Anger finds its way to my chest as I stare outside the windows.
I am nowhere near finding out where Hedda is, and the Oligargh ran into a dead end. Reid is having me followed. And now Rossi.
I must say, I have underestimated Reid. She is much sharper than I originally thought. She is onto me, and I need to be very careful that all of it doesn’t blow up in my face.
And that’s the moment Rossi decides to get sidetracked with his toyboy.
What I need is action. I need something to happen, something that brings me back in power.
Hedda. I need to find Hedda and the hat.
The hat.
A stitch in my chest.
Because I didn’t find the hat, but let a woman kiss me.
My gaze wanders automatically up into the sky.
Hedda, focus on finding Hedda,I tell myself.
I turn back to the project I have been keeping myself busy with.
I emptied a wall and wrote down everything I knew Hedda had in her possession. I also hung every article and mugshot I could get, listed her associates, connections, and everything else I know connected to her into one big picture that shows where she has been and what she has done.
I also dived into the underworld, searching for a broker I once did a deal with, and bribed him to let me know when the hat surfaces.
Now, I stare at my work for the fifth day in a row, and I am none the wiser in any way.
It’s when I decide there is only one way to find Hedda.
I have to use the FBI.
Together, we can get to her.
I sigh as I grab the phone from my pocket and dial Shaw’s number.
“Why don’t you come upstairs?” I ask her.
“Uhm,” she says.
“Don’t think I know you’re watching me?”
“No,” she says.
“Yeah, be better. A blind person can see you lingering outside. Grab a sandwich from Hormuz around the corner, avocado for me, tell him it’s for Alaire, he’ll know. I’ll open when you’re back,” I say as I stare at my artwork, and add, “I want to show you something,” because she seems to be slightly taken aback.
“Anything else?” she asks. “A dragon wing on a silver platter, maybe?”
“Avocado sandwich is fine; make sure to get one yourself, too. I am done dealing with the hangry version of you.”
“You know,” she says dismissively, “Whatever it is, you can show me tomorrow or whenever else you decide to move your entitled ass back into the office, and I am willing to see your arrogant face again.”
“Shaw,” I say sternly. “You wanna see this.”
“No, I don’t. What I want is to sit here in quiet and wait for you to mess up your deal,” she shoots at me.
“How old are you? Four? Seriously, get your ass up here with the sandwiches, or I won’t show you anything.”
