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“Right. Pritchard.”
Aaron got in his car and pressed his hand over his eyes. In some ways, this case was straightforward, but he had alarm bells ringing in his gut that suggested otherwise. But it wasn’t just the warning. He was foggy too. Confused. If that undercover job had compromised his ability to do his job, then he was putting Sydney at greater risk.
God, I know we haven’t been speaking much, but if you care about Sydney at all, you’re going to have to open my eyes here. I feel like there’s something I’m not seeing, but there’s no way to clear the fog.
The same empty space followed his request. He slammed his hand onto the steering wheel.
“Can’t you just give me something? I’ll take anything.” A vague image appeared in his mind of God, waiting. The thought fueled his frustration. “Great. You want something from me and I have no idea what it is you expect me to give.”
He started the car and sped out of the parking lot.
Chapter13
Aaron headedfor the newspaper as soon as he knew it would be open. He parked on the street right out front, taking note of the large window to the side of the front door withGazettecurved across it.
He opened the door to a ding and looked around the cramped room with low ceilings. A woman with short frizzy hair and high cheekbones sat at a nearby desk. She looked him up and down when he walked in, then said with a saucy grin, “Can I help you?”
He ignored the suggestive look she gave him. “I hope so. I’m looking for Gretta Lakeland.”
“Lucky girl. Can I tell her who’s looking for her?”
“My name is Special Agent Aaron Pritchard with the FBI.”
“FBI, huh?” She nodded, then stood and walked over to him, crossing her arms. “What business do you have with Gretta?”
His lips flattened. “You’re Ms. Lakeland, I take it?”
“Ooh. You FBI boys sure are clever. So what can I do for you today, Special Agent Aaron Pritchard? Or can I just call you Aaron?”
“You can call me Agent Pritchard. I’m here about an article that you wrote on cancer research being conducted by Professor Sydney Davis.”
She bit her bottom lip to hold on to the smile that tried to sweep up her face. “I knew it. I knew I had something.”
“I’m sorry?”
“My editor gave me a hard time because he said the article was below our standards, but I knew I’d hit on a truth. When Professor Davis called, I was confident, but the FBI turning up? This is bigger than I thought.”
“Oh, you mean the super soldiers?” He made sure his disdain was clearly visible on his face.
“You can try all you want to convince me otherwise, but why else would they send an FBI agent? Cancer is the cover, right? Do you mind if I put you on record?” She hurried back to her desk and grabbed her phone.
“No. You can’t print anything I say.”
“Fine, but you can’t keep me from printing a follow-up. Do you have a card I can give to my editor when he gets back? He’ll never believe me. Or if you don’t mind hanging around, you can speak directly to him. He’s out stuffing his face with a croissant most likely.”
“Professor Davis’s research is not connected to the government in any way and has nothing to do with super soldiers.”
“Mm-hm.”
“I’m serious.”
“Of course you are. And I’ll be sure to tell your supervisor you answered that way if he checks up. But off the record, how close was I?”
Aaron looked at the floor, taking a second to hold on to his composure. He knew she was baiting him. That sort of tactic didn’t usually work on him but this job had brought a frantic anxiety to the surface.
“Listen, Ms. Lakeland, I’m not here to argue conspiracies. This is official FBI business that has more to do with the safety of Professor Davis than her research. The information you published put Davis’s life in danger and I need to know who your source is.”
“Oh my, well, since you put it that way. Sure. I have no problem giving you my source as soon as you supply me with a court order.”
