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“I am blessed to know people who tell me things.”
“Give us names, Ms. Bexholt,” Sherlock said.
Nikki shook her head. “No.”
Savich picked it up. “I can also assume you knew Eleanor Corbitt lied to Justice Cummings, told him she worked in personnel services at Langley. We know she set him up. And you do as well, don’t you, Ms. Bexholt? Did you plan it?”
Savich rose, laid his palms on her desk, leaned over, and said, his voice deep and steady, “You have all the money, you’re the one who wanted Cummings kidnapped. Tell us why.”
She grabbed her landline and dialed three digits. “I want to speak to Mr. Phelps. What? He’s gone home? Very well,” and she forced herself not to slam down the phone. She cleared her throat. “Bart Phelps is one of Bexholt’s in-house counsels. I will have him call you on Monday. Now, Agents, if you will excuse me, I have an appointment to keep.”
Savich straightened, looked down at her, and said, his voice hard as nails, “When Mr. Phelps calls us, Ms. Bexholt, do have him tell us why you wanted Justice Cummings taken. And how Jasmine Palumbo and Eleanor Corbitt were involved. Is your father also involved? Your brother?”
Nikki roared to her feet, so angry, so afraid, she was shaking with it. “This is an outrage. I want you both out of my office now. Get out!”
Neither Savich nor Sherlock said anything more, simply turned and walked out the door. Savich was smiling when they rode the elevator down to the lobby. “That went perfectly. Ms. Bexholt is scared and furious and there’s not a doubt in my mind she’s up to her eyeballs in whatever this is.”
Sherlock said, “Did you see her tapping her fingers? I got the feeling it was a habit and she didn’t want us to see her doing it. Why, I wonder?” She shrugged. “She’s strong and confident. She’s also arrogant and a liar. I’d say right now she’s scared spitless because she lost it a couple of times. Now you’re hoping she’ll make another mistake. And yes, the Armani suit was stunning on her.”
He laughed, couldn’t help it, paused a moment, hugged her to him. “Can you think of a why?”
Sherlock was proud of herself, she hadn’t frozen when he’d hugged her. She smiled up at him. “Too many pieces to this puzzle, too many possible turns. It’s like a maze—we haven’t found the key to it yet.”
“More a labyrinth, I think, with Nikki Bexholt waiting at the center, a modern-day Minotaur.” He kissed the tip of her nose.
Sherlock said, “Did you notice that bust of Athena on the pedestal by her desk?”
He nodded. “The goddess of war and wisdom.”
“I wish I’d thought to ask her why Athena.”
They walked out into the warm late afternoon, Savich holding her hand. Sherlock stopped, breathed in deeply. “Smell the night jasmine.” She looked up at him. “I suppose you have someone in place to follow Ms. Bexholt when she leaves for the evening?”
“You bet. I’ll make a call right now, tell Lucy we’re leaving.”
When he slipped the cell back into his jacket pocket, he said, “All set. Let’s go home and get to know our guest better.”
“I’ll heat up your spaghetti sauce, whip up a salad.” She stopped cold. “How do I know it’s your sauce?”
He tapped a finger to her temple. “A sure sign you’re on the mend.” They got in the Porsche and passed through the kiosk, the guard giving a nod and a thumbs-up to Savich on the Porsche.
“There’s Lucy pulling up now. She begged me to take this surveillance since Coop is out of town fishing and she said she’s bored to tears, wants some work to chew on.”
Sherlock saw Lucy sitting at a workstation, heard her talking on the phone. Then she was grinning up at Sherlock, patting her stomach, and Sherlock was hugging her, congratulating her. The white door slammed. “But, Dillon, Lucy is four month pregnant, she can’t be on surveillance, I mean—” Sherlock couldn’t believe what she’d said and began shaking her head at herself. “What’s wrong with me? It doesn’t matter if she’s pregnant, she can do anything. Excuse me while I give myself a smack.”
Savich laughed. “Lucy said her only drawback is having to pee more than usual, but she assured me she’s got it figured out. Yeah, I was a bit concerned, too, but she gave me the don’t you dare say anything look. She’ll keep Ms. Bexholt well covered tonight. If Bexholt goes home, goes to bed, Lucy will leave for the night and Ollie will take over tomorrow morning.”
“Okay, that’s good. It was smart you didn’t tell Nikki Bexholt we have Justice Cummings. You left her not knowing what’s happened to him. I can see the stress of wondering about him, wondering what could happen, might lead her to make a mistake, or close up shop, cover up as best she can. Or run.”
Savich said, “Yes, any of the above. And Mr. Maitland’s agreed we’re not going to tell Farriger about Justice, either, not yet.”
