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“A hit by whom?”
“That’s not clear.”
Ryan grunted in frustration. “Great.”
“I hear you, man. You’ve got to sit down someplace and go back through any notes you have. See if something tickles your memory,” Omar said.
“You don’t take files when you leave the DOJ,” Ryan explained. “I don’t have any notes to consult.”
Marielle spoke quietly to Omar, who said, “that’s not a bad idea.”
“What did she say? We can’t hear her on our end.”
“She said she’d do a search of some death indexes, obituaries, that sort of thing to see what she can find out about this attorney who died.”
“I doubt there’s a connection,” Ryan told them. “Hundreds of lawyers work for the Department of Justice. Thousands, if you count the field offices.”
“Natsuo Ito,” Omar said without preamble. “That’s the guy who took a header down the stairs. Ever hear of him?”
Ryan felt the phone falling out of his hand and bobbled it so it didn’t hit the desk. He said nothing.
Leilah pried the phone from his frozen hands. “Judging by Ryan’s stricken expression, I’m guessing the answer is yes.”
Ryan pressed his palms against the desk and forced out a long breath.
“We’ve gotta go. We’ll call you back,” Leilah said.
“Remember that this isn’t your area of expertise. Proceed with caution,” Jake warned.
Of all the things that Jake could have said to Leilah, the warning was one of the better choices. Even through the fog of his shock, Ryan could tell the caution had landed appropriately.
“We’ll be careful, Jake. Tell Chelsea I said hi.”
“If she’s speaking to him at this point,” Olivia piped up.
“Liv, let’s stay out of it,” Trent suggested.
“We’re going to go. You guys bicker amongst yourselves,” Leilah said.
“Wait,” Omar said.
“Waiting,” his sister answered.
“Ryan?”
“Yeah?” he croaked.
“You’ve got this,” Omar said simply. “I know you do.”
Leilah ended the call and stared at Ryan. “Are you okay?”
“Mind if I have a sip of your water?”
“It’s all yours.” She pushed it toward him.
He took a long drink. “I’m okay. Hearing that name was a shock.”
“Why?”
