“Blond hair, fancy threads, enough diamonds to weigh down a cow?” Matt lowered the binoculars and nodded. “Check, check, and check.”
The woman said something to Kristina and the woman once again waved her newspaper, looking completely flummoxed as she responded.
“Kristina doesn’t seem too happy about seeing her.” She wasn’t a doctor or other birthing center staff member from what Taylor could recall. “Whoisshe?”
Matt reached into his backseat and pulled out a small parabolic microphone. “Let’s find out.”
The blonde moved closer to Kristina. In her high heels, she loomed over the smaller woman and Kristina reared back slightly, as if afraid she might catch something.
Matt stuck the earpiece in his ear and rolled down his window. He adjusted a few controls and then cocked his head.
“What are they saying?” Taylor whispered.
Matt took the earpiece out and held it up so both of them could listen. “Babies, what else?”
As Taylor leaned close to the black earpiece, she heard Kristina snarl, “…told you the other night, this is on you…that baby…the whole thing.” She pointed a finger. “…your fault, not mine.”
The blonde’s bracelets jangled on her arm as she raised a finger and put it in Kristina’s face. She was facing them, so her voice came through clearer. “Just keep your mouth shut.”
Blonde turned on her fancy heels and stomped back to her Escalade.
Matt threw the mic over the seat and started the car. “Stay with Kristina or follow blondie, Agent Sinclair?” He threw her a look, his hands gripping the steering wheel. “Your call.”
He wanted to go after the blonde. Taylor looked between him and Kristina Caldwell, now hustling inside her garage, the door already starting its downward descent. The Escalade left the driveway and jetted up the street.
Taylor looked back at Matt. “I’m betting Kristina’s not going anywhere else tonight. We can always come back.”
He grinned and Taylor’s insides did funny things. “I was hoping you’d say that. Put on your seatbelt.”
* * *
They followed the blonde to the Adams Morgan area of DC where she slowed in front of a white stucco, corner building and then scored street parking in the middle of the adjacent block. Matt pulled into the fire lane on the opposite corner and waited as the woman parked and headed across the street toward the main entrance of the three-story building.
Lush flowerbeds filled the four-foot area in front and a leafy red bush added vibrancy to the long city block. Add to that the ornate overhang with red scrollwork covering the entry door and the whole place screamed of old-world elegance and money.
A man stood under the overhang keying in a code while Taylor snapped photos.
“Let’s send this address to Grey and Teeg. See what they come up with.”
“Send them her plate number, too. Might as well do the full workup.”
“I will.” She fired off a text and dropped her phone into her lap. “Here we are, chasing a hunch and following a woman who could be a total waste of our time.”
“Eh. If it is, we cross her off the list. You never know.”
Taylor chuckled. “She wasn’t evenonour list.”
“She is now.”
A car three doors down vacated a spot—lucky break there—and Matt hit the gas. “Parking space. Let’s grab it while we’re on ice.”
“We’re parking? We have no idea who this woman is or if she’s important to our case. How long do you plan to wait?”
“No idea.”
“Yeesh.”
“Welcome to grunt work, babe.”