Page 66 of Dead Fall

Carolan quieted down and let her speak.

“Next, you used your contacts at his cell phone and email providers to give you a sneak peek into his records. Did you have to write up an exigent-threat letter on Bureau letterhead, or did they just hand you what you wanted?”

“No comment.”

“All because this guy was at two scenes from our investigation and then posted photos of you on some whacko blog site? Is that about right?”

“Every piece of this is interconnected,” he said. “Trust me.”

“I trust you,personally. It’s your judgment I’m really starting to worry about.”

“How’d the guy know about the murder scene and the Commodore Yacht Club?”

“You said it yourself,” she replied. “He’s probably got a source inside D.C. Metro. Even so, that’s what journalists do. They cultivate sources. If Metro has a problem with it, let them sort it out.”

“What if his source isn’t inside D.C. Metro? What if he’s getting his information from somewhere else?”

“Like where? The Russians?”

Once again, Carolan raised an eyebrow.

“Even if he did, he’s never going to admit that to you,” Fields stated. “What’s more, I’m guessing that if it was the Russians, they’re smart enough not to have left a trail that the FBI could pick up just doing a search of phone and email records. Correct?”

Her boss nodded. “I only looked back over the last couple of days, but there wasn’t anything there that looked suspicious.”

“Yet here we are,” she replied, nodding at the outside of the chubby, redheaded photographer’s building. “You know it’s not too late to pull the plug on this. I’ll forget you ever told me about the phone and email records and we’ll put this Mike Taylor character in our rearview mirror. That would be the smart thing to do.”

“We’re not doing that,” Carolan stated. “This is just going to be a nice knock-and-talk.”

“Which he’ll be recording. You know that, right? I can already see the next headline onThe Public Truth—FRUSTRATED FEDS FISH AS FRESH LEADS FIZZLE.”

“That’s not half-bad. If this crime-fighting job doesn’t work out, you may have a career as a writer.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Fields replied. “And just so we’recrystalclear, I was against this from the jump, okay? I’m here solely to back you up.”

“Duly noted,” said Carolan as he put the car in park and turned off the ignition. “Let’s go pay Internet Adolf a visit.”

Fields rolled her eyes, got out of the vehicle, and walked up to the building with her boss.

A woman with a child in a stroller was on her way out and Carolan held the door for her. Savvy city person that she was, the woman paused to make sure the strangers weren’t taking advantage of the situation to access the building announced.

When it became obvious that she wasn’t going to move until she got some more information, Carolan flashed her his FBI credentials, along with a smile.

“Whoever it is, I hope you brought a warrant,” the woman stated.

“Nothing like that,” Fields offered. “We’re here to transport a witness to court.”

“On a Saturday,” said the woman. “Right.”

“Special session.”

“Whatever,” the woman replied, no longer interested. Adjusting the diaper bag over her shoulder, she pushed the stroller and walked away.

“She was fun,” said Carolan, once the woman was out of earshot.

“Just be grateful she let us in,” Fields replied. “I’m guessing you didn’t have a plan beyond ringing Taylor’s buzzer.”

“I always have a plan,” the man responded, tapping his jacket pocket. “Brought my picks. Just in case.”