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“That’s right—a single-car accident, he didn’t injure anyone and the damage was minimal, even though it was a hit-and-run.” She clinked her cup back into the saucer. “I thought they might at least want to recover the stolen car, but I guess it’s not a high priority right now. I also suggested that the guy might be a terrorist just to light a fire under them, but since the sidewalk was mostly empty—except for me—the police didn’t buy that theory.”
“And the FBI? Did the agents believe it might be someone trying to stop your meeting with them?”
She wrinkled her nose. “They didn’t discount that idea, but I guess they would’ve been more convinced if I’d wound up dead.”
“Too bad you had to disappoint them.” He drained the small teacup, which looked like a thimble in his hand. “You told them about Marten and Andrew?”
“I did, but there’s still no proof Marten was ever on that ferry, and they’re not interested in his black hat. There’s not even any proof that someone went overboard.”
“And you don’t have that video with Andrew to show them.”
She smacked the edge of the table with her fingertips. “I should’ve sent it to them as soon as I received it. I should’ve sent it to you.”
“You had no idea someone would wipe it clean from your computer, but I should’ve thought of that and had you send it to me.”
“I had no idea that was even a thing.” She smiled at the waiter as he rolled a cart up to their table with a host of covered dishes.
Joe’s eyes widened. “Is there an army you plan to feed when we’re done?”
“I thought you might be hungry after all the excitement today.” She rubbed her hands together as the Szechuan spices tickled her nose. “I know I am.”
“I took you for one of those women who eat a stalk of celery and one cracker and call it a day.”
“Ah, the narcissistic socialite type you ran into on Beacon Hill.” She dug into the kung pao chicken and ladled it over her steamed rice. “Should I be offended?”
“I know damn well you’re not a narcissistic socialite. No socialite I know would put herself in danger to help others halfway around the world.”
“Know many socialites other than the ones your mom worked for?”
“Um, not really.” He sucked some sauce off the edge of his thumb. “But now you’re the gold standard of all socialites.”
Heat rose to her cheeks and she hadn’t even sampled the spicy entrées yet. “Anyway, I’m tall and naturally skinny, and I do like running up and down these hills in the city.”
Joe cleared his throat and dipped his chin to his chest, as if he’d just become aware that their banter had veered toward the personal and she’d given him too much information.
“So, the agents didn’t believe you.” Joe scrutinized his forkful of food before putting it in his mouth.
“I wouldn’t say that, but without any proof that someone is offing the aid workers who were duped into bombing the refugee camp, there’s not much they can do. You know how it goes.”
“Nobody brought up my name, did they?”
“You don’t trust me?” She pinched a piece of chicken between her chopsticks.
“I trust you. I’m just curious as to whether or not I’m on their radar. I told you that two of my Delta Force team members have already delved into the mystery behind Major Denver’s actions. I’m wondering if the FBI or CIA has started connecting the dots yet.”
“There are dots to connect? Is this a planned and concerted investigation?”
“Planned and concerted?” Joe shook his head. “Try haphazard and blundering, but we’re all committed to doing our part to look into what we know is a setup. Denver would do no less for one of us.”
“Nobody mentioned your name or Denver’s. I told them I thought someone was trying to keep the four of us quiet, starting with Marten and continuing with Andrew and even taking a chance on me right before the meeting.”
“Speaking of the four of you, have you heard back from the nurse yet?”
