23
While Carson told them, without mentioning telepathy, of course, Griffin watched Jenny’s face. Jenny usually looked serene and calm as a Madonna, as if nothing could faze her. She was small and round, with thick dark hair in a ponytail, sweet until someone bad-mouthed someone close to her or her cooking. Then she could turn mean as a Doberman. She was also smart as a whip. Aimée Rose was a good seven inches taller, outweighed Jenny by thirty pounds. Her hair was a short cap around her head, raven black this week, and she looked as tough as one of Griffin’s hiking boots. But, still, he’d always thought Jenny was the tougher of the two.
Carson spoke fast, knowing time was running short. Griffin realized Jenny was studying Carson as she spoke, her eyes cool, assessing. Then Jenny turned to him and slowly nodded. Good, Jenny believed Carson. He trusted her judgment of people.
Griffin picked it up. “I heard Carson yell, but I couldn’t tell which house she was in. Luckily, I was nearly out of town and the houses were farther apart, and not that many. Still, she had to yell again before I found the right house.” One of Jenny’s eyebrows shot up, only her left eyebrow, a move he’d tried to do since college and couldn’t, a move he’d always admired. She knew about his gift or curse, depending on his perspective at the moment. He wondered if she suspected Carson’s shout wasn’t out loud. She didn’t say anything, but he knew Jenny would ask about it later.
Aimée Rose said in the direction of the deputies, “May I use my cell phone?”
Jewel looked agonized. Brewster said, “No. Not while you’re with these two. Can’t have you sending messages to their criminal buddies while you’re in here. If you want to call them a lawyer, wait until you’re out of the station. But good luck reaching Junior Rippetoe, he never works after five o’clock.” Brewster grinned. “Like the sheriff said, Judge Pinder will be here when he gets here. He’ll decide what to do with these two for putting poor Rafer in the hospital.”
“Putting Rafer in the hospital!” Carson looked ready to spit she was so angry.
Griffin put his hand on her arm, said quietly, “Let him say whatever he wants. It won’t matter.” He looked down at his watch. Soon now they’d see SAC Bettina Kraus’s very pissed face.
“Yeah, that’s what you managed to do, with pretty boy’s help.” He gave her a hard look. “You, an out-of-town nobody.”
“You think I’m a nobody? Well, maybe I am, but I happen to work for Ritter Aquino in New York at Aquino Communications.” Her chin went up. “Mr. Aquino is my boss.”
“Really?” Aimée Rose said. “You work for the big kahuna? On Madison Avenue? Their headquarters is at the center of the communications universe, right?”
Carson nodded. “Yes. And as I told Griffin and the sheriff, I’m here to interview Dr. Alek Kuchar.” She turned to Griffin. “Sorry, but there’s been so little time to tell you anything about myself, my job, or my background. Mr. Aquino and my father have been friends since childhood, so I’ve known him all my life. I’ve been one of Mr. Aquino’s primary speechwriters for three years now, and doing my own writing, too. This trip? It was my father’s idea I should come interview Dr. Kuchar. Uncle Ritter agreed, thought it would add to my chops.”
Griffin stared at her. Ritter Aquino had enough firepower to get her out of this himself—in fact, he was a nuke, an EMP, who could put out every Bodine light in the area.
He picked up a wave of uneasiness from Carson. She was fretting, wondering if she should tell them something else or not. He took a guess on what it was. He said, “Your father and Ritter Aquino go back a long way, you said. Tell us about him.”
Griffin’s not going to like this. I should have told him earlier.Okay, chin up and do it. “My dad’s Vincente Paulo DeSilva, of the DeSilva family of organized crime fame centered in Newark, New Jersey.” She clasped her hands so tightly in front of her, her fingers turned white. “Listen, my dad’s not part of the DeSilva family organization, even though he’s been hassled about it by every local politician and national law enforcement agency. Nothing ever comes of it, ever. He opted out of the family when he studied journalism at UCLA, to get away from all of them.”
Brewster looked like his face would split, his grin big enough to show a gold molar. “Well now, Jewel, the sheriff was right. Looks like we’ve got us a real connected criminal here. What gall.”
“I thought I was a movie star,” Carson said.
“So you’re a connected movie star, girl.”
“That’s Dr. Girl to you.”
“Shut your yap. The sheriff’s going to love this. You’re mobbed up. No wonder you tried to murder Rafer, it’s in your blood. Jewel, we’ve gotta tell the sheriff he’s got himself a baby rattler.”
Jenny said in a clear voice, “Vincente DeSilva is a journalist and he also writes biographies. Beast Killer—that’s his most famous one—is about Genghis Khan. I’ve read it,” she added to Carson. “Your dad’s a very good writer.”
“Thank you.”
Griffin said, “Add me to the readership list, Carson. He is very good.”
She leaned in close, whispered so the deputies couldn’t hear her, “Unfortunately Dad’s in Vienna, researching his next book. Uncle Ritter would help us if I call him. He’ll blow a fit, then get all icy cold and measure Sheriff Bodine for a coffin.”
Griffin sat back in the uncomfortable chair with its uneven legs, crossed his arms, and said, “Let’s hold Mr. Aquino in reserve, see what the FBI manages first.”
Brewster said to Jewel, his eyes narrowed on Carson, “This Aquino fellow, he’s a big shot in what? Communications? You mean he talks on the news?” He laughed at his own joke, looked down at his watch. “I gave you more time than you’re supposed to have. Sheriff Bodine said twenty minutes and I gave you twenty-seven. I wanted to hear if you could tell your story the same way twice, girl. Now, you can count on me calling the sheriff, telling him the score.”
Griffin said, “Of course, I could call Sheriff Dix Noble in Maestro. Dix can be quite a load, his wife, Ruth, too.” He added to Carson, “She’s an FBI agent, sometimes my partner. As with Aquino, we’ll hold off for a while. I don’t know how many agents are coming, but I’ll wager the sheriff’s leather sofa they’re not going to need backup.” He glanced at Brewster. “Maybe you want to tell Sheriff Bodine to get ready for a tsunami.”
“You aren’t scaring anybody, boy. Jewel, get these two back to their cell. If the girl here wants to use the facilities, she can call out.” He checked his watch. “At least we’re getting overtime.”
They heard Fayreen yell, “Precious Lord above, don’t shoot me!” Then a woman’s voice Griffin recognized: “Hold yourself perfectly still and stay quiet.”
The cavalry had arrived.
He whispered to Carson, “That’s Bettina. You’re going to love her.”