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“Can you help us before you leave, Fiona?” Claire held out the envelope of cash she’d been ready to give Madam Rosalee. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
“I’ll take it, but it’s just icing on the cake. Do you know that SOB is taking that rich widow to the White House on Christmas Day? If he thinks he’s going to squire her around in public during the day and end up in my bed at night, he’s dreaming.”
Claire suppressed a shiver of revulsion at the thought of Spencer Correll in bed with anyone. “He’s a pig, Fiona. Do you have anything you can give us to use against him?”
“I told you, someone keeps sending him emails with videos and pictures. It freaks him out. I don’t know if it’s blackmail or what.”
Mike asked, “Has he gotten any lately?”
“He gets something almost every day.”
Claire clasped her hands in front of her. “Can you get them out, Fiona?”
Fiona tilted her red head. “Why don’t you come and get it yourself? It’s the day before Christmas Eve. There’s hardly anyone in the office. Spencer is busy with God knows what. He told me not to expect him in the office until after the break.”
Mike shook his head. “Claire, he might be monitoring the office. He might have eyes and ears there. It’s too risky.”
“I don’t like what I’m hearing.” Fiona shoved the envelope of money into her purse. “Why would Spencer be watching for you, Claire? And what’s he going to do if you show up?”
“If I give you a thumb drive, Fiona, can you copy Spencer’s emails to it?”
“I can do that.” Fiona skimmed her nails along the velvet cloth covering Madam Rosalee’s tarot reading table. “But this is my last day in the office until after New Year’s. How am I going to get it back to you?”
“Do you still get off at five?”
“Yeah.”
“Mike?” Claire turned toward him.
He scratched his beard. “How do you get to work, a car or public transportation?”
“I take a bus. The stop is a block down from the office.”
“We’ll be waiting on the street in front of the office when you get off—black Mercedes sedan. Hand the drive to Claire through the window and have a happy holiday.”
Claire pressed the thumb drive into Fiona’s hand, and she dropped it into her purse.
“What if there’s nothing in the emails?” Fiona clutched her bag to her chest. “Do I still get to keep the money?”
“Absolutely. I appreciate this so much. You have no idea.” She gave Fiona a one-armed hug.
As Fiona opened the front door and set off the bells, Rosalee swept aside the beaded curtain and pointed at her. “Be careful. The aura of danger is strong.”
* * *
WHEN THEY LEFT Madam Rosalee’s, Mike headed a few miles outside the city center where he drove through a fast-food place.
They parked in the lot and Mike wolfed down a couple of burgers while Claire sipped on soda.
Between bites, he said, “I am so done with this. If I go through one fast-food place when I retire, that’ll be one too many.”
Claire chewed on the end of her straw. “I hope Spencer still has some of those incriminating photos in his email. Who do you think is blackmailing him?”
“It could be anyone. It could be Caliban himself. Once you start playing games like Correll, you’re in bed with some very dangerous people.”
His phone buzzed and Claire jumped. She’d called her son this morning and had given Ethan’s grandparents this number to call in case of an emergency.
Cupping the phone in his hand, he glanced at the display and shook his head at Claire. “It’s Jack.”
He pushed the button to answer. “I’m still alive, in case you’re wondering, oh, and you’re on speaker. Claire’s in the car.”
“Good. You both need to hear this.”
Claire bolted upright in her seat. “The videos?”
“We’ve identified the Oxford Don, Claire. Donald Yousef is the one who executed your husband and he’s the one in the video with Senator Correll.”
A sob broke from Claire’s throat and she covered her face with her hands.
