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“Easy for you to say,” I told him. “There’s a reason I don’t wear expensive clothes on a day-to-day basis. Even my funeral suits are durable and washable. This outfit seems like neither of those things.”
Jack laughed. “You’re a grown woman. You’re going to be fine. Now get dressed and let’s roll.”
Jack went down to make coffee and I touched the sleeve of the jacket. Definitely not washable. But I put on the clothes anyway, surprised how comfortable they were. Apparently silk really did breathe.
After I got dressed, I realized I looked too nice to not do something more with my face than just put on moisturizer, so spent a few minutes on my eyes, surprised how much they popped with a little shadow and mascara, and then I put on lipstick I was sure to chew off within a couple of hours. Satisfied with the outcome, I headed downstairs.
I was surprised to see Doug in the kitchen. He wasn’t an early riser by any means.
“Whoa,” he said, looking at me. “Are y’all in some sexiest couple alive contest?”
“Yes,” Jack said deadpan.
“What are you doing up so early?” I asked, taking my to-go cup from Jack. I took a moment to inhale the aroma before testing to see how hot it was. No one made coffee like Jack.
“Haven’t been to bed yet,” Doug said. “It’s taken all night to get those military records. I know Uncle Ben could’ve done it faster, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t lead anyone back here. We’re good though. Mackenzie is almost through and then we’ll be able to see if anyone’s assignments overlapped and specialized skill sets. We’ll also be able to match with Kirby’s and Sowers’ international travel. State department has crap security, so I was able to get in there easily and get all his information.”
“Be careful,” Jack said.
“I’m always careful,” Doug said, opening the refrigerator. Nothing had magically appeared since the night before, so he closed it and went to the pantry to get the bread. He put a couple of slices in the toaster and then got out the butter and grape jelly.
“You know what’s interesting though,” Doug said after a few minutes. “The FBI has a file on David Sowers. They have one on Kirby too.”
Jack put down his coffee cup with an audiblethunkand his gaze narrowed on Doug.
“No,” Jack said. “We do not need the FBI to come down on us right now. You don’t think they’re looking for any breaches or abnormalities in security now that Carver is out? Stay out of the FBI database. I don’t care how important the information is. You’re not going to find anything to help your uncle by doing it that way.”
Doug’s expression went sullen and he said, “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. Uncle Ben always says that information is the most important commodity we as citizens have.”
“Yes, and people die with information that never sees the light of day all the time,” Jack said. “Your Uncle Ben is the most brilliant man I’ve ever known. The FBI is scared to death of him. Because they know that in the end he’ll be able to outsmart and outgun them. And a lot of people are going to go down for it. Make no mistake, anyone looking for your Uncle Ben right now doesn’t care about containing him. They want to kill him. Whatever he’s got is that valuable. Let him do what he does best. If he needs help he’ll ask for it. Promise me that.”
“Yeah, fine,” Doug said, putting more bread in the toaster. The loaf would be gone before we got back home.
“If you and Mackenzie find out anything interesting give me a call,” Jack said. “Call, don’t text.”
“Got it,” Doug said. And then he grinned. “A hundred bucks Jaye comes home dirty and that suit is ruined for life.”
“Have a little faith,” Jack said and grabbed his keys.
I slung my medical bag over my shoulder and followed Jack out. And then I turned to Doug. “Not even I would take that bet.”
* * *
We were running a little behind by the time we got on the highway and were headed toward King George. Our FBI friends were behind us, not even bothering to keep a couple of car lengths between us anymore.
“Guess they want more tacos,” I said. “Where are we going?”
“The apartments off of Seabury,” Jack said.
I grimaced. “Bad part of town. If Pickering was asking Darnell for money and his car, it seems pretty obvious he was planning to skip down. Steven would probably do the same.”
“Only if he’s guilty,” Jack said, turning onto Seabury.
The trees and grass were overgrown around trailers in different states of disrepair. There were tires and old cars missing parts parked in yards, along with various appliances that had seen better days. At the end of the block was a three-story apartment building.
We passed a patrol unit as we pulled into the parking lot and Jack said, “I’ve always got units patrolling out here. We get a high volume of calls from this area and the police presence helps keep things at a minimum.”
“Makes sense,” I said, looking down at my suit and shoes and then glancing at the potholed parking lot.
