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“Could she outshoot you?”
“Sometimes. Look, that’s enough, Kirra.”
“No, wait. I want to understand. Like I said, you’re not ugly and you do look like you could take down a biker gang. Was that too macho for her?”
Griffin said slowly, eyes on her face, “You don’t think I’m ugly?”
“No, really, you’re fine in the looks department. Don’t be insecure just because you’re no Daniel Craig, well, when he was younger.” She cocked her head. “She really was jealous over you because of your looks? You did something, didn’t you?”
He shook his head, amused. She wasn’t messing with him. Anna, and most women, saw him as a chick magnet, something he’d had to put up with since he was thirteen and found love notes in his locker, had messages passed to him in class, answered giggling calls on his cell phone. His father had patted his shoulder, told him to get used to it. But Kirra was treating him like nothing special, just a regular guy. He’d take it. “No,” he said, smiling big, “I’m no Daniel Craig.”
She cocked her head to the side, gave him a tentative smile. “Okay, you get the soft pillow.”
They tossed the empty takeout cartons and plastic chopsticks, cleaned off the small table, and covered it again with a bright yellow tablecloth. Kirra said as they walked to the living room, “I want you to tell me what you think we should do about Melissa Kay Grissom.”
We. She’d included him. It was a start.
“You’ve looked at her police record. Let’s see what she’s got on social media. I’ll bet you Melissa Kay has a Facebook page.”
Kirra grabbed her iPad, typed in Melissa Kay’s name, looked at Griffin, and gave a fist pump. “Melissa Kay does have a Facebook page, and she’s on it a lot, nearly every day. Here, look, there are photos of her, alone and with friends, and with her brother and father.” He looked over her shoulder, and they scanned her posts together. “She posts about her clothes, her hairdresser, her makeup, her vacations. She comes across as perfectly normal. I guess her family doesn’t mind, so long as she keeps their business completely out of it. Look, Griffin, the post she wrote just yesterday—I’m going to Greenbrier but I won’t be alone. Jared is flying into Washington and he’ll meet me there. Three days of heaven!”
Kirra added, “Greenbrier is a fancy resort some two hours from here nestled in the Appalachians. I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard they’re usually booked up. Skiing in winter and swimming and hiking in summer. Great spa and food to die for. What do you think? Do you think I should follow her there, see if I can hear her speak? Maybe identify her?”
Griffin was a cop to the souls of his feet, a born cop, his mother said. He was also a cop who obeyed the rules. Well, he’d had to bend them some on occasion, but what Kirra was asking of him now, helping a vigilante, was off the charts. He saw Savich beating the crap out of him at the gym and assigning him to clean the Washington Field Office bathrooms for a month. He saw Pepper Jersik shaking her head at him, telling him he was a moron and a judge might just toss his butt in jail. He looked again at Kirra’s face and saw what he thought he’d have felt in her place—hope and determination, and out of his mouth came, “Why don’t we go together to Greenbrier? You’ll hear Melissa Kay’s voice and we’ll go from there. What do you think?”
She gaped at him, opened her mouth and closed it, continued to stare at him as if he’d suggested they walk naked together in Justice Plaza at noon. He wanted to smile, but didn’t. “Give it some thought,” he said and walked away. Griffin could feel her eyes on his back, but he didn’t turn. He walked over to her big lounger, eased back as his legs came up. He picked up the remote, handy in a side pocket, and turned on a Washington Wizards basketball game. Kirra curled up on the South Seas sofa and opened her iPad again. She didn’t look up at him. “If you really mean that, Griffin, I’ll make reservations.”
Griffin said, “I meant what I said.”
He heard her let out a breath. “Okay, thank you. It’s pricey. I don’t think the FBI is going to spring for it, not just for the chance I might recognize the voice of the woman who killed my parents fourteen years ago.” She looked up at him. “It’d never fly in court. Even a mediocre defense attorney would shred me—just a kid, terrified, in shock, trying to escape being murdered. Even if it turns out I’m sure it was Melissa, we’ll have to find more, but how is that possible? Melissa Kay’s going there to be with her friggin’ lover, not planning anyone’s murder. They’ll probably spend all their time in their room.” Her voice trailed off. She looked defeated.
Griffin said patiently, “One step at a time, Kirra. First we find out if you do recognize her voice, that’s what’s important right now.” He paused a moment. “We’ll figure out where to go from there. Trust me.”
She met his eyes. “It’s hard, Griffin. I’ve been on my own for so long, ever since I left Australia.”
“I understand. Take a deep breath. You’ve got a partner now.”
She gave him a blazing smile; she looked like the weight of the world had been magically lifted off her head.
At a time-out in the Washington Wizards game, Griffin turned to see she was still working on her iPad. “Kirra, we know what we’re going to do, so why ignore a Wizards game? The Celtics have a three-point lead.”
She didn’t look up. “I’m a Warriors fan, actually.”
“Makes no sense, they’re on the wrong coast for you.”
“You forget the West Coast is the closest to Australia, so I went with the Warriors. And I’ll admit I fell in love with Steph Curry and his three-pointers— Okay, I got us reservations. The Greenbrier had only one of their two honeymoon suites left. I booked it.” Kirra stretched. “Hey, I’ll bring you blankets and that soft pillow for the sofa.”
Griffin tapped his fingertips on the chair arm. “We’ll want to be really careful, disguise ourselves. So who do you want to look like?”
Kirra laughed. “I want to be Lady Gaga.”
“All right, that means a blond wig for you.”
“Okay, but it’s got to be long and curly. I want to look like a hit babe. A dark wig for you, maybe? A fake beard, maybe a mustache?”
“You can wear glasses, maybe change up your makeup. And we’ll have to act like newlyweds since we’ll be in a honeymoon suite, at least in front of hotel staff.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll put away your sofa bedding every morning.”
