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She didn’t say anything.
“Do you remember now?”
“No.”
“You were in the office at eleven that night and your computer was used to access an LAPD report during the time you were here.”
“I am unaware.”
Matt said, “Coming in late at night you may have been alerted to something suspicious, some activity at LAPD, and you wanted to see what it was.”
“That’s conjecture.”
“Who did you tell about the raid?” Matt asked.
“I didn’t access the report.”
Brian said, “I will remind you, Agent Chavez, that as a sworn FBI agent you are required to answer all questions of a superior truthfully and without obfuscation.”
“I answered your question. May I leave?”
“No,” Brian said. “Did you contact any member of the press regarding the identities of Colton Fox or Kara Quinn and their position within LAPD?”
Rebecca glared at Matt, then said through clenched teeth, “No.”
Matt looked at his phone. Michael had texted him to call ASAP. Matt showed the message to Brian, then left the room and called Michael.
“There’s a press conference right now on the steps of city hall,” Michael said immediately. “The mayor, Lydia Zarian, Dorothy Duncan and Jonathan Avila. There’s a lot of media, it might be live, but it’s nearly over. I’ll get a recording, but Kara is there now. The gist? It has come to the attention of the mayor that there may be improprieties in some of the grants allocated to help alleviate the homeless crisis, and a joint task force between the city and county has agreed to hire a law firm to conduct an audit, led by Dorothy Duncan.”
“Well, shit,” Matt said. If what he had learned this morning was true, at least three of those people were involved in the grant process itself—and may have profited. What were they up to?
“When a reporter asked what specific improprieties were discovered,” Michael said, “Duncan herself answered that the matter was under investigation by her office and a full report would be made available when complete. The timeline for that report is expedited and will be available in ninety days.”
“Ninety days is after the election,” Matt said. “Both the mayor and Zarian are up for reelection.”
“Correct,” Michael said. “She took no more questions because of attorney-client privilege, and allowed no one else to answer questions. The mayor, then Zarian, ran through how much they care about people and taxpayers and the whole nine yards, but it reads phony to me.”
“Someone tipped them off.”
“Violet is with me at LAPD headquarters.” Matt had asked Michael to bring Violet in this morning to give her statement, but not to let her out of his sight. Not until they knew she was safe. “Violet blames herself. She leaked information to a podcast and she thinks that jump-started this ‘Cover Your Ass’ audit by Zarian and the others.”
“I want the podcast recording and the tape of the press conference. We’ll compare, but tell her this isn’t on her. That woman has been through hell this week. I don’t want her taking any of the blame from anyone, including herself.”
“I already told her.”
An armed guard and an FBI agent approached and stood outside Brian’s door.
“I have to go, but stick to her like glue.”
“Roger that,” Michael said.
Matt ended the call and watched as Rebecca and Brian left his office. Brian said to the guard and agent who had just arrived, “Please process Agent Chavez’s credentials, secure her weapon, and escort her and only her personal items from the building.” He handed the agent a cell phone. “Log the phone into evidence as well as her computer, seal her office and no one goes in without my permission.”
“Understood,” the agent said.
Rebecca looked pale and terrified. “You’re making a mistake, Brian.” Her voice quivered and Matt noted her knuckles were white as they clung to her purse.
“I really hope I am, Rebecca. Because if you lied to me just now? You will be prosecuted.”
