Page 47 of Go First
“I have an appointment,” he insisted, brandishing a leather folio.“Ten a.m.with Sister Dorothy.”
Marcus strode over.“Sir, this is an active crime scene.Your name?”
“Ethan Tate.”The man’s eyes darted toward the shrouded body, then away.“I—uh—the meeting was…” He jumped suddenly, as if he’d just made the connection between the body and the agents.And possibly himself.“What’s just happened here?”he asked, hoarsely.
“Sister Dorothy was murdered.”Marcus said.“What was the meeting about?”
Tate seemed to recover fast from the shock.“That would be between me and the Sister.”His jaw clenched.“I’m just a financial consultant.If we’re done here, I’ll be going.”
He started to move, but Marcus placed a large, firm paw in the centre of his chest.
“Do you have a business card, Mr Tate?”
Tate eyeballed him, weighing things up, considering the odds.He looked like he could fight his way out of trouble, as well as talk it, if the need was pressing.Eventually he broke his stare and pulled a card from his pocket.
Marcus took the card, read it, looked from the card to the man, and studied him a long moment, before stepping aside with a curt nod.“We’ll be in touch.”
Tate left quickly, his shoes clicking on marble like retreating gunfire.
Poppy slipped her phone from her pocket before the echo died.Her thumbs flew.Within minutes she murmured, “Got him.Ethan also Eytan also Evan Tate, and Evan Ward.Two years in federal for wire fraud.Currently under IRS investigation for laundering and tax evasion.His clients?An eclectic bunch, including a number of cash-heavy, faith-based charities.”
Marcus gave a low whistle.“So maybe our healer was another preacher skimming the flock.”
“Or someone thought she was,” Kate said.
“There’s nothing in the alley by the basement window,” Poppy reported.“But it rained in the night.”
Kate nodded, distractedly, gazing at the bagged note.The scripture burned in her mind like a brand.She took a photo with her camera, then handed the evidence to Poppy.
“Make sure it’s logged and photographed before it goes in the van.I need to go see someone.”
She walked away, eyes on her feet, deep in thought.Observing her, Poppy and Marcus conducted a conversation in shrugs:
What’s up with her?
Who knows?
Outside, the late-morning light dazzled against the cruiser roofs.Kate slid behind the wheel of her Bureau sedan.Before she could start the engine, her phone buzzed.
“Governor?”she answered.
“Agent Valentine,” the prison governor’s voice rumbled, heavy with fatigue.“I’m calling about Cox—his condition’s taken a turn.The wound was deep but as I believe I told you, it avoided any major organs or arteries, and it was cleaned properly.Unfortunately, he’s showing signs of sepsis.”
Kate frowned.“What’s the treatment for that?”
“Stronger antibiotics, IV fluids, oxygen.The Doc has recommended complete rest so I just wanted to let you know, in case you were thinking to interview him.He might need to go to hospital if things don’t improve.”
“I appreciate that.It’s actually Father Santos I wanted to talk to.”
“He’s transferring out to County Jail tomorrow morning.”
Kate cursed inwardly — there was no way she could get over to the prison today.And Winters wouldn’t forget that she’d promised to re-interview the priest.But tomorrow was another day; it didn’t matterwhereshe interviewed Santos, as long as she got it done.
In the meantime, she still had the Governor on the line, and something else on her mind.
“While I’ve got you, Governor, about the plastic shank—my boss suggested that Cox himself could have brought the weapon into the room.”
He hesitated.“It’s possible.He wouldn’t have been searched prior to the visit.For obvious reasons, we only search the inmatesaftera visit.And I’m afraid they’re always two steps ahead when it comes to hiding and smuggling.It’s… a constant battle.”