was frowning when he punched off. “Mr. Maitland has no idea where this came from. He imagines the CIA will hav
e extra agents watching Vanessa tonight. Or moving her, that would be better.”
Mike straightened her shoulders and said to Nicholas, “You know if Spenser sees that broadcast, he’ll come for her immediately. It’s not too late—I can take her place.”
“No, you will not.” Nicholas turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen.
63
QUEEN TO B8
Off I-95, near Lorton, Virginia
The motel room smelled like wet dog and burned coffee, and the tatty bedspread was a nasty orange. But Matthew knew it wouldn’t be smart to stop at a better place. He and Andy would make do. If only Andy would shut his mouth.
At least the grid attack had worked well, so well that when the lights came on ten minutes before, both he and Andy were startled.