Page 73 of Girl Betrayed

“I’m not. I told you; Jake has no idea I snuck out. Or at least he didn’t, but now that I’ve been sitting here for an eternity?—”

“Claire! You know what’s at stake. Just do it.”

“No. I missed the memo where you were put in charge, but I’m done following blindly. If you have news just tell me.”

“Not over the phone.”

“Then come to the coffee shop.”

The barista shot Claire a withering glare, probably hoping she’d just leave already so the girl could close up for the night.

“Just tell me one thing,” Claire said. “Did you find him?”

“Meet me and find out.” Then the line went dead.

Out of options Claire stood up, dropped a few bills on the table and walked back into the inky blackness of the frosty night.

Betty’s directions were easy enough to follow. Left, two blocks, left again. As promised, they led to a sketchy looking overpass.

The traffic on the street above sounded like thunder rolling overhead as Claire slinked further into the shadows. She let her eyes adjust. Graffiti, cardboard boxes, soiled sleeping bags, crushed beer cans and broken bottles … all the signs of a five-star transient hideout.

Claire wanted to call out for Betty or Max but kept quiet on the off chance they weren’t the only ones hiding here.

This wasn’t the kind of place she wanted to be caught trespassing.

The crunch of gravel behind her made her whirl around, but not in time. The scream died in her throat as strong arms circled around her, a large, gloved hand covering her mouth.

59

Dana usedher key card to access the elevator, stepping on with the silent Agent Spector by her side. She still wasn’t sure bringing him here was a good idea, but when he’d asked if there was somewhere private where they could speak, the Smithsonian was the first place that came to mind.

Being on her home turf offered a modicum of comfortability. She’d yet to learn if her sense of security was false, but since Agent Spector hadn’t offered any other information, she’d decided to take every advantage she could get.

Dana hated the worry she knew she was causing Jake. She’d seen the anguish in his eyes right before she’d disconnected their call. He was part of the reason she’d chosen to come to the Smithsonian. It was a place Jake would look for her if things with the mysterious Homeland Security agent went south.

The elevator doors rolled open, and Dana stepped out into the familiar library she called home. “My office is right this way,” she offered.

Past stacks of dusty books and display cases of ancient bones, Agent Spector followed without pause. If he was affronted by the subject matter of sub level three, it didn’t show.

Finally, they arrived at Dana’s office. Agent Spector took a seat first, making himself comfortable in the leather chair in front of her desk. Out of habit, Dana took her own seat, behind the desk, like she was the one conducting this strange interview.

Agent Spector stared at her, an amused look on his weather worn face. At first Dana had thought they were around the same age, but upon closer inspection, she estimated he was a bit older, maybe late forties.

His tanned face held a boyish charm, and his physique was beyond impressive. It was the dusting of salt and pepper at his temples that gave him away. It spread through his short sandy brown hair like cream mixing into coffee.

Dana sat across from the quiet man, fidgeting with her ragged nails while she waited for him to speak. She understood the technique. He was waiting her out. Seeing if she’d get spooked and offer up some fact he didn’t know he wanted.

She was determined not to fall for it, but in the end, he was more seasoned than her.

“You asked for somewhere to speak. I assumed that meant you had something to say,” Dana pressed.

His grin was so sudden, Dana wondered if she’d imagined the flash of white teeth and dimples. It was a wonder he didn’t deploy it more. His smile was full of a boyishness that made it hard for her to remember he was a federal agent with the power to lock her up and throw away the key.

“I have many things to say. But I’m more interested in your opinions.”

“On what?”

“Cash Holloway.”