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“I know a lot of stuff.”
“I’m going to go get my gun.”
Holly raised her hands in surrender. “Well, let’s see: The rumor about Harry’s reassignment is true, but as I understand it, they haven’t yet found a place awful enough to transfer him to.”
“Who have you been talking to?”
“A gentleman named William Barron, who, I believe, is a deputy director of the FBI.”
“Barron? How the hell do you know him?”
“I don’t know him, exactly; he came to see me after we shut down Blood Orchid.”
“Why?”
“He had a lot of questions about how the whole thing came off. He wanted to know everything, right from the beginning.”
“And what did you tell him?”
Holly shrugged. “Everything.”
“Holly, are you telling me that you blew Harry Crisp out of the water?”
“Nope, all I did was to tell that nice Mr. Barron everything I knew. I didn’t cast any aspersions; he drew his own conclusions.”
“When does Harry go?”
“I believe he’s already gone.”
“And what was that you said about my work not being my work?”
“Come Monday, you’re going to have a new job,” she said.
Grant sat up straighter. “How do you know this?”
“Because I have a little handwritten note from Mr. Barron in my bag; it was delivered this morning.”
Grant grabbed at her bag, but she snatched it away and put it where he couldn’t reach it.
“Holly, you’re killing me.”
“Well, I certainly don’t want to kill you. Not now, anyway; maybe later.”
“Do you know what my new assignment is?”
“Yes. That was the purpose of Mr. Barron’s little note. He thought you might like to hear it from me, while the Bureau is doing whatever they have to do to produce an official letter.”
“What? Where?”
“Agent in charge. Miami office.”
He grabbed her and pulled her up to his face. “This is not some sadistic joke on your part?”
Holly reached in her bag and produced the note. Grant read it and handed it back, then he waved at a waiter. “Two more rum and tonics,” he said.
“So, how do you feel?”
Grant lay back on the chaise. “Lighter than air,” he said. “There’s only one problem.”
