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"Tinkerbell?" Bit shoved his grey knit hat a bit farther back on his head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Brook had clearly gotten the letter of his nickname for Sylvie wrong, but she didn't have time to delve any deeper.
"Never mind," Brook muttered as she gestured toward his monitors. "This can be on the back-burner, but I need a favor."
"You want me to find out who has been talking to reporters in your building, right?" Bit seemed rather too enthusiastic about such a task, but she was pretty sure that she already had her answer in regard to that mystery. "Or do you want me to find out about the reporter? I'm sure we can—"
"The reporter who wrote the article was just doing his job," Brook explained, waving a hand to dismiss any thought of retaliation. She wasn't one to sit back and let others walk all over her, but she recognized when it wasn't personal. "There is a new tenant in the building, and he shares the same elevator bank that I do. I just want to make sure that he is who he says he is, because I literally don't have time to deal with any domestic issues at the moment. His name is Colin Vogel. He's a lawyer, late thirties, and apparently has an excellent credit rating. Like I said, it can be put on the backburner. Text me if you need anything. I'll be gone most of the day."
She finally made her way back to the office, noticing some people near the elevator. There were three men and two women, all dressed in business attire. She could only assume that they had a meeting with one of the analysts or portfolio managers next door.
As Brook neared her desk, she could hear the vibrations of her phone on the hard surface. It was signaling a text message, which was probably from Graham. He'd mentioned that he was scheduled to have lunch with Captain Dante later today.
She set her coffee cup down as she took a seat, wanting to clear up a few things before she got on the road. She finally picked up her phone and noticed that she'd received several notifications. Two voicemails, and three text messages. She decided to listen to the voicemail messages first, so she pressed the buttons necessary to retrieve them and put her cell phone on speaker so she was free to log into her computer.
"Brook, this is Matt Henley. We haven't spoken since the Princess Killer case, and I heard the news about your relation to Jacob Walsh. You can imagine my surprise. Considering that I helped you out before, I was wondering if you would reconsider giving that exclusive to Jennifer Madsen," Matt said with hope lingering in his tone. She'd completely forgotten that she'd given him her personal cell phone number. Granted, he hadn't abused it, for which she should be grateful. "I'll even let you set the stage. No questions that you aren't prepared for during the interview, and you can even tell me which topics to stay away from. You have my number."
Matt Henley was a crime vlogger who had only grown in popularity after getting an exclusive with one of the federal agents involved in a prior case regarding a high-profile serial killer. Fortunately, that had been her end of the bargain, which she had fulfilled. She owned him nothing more, but that didn't mean she would discard his offer entirely. Burning one's bridges was a luxury of the rich, and Brook had always considered herself to be a practical woman.
"I'll be in the city tonight," Graham advised her as the second voicemail began to play. "I'm about to reach out to Theo, but I went through some of Kelsey's things last night. She had a box of photographs that I'd stored in the attic. I found a couple that had the Snyder boys in them, not that I was even aware that they really knew each other that well. Anyway, call me when you can."
Brook immediately returned his call, only to have it go to voicemail. He was most likely speaking with Theo, but she left a message anyway to let him know that she would be out of the city until later today. It was doubtful that she would return to the office, and she planned to take her things with her.
It was probably best they hadn't connected, anyway.
While she understood the need to update the families of the victims while working for the FBI, Graham wasn't simply a client. He might say that he wanted justice, but his brand of justice was entirely different than that envisioned by the courts.
She tended to agree, especially when it came to her brother.
Making things personal completely changed the narrative when it came to justice.
As she logged off her computer, she noticed that the group in the hallway had been escorted into the financial firm. The last thing she needed was to get in a situation that was difficult to extricate herself if necessary. An elevator only held so many people, and she'd rather avoid a setting where their curiosity got the better of them. With her face splashed across every news platform lately, it was best for everyone if she kept a low profile.
As she leaned down to reach for her briefcase that she always stored underneath her desk, she swiped the display of her phone and pressed the button that would take her to her texts. All three messages were from Derek.
I might have a lead. Can you meet me at the hotel?
She didn't even bother to read the other messages. She set her computer bag on top of her desk before quickly returning his call. It went straight to voicemail.
Brook stood and stored a couple of files that she wanted to look over this evening into her bag, as well as her tablet and laptop. She searched for her favorite pen, but it wasn't anywhere on her desk. She must have left it in the conference room.
It didn't take her long to read the other text messages.
I'm going to cancel my flight.
Pick me up before you head out to the Snyder's residence.
Brook once again tried to reach Derek with the same result.
"Derek, it's Brook. I'm about to leave the office. I'll pick you up in twenty minutes."
It didn't take her long to collect her coat, scarf, and leather gloves. She didn't bother to change into her winter boots. She'd parked in the heated garage, and the Snyder's had already cleared their driveway and sidewalk of any ice and snow. She'd be back in the city well before the first snowflake began to fall from the sky from the new stormfront moving into the area.
With any luck, she'd have more answers than questions upon her return.
Chapter Twenty
Brooklyn Sloane
