Page 99 of Facing the Enemy
When Gage repeated the brief conversation, I silently confirmed Florakis’s arrogance again.
He ran his fingers through his rust-brown hair. “Moving back to your apartment today isn’t a good decision.”
“If Florakis wants to find me, he will. But I have an idea.”
“Your last idea nearly got innocent people hurt and both of us fired.” He palmed the steering wheel. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. What are you thinking?”
“This is more like a sting, and we’ll clear it with the SAC. Hear me out first. I’ll move back in and let Florakis think I’m settled. You could pose as an electrician and install an alarm and camera. Once you leave and it’s dark, you return through a back entrance, and we wait for him. Florakis, or someone he hired, found his way into my apartment before, and he will again.”
“It’s so old-school, Risa. Still, it has merit. How many nights will it take?” He winked at me. “I’m beginning to like this plan.”
I blew out feigned exasperation. “Shouldn’t take long. Every day that passes increases the chances of us finding evidence. For sure we won’t get much sleep. We could request surveillance while I’m at work and ensure they see and hear everything. Since you’re on his list too, you could add equipment to your house.”
“Already handled my place after I realized Mercury Alarms is my service.” He chuckled. “My name was on the last list. Why is it you refused to stay at my house but now you’re requesting I stay at yours? Have I become irresistible?”
She couldn’t stop the laugh. “The listening devices will be our chaperones.”
“You can be so unpredictable,” he said. “But lovable.”
“I’m trying to be serious.” I focused on putting myself in our subject’s shoes. Florakis served as a gofer for someone desperate to keep the money flow going. Someone who had fingerprints nationally or internationally. “Remember when I posited a theory about our bad guy having teams who knew nothing about what the others were doing?” When he nodded, I continued. “Those teams could separately specialize in kidnappings, fraud adoptions, drugs, human trafficking, and whatever else. While the ring’s headquarters might be anywhere, Houston has their attention. None of the agents were killed in Des Moines, New York, Columbus, or the other cities where we’ve seen activity. Unless deaths occurred that haven’t been linked or solved.”
“We’re too close to identifying and locating them.” Gage’s words mirrored my conclusion. “It reverts to Jack, Luke, and you stumbling onto the evidence to break the ring.”
“Can we talk to Luke’s widow, then stop at the hospital to visit Jack?” I said. “I checked, and his condition still isn’t good, but we can see him for five minutes. Unfortunately, he had a setback due to an allergic reaction to a drug.”
Gage made the arrangement with Mrs. Reardon and pocketed his phone. “I’d appreciate it if you’d take the lead with Mrs. Reardon.She’s expecting us, and I thought talking to another woman might be easier for her.”
“Sure. Luke referred to her as his lovely bride. They were so happy together.” My mind leveled at ground zero. “Were the agents assigned to Luke’s murder able to learn anything?”
“His phone hasn’t been recovered, but his last call came from a burner and located in the downtown area. He received the call, told his wife he’d be back in an hour, but never returned. She’s in bad shape, but her sister is with her.”
Gage’s suggestion ushered in compassion for Mrs. Reardon. I’d lost Trenton, and she’d lost Luke. Not a club anyone willingly joined.
Gage pulled next to the curb in front of the Reardon home. A small one-story brick, decorated for Christmas with a waving Santa in the front yard and three elves at a workbench. Lights framed the sidewalk and roofline. No sign of the tragedy, which almost made it worse. I understood so well the void, loneliness, never-ending grief, and one day of darkness rolling into the next. And now I knew the reason why the season competed with Gage’s emotions. Yet I could feel God’s healing, and He’d heal Gage and Mrs. Reardon too. If she let Him.
Gage rang the doorbell, and she answered. I’d seen Mrs. Reardon at an FBI event, but that had been months ago. Then she wore her jet-black hair below her shoulders, makeup artistically applied, accenting huge sky-blue eyes and long lashes. Not so this morning. Her hair hung in strings, swollen red eyes, and ragged pajamas. I’d resembled her not so long ago, and the pain still cut through me sharp ... ragged.
She opened the door wide enough to see us, clinging to it as though she’d changed her mind about agreeing to an interview. If so, I couldn’t blame her.
“Hi, Mrs. Reardon. I’m Agent Risa Jacobs and this is Agent Patterson.”
“You came to our wedding.”
“Who’s there?” a woman’s voice called in the distance.
“FBI. I’ve been expecting them,” Mrs. Reardon said.
“I’ll be right with you.”
Mrs. Reardon opened the door and showed us into a modest living area where Gage and I sat on a cream-colored sofa. Photos of the young couple mingled among the Christmas decorations.
The other woman joined us and introduced herself. No need to say she and Mrs. Reardon were sisters. Same angular face and sky-blue eyes. The sister sat in an adjacent chair next to Mrs. Reardon and took her hand.
I peered into the widow’s drawn face. “Thank you for seeing us during this tragic time. We are so very sorry about your loss. We plan to attend the memorial service.”
She bit her lip and whispered thanks. “You found Luke’s—?”
“Yes,” I said.
