Page 45 of Desperate Creed

Maggie didn’t ask how she was sure she hadn’t been followed. She knew Hannah was already worried sick about her friend. Yesterday, when she told Hannah what she’d learned about Tyler Gates and Deacon Kaye, Hannah had gone quiet on the other end of the line for so long Maggie finally had to prompt a reply, “Hannah, are you okay?”

“Those poor young men. They definitely stumbled onto something, didn’t they?”

After a couple of back and forth phone calls, Maggie had Frankie’s email address and password to give to Alonzo. And Hannah had arranged for her to meet Frankie just outside of Montgomery, Alabama. It’d cut two or three hours of drive time for Maggie. She knew Hannah was being practical, but she couldn’t help being disappointed. If she’d driven all the way to the Florida Panhandle to K9 CrimeScents she would have been able to see Ryder.

Hannah obviously sensed this, because without any encouragement she told Maggie that Ryder and Jason were working a site devastated by a tornado.

“It’s just south of Montgomery,” Hannah told her. “I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

She wondered if that were true or if it was Hannah simply wishing it to be true. Maggie knew she had pushed Creed away. The closer they got, the harder she pushed. And yet, just the idea of seeing him made her palms sweat and her pulse race. She was thinking about all that while Hannah was trying to give her directions to where she was to meet Frankie Russo.

“It’s a meat-and-three called Southern Blessings. Big parking lot right across from a truck stop. On the south side of Montgomery. Just off the interstate. You are going to love the biscuits,” Hannah told her as though this were a simple lunch date.

Maggie had jotted down all the directions and instructions before it occurred to her to ask, “I know it’s a diner or restaurant, but what’s a meat-and-three?”

“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry. You choose your meat and three sides. It’s a little slice of heaven. And speaking of slices, make sure you try the butterscotch or pecan pie.”

It made Maggie smile even this morning as she remembered the conversation from last night. Hannah, herself, was a fantastic cook who sincerely hoped and believed she could soothe the soul and solve most problems with her food.

Maggie’s mouth watered thinking about Hannah’s smothered fried chicken and black-eyed peas. She’d have to settle for airport food or road trip food. Before she headed out to pick up her rental car, she found a corner table in one of the terminal’s small cafés. She ordered a bagel, cream cheese, fresh berries and a Diet Pepsi. She needed to check her messages. She had left Agent Alonzo with a long wish list, and she was anxious to see his progress.

One of the many televisions mounted all over the airport terminal hung ten feet in front of her. She thought about moving to another table but liked this corner. She could see the entrance and her back was to the wall. All were important ingredients for a seasoned FBI agent. After ten years she figured she was allowed to call it seasoned instead of jaded or paranoid.

Then her eyes caught the closed caption crawling across the bottom of the television screen. It read: MAJOR FOOD COMPANY CEO AND SENATORS SIGN GLOBAL INITIATIVE TO FEED THE WORLD’S HUNGRY.

She turned her phone from airplane mode to ON and immediately noticed she had a text message from Alonzo. It was short and simple:

CALL ME AS SOON AS YOU LAND.

Maggie dug out her wireless earbuds as the waitress brought her plate.

“Those berries look wonderful,” she told the woman.

“We aim to please. But I’m afraid you’ll need to settle for Diet Coca Cola instead of Pepsi. You’re in Atlanta, you know.”

“That’s fine. Thanks.”

And as she tapped Alonzo’s phone number, she also dug a bottle of water out of her travel bag. Her eyes darted back to the television screen. The news conference with the food company CEO and the senators was still in progress. Now the closed caption identified that company as Carson Foods. Of course it was. Before she looked away she saw a face she recognized standing alongside the senators back behind the CEO. She shouldn’t have been surprised to see her boss, Assistant Director Raymond Kunze.

“Hey, Maggie.” Alonzo answered.

“I realized I’m asking you to do this on a Saturday.”

“And this is probably why neither of us are in relationships.”

She knew he meant it as a joke. So why did it sting a little?

“Have you seen the news? Carson Foods’ CEO is on TV right now.”

“Their wonderful global initiative,” he said. “Sounds like they’re so generous, right? They actually stand to make billions.”

“A.D. Director Kunze is there.”

“For sure. His homeboy, Senator John Quincy is sponsoring the initiative.”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble with Kunze. I’m doing this as a favor to a friend, but you—”

“Maggie, don’t worry about it. I can already tell you something doesn’t look right about this whole thing. Listen,” he paused and she heard him moving around, “I worked some magic last night. Don’t ask any questions as to how or what, okay?”