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She blinked rapidly, surprised. “Yes.”
“Will is a friend of mine,” Kara said. “I need to talk to him, but he’s not answering his phone.”
“When I see him, I’ll tell him.”
“Why are you so nervous?” Michael said.
Michael sometimes sounded too authoritarian, too much like a tough cop. He was a rock always, but he was also very law and order. Sometimes, situations—especially talking with people naturally nervous around authorities—required a little more finesse.
“I’m not,” Gina said, clutching her oversize purse.
“Can we sit down and talk a minute?” Kara asked.
Gina shook her head. “You can call Will, or I can give him a message, but we have to go.”
“Why was the detective here?”
“We couldn’t help him, he wasn’t happy about it.”
“Why are you scared of him?”
The two exchanged glances.
“We haven’t done anything,” Gina said firmly.
“I didn’t say you had,” Kara said. “But from where I’m standing, you both look nervous. We’re not here to jam you up for anything. I need to talk to Will—it’s very important.”
“I don’t know where he is.” Gina’s chin tilted up, defiant. “I don’t know why he won’t answer your call, except that maybe he doesn’t want to talk to you. And if he doesn’t want to talk to you, then I don’t, either.”
She folded her arms across her chest.
Kara only had FBI cards labeling her as a “special consultant,” so she asked for a piece of paper and pen. Gina walked back to the office and brought out a notepad and pencil.
She scrawled out a message to Will and left her number. She hoped it conveyed the urgency without giving away too many details.
“If he comes in or calls, give him this message,” she said to Gina. “Like I said, it’s very important.”
“I promise to give him the message.”
Kara left, and Michael followed her.
“They’re addicts,” Michael said as they got into the car. He clearly disapproved.
“Maybe. They’re not using now.”
“How can you tell? The woman was nervous, the man was jumpy and scratching his arms.”
“I’ve been around enough addicts to know they’re mostly clean. My guess? They’re transitioning.”
“Meaning?”
“They were homeless, now have some sort of semipermanent housing, maybe a group home. Colton always said that Will was a miracle worker, really good at getting people off the streets. He must trust Gina to hire her. I suspect in his line of work, he’s a good judge of character.”
As she spoke, she backed out of the parking space and drove down the alley, then stopped at the dead end where she could discreetly watch the building.
“What are you doing?”
“Waiting.”
