Page 19 of Ground Truth

Gaspar arched one eyebrow and said nothing. He continued his internet search, digging up public records mostly, and not many of them. Greta’s life seemed less interesting than her death and the reports of that were few.

When Drake pulled up into the visitors’ parking lot at Channel 32, he said, “You’re a whiz with the tech, aren’t you? I’d never have found that stuff about Greta on my own.”

“Grow or die, as they say. I’m not much good in the field anymore. I had to learn new skills.” Gaspar closed the laptop and slid it under his seat. “I’ve spent a lot of time behind a desk. There’s plenty of intel out there if you have the right clearances and know where to look for it.”

Drake parked the big Navigator across two parking spaces and squelched the engine. “Maybe you’re not good at fieldwork, but I’m no trained investigator. Why don’t you take the lead with Margo Brady? I’ll chime in when it seems appropriate.”

Gaspar opened the door and paused as the electric running boards deployed. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

He waited for Drake to get out. Long rides in a restricted space had become a significant struggle since he left the FBI and rarely spent time cooped up.

Gaspar put his aching right leg onto the running board and rested it there until he slid his left foot onto the pavement for strength and balance. He put all his weight on his left leg as he moved his right foot to the ground and steadied his body. He finished the maneuver before Drake made his way around the front of the big SUV, which meant Drake might not have noticed Gaspar’s struggle.

He reached into his pocket for four Tylenol and swallowed them dry. He focused on ignoring the pain and refused to limp as he joined Drake for the long walk to the front entrance.

An armed security guard stood to one side with his hands resting on his utility belt. He carried himself like an off-duty cop or maybe retired military. Square, sturdy, no-nonsense.

Drake pulled the handle on the big glass entry door and stepped inside. Gaspar followed. The guard didn’t try to stop them.

The lobby was clean and stark. There were a couple of benches on either side of the entrance and a big desk fifteen feet inside. Another armed security guard stood behind the desk.

Drake took the lead. He stepped up to the desk and said, “We’d like to see Ms. Margo Brady, please.”

“Is she expecting you?”

“Probably not. Tell her we’re here at the request of Greta Campbell’s sister,” Drake said.

“Will she know who Greta Campbell is?” the guard asked.

Drake gave Gaspar a quick look. Gaspar stepped up. “Greta Campbell Reed was one of your employees until she died four years ago. We’d like to talk to Ms. Brady about her.”

“I see,” the guard replied. “Can I see your ID please?”

Gaspar handed over his Scarlett Investigations business card. Drake didn’t have a card. But the guard seemed okay with just the one.

“Have a seat over there. I’ll call Ms. Brady,” the guard said.

“Think she’ll see us?” Drake asked as they moved away from the desk.

“Why not? There’s two armed guards standing here. What does she have to worry about? Besides, she works in a news station. She’s gotta be used to talking to people she doesn’t know,” Gaspar replied.

The desk guard clacked a keyboard. Probably sending a message up to Margo Brady. Or maybe to her boss. Five minutes later, a door beside the reception desk clicked open. A sturdy woman about forty-five years old strode into the lobby.

She was dressed in jeans and a blue chambray shirt that enhanced her deep blue eyes. She had a splash of freckles across her pale face and a mop of red hair the same color as her eyebrows.

She stuffed her hands in her back pockets so her elbows splayed. “I’m Margo Brady,” she said as she approached. “How can I help you?”

Gaspar stepped forward and extended his hand. She shook hands with him and then with Drake as he said, “I’m Carlos Gaspar. This is Alonzo Drake. We’re here at the request of Hanna Campbell. We’d like to talk to you about her sister, Greta Reed.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t even know Greta had a sister. I’m not likely to be much help to you.”

“Is there a place we can have some privacy?” Gaspar asked.

Margo scanned them up and down like a robot with x-ray vision. Whatever she’d been worried about must have been something she didn’t find.

She tilted her head toward the door. “There’s a table outside. It’s a nice day.”

“Lead the way,” Drake said.

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