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“So you’re ruling Trask out, just like that?”
“I think Trask was busywork for me for some reason,” said Gibson.
“Meaning I gave you an assignment that I knew was pointless?”
“I don’t know—did you?”
She’s gaining confidence, which is good and bad.
Clarisse said, “I don’t really see thepointof that, do you? How did you leave it with Sam Trask?”
“He gave me a secure email to communicate with him. He said he wouldn’t be surprised if his son had paid off people at The Feathers to keep watch over him.”
“What does Sam hope to achieve?”
“He’s still working, as you alluded to. I don’t mean for a company. I mean, he’s working the case against his son by himself. He showed me some of the research and leads he’d run down, all from his little retirement room. He even hired a cab to drive him by his son’s fortress in Virginia Beach. He wanted to see it for himself. As added incentive to nail this guy.”
“Did he ask you to help him?”
“Let’s just say we talked about mutually beneficial action we could take.”
“Did you tell him about me?”
“No. But I did tell him about the situation. He remembered Harry. Has no idea what happened to him or his family after WITSEC. He was intrigued about a possible connection between Harry and his son. He’s a formidable guy, even with an oxygen tank. We agreed to keep each other informed.”
“You took a big risk going to see him. His son probably knows all about you by now.”
“You basically told me I had to go see him.”
“Do you really do everything you’re told, Mickey?” she said condescendingly.
Shit, why did you say that?
All Clarisse heard now was…nothing.
Do not lose your control. You own this. Now really own it by doing what any decent human being would do. So pretend you are a decent person for once in your life.
“I’m sorry, Mickey. This is on me. I had a preconceived notion that Trask was involved. The other guys on that list, you’re right, they were white noise. Why I did that, I don’t know. Sometimes I’m too clever for my own good. Now, Trask was the only player who could do all the dances with Harryandalso have a motive to take him out. But I agree with you—if the writing on the wall was done by two people, it does not make sense that Trask was involved. And the poison instead of the bullets? Same thing. Okay? So again, I’m sorry if I was pulling your chain a bit. I really do want to get through this intact, and want the same for you.”
You’re rambling, and rambling is always weak, so shut up.
She caught herself breathing fast. Clarisse put herself on mute as she waited for Gibson to answer.
Come on, come on, come on…Just say something so I can spin it.
Only Mickey Gibson didn’t answer. She ended the call.
CHAPTER37
GIBSON POCKETED HER PHONE ANDwalked out of her home office. She headed to her kids’ room, where she opened the door and peered in.
Dead asleep. Both of them.
No, don’t use that phrase, ever. Not with them.
She used her phone to take a picture of the pair that she would no doubt look at when she was an elderly woman and wanted to relive the good old days.
Gibson went downstairs and made herself a cup of tea. She drank it while staring out the picture window at her scraggly front yard. She’d planned to redo the flower beds and fill up some pots with colorful plants for the porch.
