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And the man who got out of it screamed Federal law enforcement all the way down to his slightly scuffed black wingtips. He buttoned his jacket, which enhanced the hump where his gun lay in its shoulder holster. He seemed so tightly wound that she thought she could see some wires sticking out of him.
He looked around, clearly unimpressed with Gibson’s humble domicile, and then the man headed to the front door. Gibson stepped back from the window.
Oh hell.
CHAPTER55
FBI SPECIAL AGENT CARY PINKER,”said the man after Gibson answered his knock. He took out his cred pack and held it in front of her for a couple of beats too long, at least to her mind.
Intimidation conflagration, she said to herself. She had experienced this as a cop and detective and it washed right off her back. But this guy was a Fed, and she was now a private citizen, so she clearly didn’t have the luxury of underestimating him.
“Please come in.”
She ushered Pinker into the front room and motioned to the couch, to the one area that wasn’t stained from her kids’ antics. Tommy and Darby were in the backyard with Silva, which was good. She didn’t think she wanted them to be around for any of what Pinker would be saying, even if they couldn’t understand it.
They sat down across from each other.
Pinker looked around. “I hear you’re a single mom?”
“That’s right. I work from home. The kids are in the backyard with their babysitter.”
“And you used to be a cop, first forensic tech, then uniform, then detective, all in New Jersey.”
“Yes, Jersey City.”
“And your father was a beat cop?”
“That’s right.”
“And now you’re currently employed by ProEye as an asset finder.”
“That’s pretty much my whole story.” She smiled disarmingly.
He appeared to ignore this gesture. “And you find yourself in the middle of this mess with Harry Langhorne and another former WITSEC murder in The Plains, Virginia?”
“That’s correct.”
“I’m surprised that the Virginia State Police are allowing you to work with them on the investigation, but maybe they do things differently down here.”
“It’s informal. Detective Sullivan knew I had some skills that might help, but it’s not like I’ve been given any special confidences. In fact, he told me he was going to meet with you, but that I was not allowed in the meeting. I’m surprised you came to see me. You haven’t even met with him yet, have you?”
“Not yet. But let me explain that.”
“All right,” Gibson said pleasantly.
“I’m here to find out what youhaven’ttold Detective Sullivan. What are the things you’ve done that have crossed the line? And I want to know what your motivation is to do all those things.” He looked around. “Could it be money?”
He settled his gaze back on her.
Gibson took a moment to process all of this. Her earlier daydreaming of riches, and then agreeing, under duress, to find Trask’s money for a 5 percent cut, came roaring back, increasing her sense of guilt.
“Are you accusing me of something?” she asked.
He just stared at her for a moment, like she had many a perp in an interrogation room. “I’m here to get to the truth, Ms. Gibson, nothing more, nothing less.”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.”
“You went out to that mansion and found Langhorne’s body. You claim that a person called you and conned you into doing so. Why you out of all the people in the universe, I don’t know. But for argument’s sake, let’s say that’s true. Why are you still involved? If you were brought into this under some sort of scam or subterfuge, why have you not just walked away from the whole thing? You have children. You have a job. So what the hell are you still doing messing around with this case? Do my inquiries seem unreasonable?”
