Page 39

39

“ I ’d like to speak to Supervisor Lowery, please,” Juliana said.

“He’s in meetings, may I ask who’s calling?” his secretary replied. She sounded efficient, and nothing in her tone gave any indication of how she felt about her boss. Juliana wondered if she knew—or had an inkling of—the man he was. Maybe she did and didn’t care. Or did and needed the job to keep food on the table. Or maybe Aaron Lowery was that good at hiding his true self.

“Please tell him Juliana Morganstern is on the line,” she replied, holding Simon’s steady gaze. She wondered if he had any idea how much she needed his grounding presence right now. She suspected he did. As always, though, his focus didn’t seem to be on what he was giving her, but on providing what she needed. There was a time when she hadn’t seen the difference, but she did now. The first was a form of currency, the second an act of love.

“Hold one moment, please,” the secretary said.

“You can end the call at any time,” Simon said, having heard the woman. To her right, Sabina shifted, but Simon didn’t take his eyes from her. Juliana anchored herself to him, then nodded.

“I know. And thank you, but I want this over with. We have a puppy to raise,” she said, managing a tiny smile.

“He really wouldn’t mind our undivided attention,” he conceded. They looked to their feet where the giant ball of black and tan lay sprawled on the floor of the atrium where they’d all gathered. Sherman’s butt was on her feet, and his front paws stretched out to rest on Simon’s toes.

“This dependance could be a problem,” she said.

“Maybe he needs a brother or sister.”

She looked up, holding his gaze, his words taking root in her heart. He wasn’t just talking about animals, but about their future.

“Connecting you now,” the secretary said, clicking on and off the line so quickly Juliana didn’t have a chance to thank her.

“Ms. Morganstern,” Lowery said, answering after one ring.

Juliana glanced at Sabina and Callie, a woman she was now on a first-name basis with. Both hovered over her, trying to look confident in her ability to guide the conversation as they’d agreed (after hours of discussion) the day before. Neither was very successful. She lowered her gaze and looked at Simon instead.

“Supervisor Lowery,” she said, pretending she was back in Simon’s bedroom practicing with him and only him. The team had gone over and over everything the afternoon before, but by six, she’d been exhausted and Simon had called an end to it. He’d driven her home, fed her dinner, then taken her to the hot spring. When they’d returned to his house for the evening, her nerves soothed, she’d asked him to practice with her. Without all the pressure of so many eyes on her, her confidence had grown. Now she needed to find that again and hold on to it.

“I will give you fifteen minutes to call me back on a less…public line, or we can continue as we are,” she said.

Silence. A minute ticked over on the clock on the phone.

“Give me your number,” he said. She sensed more than heard the collective exhale from the group. It didn’t matter which line he spoke from, but by expressing a preference for a private line, he’d both acknowledged that he knew who she was and believed that what she had to say wasn’t something he wanted to discuss in his office.

She rattled off the number of the burner phone provided by HICC, then hung up before he said any more. No one spoke as they waited. The only sounds were Sherman’s gentle snores. Idly, she wondered if he’d keep them up at night when he was full grown.

Ten minutes later, the phone rang, the sharp piercing sound tearing through the silence and making her jump. Simon hadn’t let go of her left hand and he held tight, as if to pull the nervous energy from her body into his. It wasn’t that easy, but she was grateful for the thought.

“Lowery,” she answered.

“Juliana,” he replied. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I want you and Dean Polinsky and Brian Gregor to leave me and Simon McLean alone,” she said.

He paused. “I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

“I understand you don’t want to admit anything, so let me spell it out for you. I’d like for you to stop chasing us, stop sending people to kill us, stop pushing us into situations where we might die. No more car chases. No more men breaking into our homes, no more arson, no more intimidation. Simon and I just want to go about our lives without having to worry about who you might send to kill us. So,” she continued, knowing he wouldn’t acknowledge anything she’d said, “what I propose is that I give you copies of all the evidence we found related to your inappropriate political dealings and the drug deals Polinsky covered up. At the risk of sounding cliché, I will also provide a copy to a trusted person with the instructions that?—”

“Should anything happen to you or Mr. McLean, it will be released. Honestly, Dr. Morganstern, I would expect more from a librarian. Don’t those books teach you anything?”

“Yes, that the simplest solution is often the best,” she shot back. Simon flashed her a ghost of a smile.

“Your uncle would be disappointed,” Lowery said. “He’s an excellent strategist.”

“You mean my aunt, but it wouldn’t be the first, nor will it be the last, time that will happen,” Juliana replied. “So what do you say? I show you what I have so you understand the gravity of the situation and we agree I stay silent and you leave us alone.”

“I still don’t know what you’re referring to, Ms. Morganstern, but it does sound like you’re trying to blackmail an elected official,” he replied.

Her gaze darted to Callie, who had her notebook out but managed to pull herself away long enough to meet her eyes, give a nod, then nod again to the phone. The call wasn’t going exactly as she and Simon planned, but Callie seemed to think it was going okay.

“You’re familiar with blackmail, aren’t you, Lowery?” she said. “It’s the missing Iraqi gold that started this whole thing, isn’t it? The gold you and Polinsky stole that Brian Gregor has been blackmailing you about for as long as you’ve been able to give him what he needs.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lowery replied, although his voice carried a different tone. A forcefulness born of surprise. An unpleasant surprise.

“Maybe, maybe not,” she said. “Do you want to take that chance? Or maybe I’ll call Polinsky next. You seemed the smartest of the bunch, so I thought I’d start with you. It’s possible I misjudged you, though.”

“If you’re so certain that what you have is damning, why don’t you go to the authorities?” he asked.

She—they’d—expected this. Simon gave her a little nod, then she responded. “For two reasons. First, I’m 100 percent certain that you will leave us alone once you realize what we know, because you won’t risk any of it coming to light. But, while we have enough information to interest a prosecutor or the FBI, we’re not sure we have enough to convict. Turning it over to the authorities would leave us without any leverage and you with every reason to kill us the same way you killed Ray Barlow. The odds seem less favorable to me and Simon if we go that route.”

He hesitated, and she had to think her mention of Barlow gave him pause. “And the second?” he finally asked.

“Second, even if the information I gave the authorities was enough to bring charges, I’m guessing you researched me. You know why I’d prefer not to be a star witness in any trial, let alone such a public one.”

Lowery tsked—actually tsked. “Severe glossophobia is a difficult burden.”

It was. Having a fear of public speaking had been yet one more of her many failings, according to her aunt and cousin. And she really wouldn’t make the best witness. What Lowery didn’t know, though, was since she’d left the constant scrutiny and criticism of her aunt and uncle’s home, speaking to groups had become easier—not easy, but hosting tours or speaking about her work or the library no longer petrified her.

“I’ve managed,” she replied, then fell silent, giving him time to contemplate his next move. He hadn’t survived in politics as long as he had by being hasty. Unfortunately, neither Sabina nor Callie felt the same, and both were rocking on the balls of their feet.

Simon shot them a dirty look. Chastened, Sabina stilled, but Callie simply glared back.

“Email me what you have,” Lowery said.

Again, during their endless prep session, they’d covered a plethora of potential objections and how she should respond to each. They’d anticipated this. “I could, but I have two emails. One is my work email, which can be monitored by the federal government. And the other was impacted by the recent breach. I’m happy to use either, but I’ll leave that to you.” While the data breach had been unfortunate, it served their purpose. She could open a new account, but she wasn’t about to offer that up.

Simon smiled and arched a brow in a way that made him look part pirate, part goofball, and entirely hers. That tiny reminder of who they were, who she was to him, bolstered her for what was to come. She brushed her thumb over the back of his hand.

“How can I trust that you’re not setting me up?” Lowery said.

A surge of triumph rose in her chest. He hadn’t admitted anything, but his behavior was that of a man who had something to worry about. And he was heading right down the path they wanted.

“You can’t,” she said.

“Not particularly reassuring, Dr. Morganstern.”

“I don’t care about reassuring you. You can make your own choices,” she said. “You’re a political man, Supervisor Lowery. Weigh everything you know, everything I’ve told you, and make your decision. I hope you’ll want to settle this between us, but if not, then let the chips fall where they may.” She paused. “But as an incentive for you to choose the path that I’d prefer, I’ll even let you pick the time and place.”

“You expect me to believe that once you hand over whatever information you have that you’ll let things go?” he challenged. “I’m not admitting to anything, of course, but if you have the evidence you’re alluding to, you don’t strike me as the type of person to let sleeping dogs lie.”

Callie held up her notepad, catching Juliana’s attention. “It’s all about self-preservation—he’ll identify with the drive to protect yourself,” it said in her oddly beautiful cursive.

Juliana nodded in understanding. “First, why would I go to the trouble of all this if I didn’t intend to—as you say—let sleeping dogs lie? Second, there’s a reporter who’s interested in you, Supervisor. She ran an article on the Bayview development and some of the…peculiarities she found in the land use designation process. You’re right, I don’t like that if we come to an agreement, I’m essentially ignoring your crimes. And those of Lieutenant Polinsky and Brian Gregor. But I believe your arrangement is short-lived as it is. I believe that even without me, your crimes will come to light. Maybe not next week or next year, but soon. If that’s the case, then why involve myself? Why put myself in the spotlight if there isn’t a need?”

Silence filled the line. “Why indeed,” he finally said. “Frankly, Juliana, I’m not sure I can trust you.”

She found it odd that he flipped between “Ms.,” “Dr.,” and “Juliana.” He probably thought it made him sound clever or devious. In reality, he sounded like a wanker.

“Like I said, Supervisor, your call. You don’t have to trust me to believe me or believe me to trust me. I have evidence that would cause a prosecutor to start looking at you and your former army buddies. I’m offering to stay silent on it so long as the three of you leave Simon and me—and everyone, and everything, close to us—alone. And, like I said, I’ll even let you pick the time and place that I hand the copies of the evidence over to you so that you understand the scope and gravity. My only condition on that offer is that Simon will be with me when we meet—I’m not stupid enough to come on my own. That’s all I can do, though. The rest is up to you.”

Once again, silence fell over the line. Callie rolled her eyes, and Sabina looked to be itching to open her computer. Juliana wondered what the cyber expert felt the need to research. Then again, maybe she just couldn’t be without her device for any length of time. Like an addiction. For Sabina’s husband’s sake, Juliana hoped that wasn’t the case.

“I’ll let you know,” Lowery finally said before abruptly ending the call. That, more than anything, told Juliana she’d rattled him.

After double-checking that the line was dead, she looked over to Callie and waited for her reaction. Juliana had never dealt with a criminal before. With the exception of a few minor detours, the conversation had covered everything they’d hoped to cover. But she’d been so focused on the minutiae that she didn’t have a good sense of the tone—of whether Lowery would take the bait.

Brushing back a lock of hair and tucking it into her ponytail, Callie nodded. “You done good, Juliana. I can’t say for certain, but if I were a betting woman, which I am, I’d put my wager on you. He’ll call back. Not today. But he won’t wait too long.”

Simon let out a quiet breath. “And if you were to bet on when this will all be over?”

“So that you two can forge ahead in blissful coupledom?” Callie said, not entirely enthusiastic about the prospect. Not that Juliana thought the agent didn’t want that for them, but more that she didn’t believe it was a real thing. As if love, romantic love, fell into the category of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny.

“Yes,” Simon responded without hesitation.

Callie’s dark eyes studied him. Then she sighed. “If all goes as I anticipate—and it usually does—then less than a week. Probably closer to two days.”

“Good,” Simon said with a nod. Then turning to her, he grinned. “How about we take the beast for a walk and figure out where we’re going for our first vacation?”