Blake was looking at them when she stood straight. Ericka smiled sweetly. Let him wonder if they discussed him.

  He stood. “I think I’ll stretch my legs.” Blake exited the room and Ericka finally felt herself relax.

  “He’s a bit of a boorish fellow.”

  “I noticed that too.”

  “The Chief threw him into the position of leader for a few reasons. He knew he would turn over information, he thought he would fail, or he hoped he would get us all fired. I can’t figure it out.”

  Ericka couldn’t either. Blake was a good agent, sometimes. But this time he’d let his ego get in the way.

  She was tired of thinking about Blake though. Right now, they needed to find evidence to use against Wexell or find the real perp which ever was the real answer. She thought for a moment then asked, “Do you remember anything that you saw at Fanny’s house?”

  Quinn massaged his temples. “Not much. She had a timeline. She had some pictures. Nothing that really linked her brother with the Chief. Other than, wait, I know it’s in there. A letter. That’s what it was. Wexell had written Chopin a letter about his great service and asked if he could do one more thing for him. The details weren’t spelled out though. It was just will you meet me so we can discuss.”

  Ericka nodded. Wexell was involved. If not the mastermind, then he was involved in another way.

  The door opened and Greg entered. He carried a disposable coffee cup which he handed over to her.

  “We saw the nurse on the way over. I think it’s time for us to blow this joint.” Greg looked around. “Where is Blake?”

  ****

  Blake walked down a quiet hallway and leaned his head back against the wall. The texture poked the back of his head and he moved until he found a comfortable spot. The secret whispered discussions were one thing he hated. His parents used to do that while sneaking glances at him, right before they got divorced.

  Linda hadn’t done that because he’d divorced her, but one of his other wives had.

  It was one of his biggest pet peeves.

  He knew that Wexell thought he was a screw up that he could extort and that had been why he enlisted him as the lead investigator. That was why he went straight to Director Manis. When everything went down and the Director took the Chief’s job, Blake wanted first dibs on the director’s position.

  Although it would probably go to Tito, the director’s precious son. He wasn’t even sure why he was trying.

  His phone rang.

  Wexell.

  He lifted the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

  “Hager, it’s Chief Wexell. Have you discovered anything yet?”

  “I’m afraid nothing useful.”

  “Well, I think this lady came in as a masseuse and tried to con me out of information. I told her a lie of course, but I need you to look into her. Her name was Linda, that’s all I got.”

  Blake started to cough.

  “You all right?”

  “Of course. Let me call the hotel and look into that. Which hotel are you staying at?”

  Wexell rattled off the name and Blake had to swallow. That was their hotel. So, it was his Linda that had pretended to be a masseuse to gather information. What were they doing at the hotel? He was afraid to ask.

  “Hager?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Did you get that?”

  “I did, sir. I will get right on that. I have the best tech guy in the group.”

  “Good to hear.”

  “Should I call this number?”

  “Call my cell number.”

  “Very well.”

  Blake hung up the phone and looked at his cell phone. There was no need to call Archie. But he did need to talk to Greg. They needed a plan.

  Greg stepped around the corner. “There you are. Quinn is being released and Ericka went to get the car.” He paused. “You look like a man with something to say.”

  “I have a lot to say, but I don’t know if you’re going to like it.”

  Blake spilled everything he could gather from the conversation with Wexell.

  “Did you call Archie?”

  “No, I don’t need to.”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  “I do.”

  “If he has our phones tapped, he’ll know if you didn’t call. But first let me find a way to reach out so Archie will be prepared.”

  “How do you plan to do that? Everyone in the office and even the office itself might be under surveillance.”

  “I know. We need to think of someone that isn’t in the office. Or someone that we can get out of the office.”

  Blake smiled. “I have an idea.”

  He dialed. “I need to send flowers to Monica Wells.” He rattled off the address and the type of flowers and a special message for Archie. He paid extra to find out when the delivery had been made.

  “That should get it.”

  “Pretty savvy. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  “I’m full of surprises.”

  “I heard that.”

  Blake heard the mumbled comment as well. They walked together into Quinn’s room. He was signing paperwork. Once finished he slipped on his shoes and moved over into a waiting wheelchair.

  Quinn was the best tech guy the department had. Archie was a close second. Once he knew what he was supposed to do after being asked, they would need to look at other ways to search for the information they needed.

  But first they needed to find Tito and the others without Wexell spotting them.

  ****

  “Where are you?”

  Tito read the text on his phone. He gave their room number but didn’t warn about Wexell. He hoped that wasn’t a mistake. The Chief didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move from his room or to use the phone.

  He’d called Blake but nothing more.

  The conversation had been one-sided, but it was enough to know that Blake had agreed to help him discover Linda’s identity. That wasn’t sitting well with any of them.

  The door opened. Quinn entered with a white bandage around his head. A lady that Tito had never met was at this side shouldering him up. Ericka was next, followed by Greg, and lastly Blake.

  Holden was on his feet with his fists up and ready. “Put’em up.”

  Blake blinked. “What?”

  “Put up your dukes. We’re going to fight to the death. Or a close second.”

  Blake pointed at Holden as he looked around the room at the others. “What is he talking about?”

  Tito stepped between them. “He’s mad because you’re about to throw Linda under the bus. Yes, we heard that conversation.”

  Greg and Ericka’s heads shifted back and forth between the two of them like two bobble head dolls.

  “I did not throw Linda under the bus.”

  “It sounds like you were about to.” Burle rose to his full height and crossed his arms over his chest. The guy was a beast when he wanted to be.

  Greg finally stepped forward. “Now wait a minute. We are going to call Archie and pretend to look into Linda. We have Monica warning him because we fear the office might be bugged. But Blake has to look like he’s cooperating.”

  “Have you found out more information?”

  Greg and everyone in his group looked at the strange lady. “I’d like everyone to meet Fanny Lorin. She’s Chopin’s sister.”

  There was a collective sigh.

  “Hi.” Fanny’s face flushed bright red.

  “Tell us.”

  Tito listened as Greg explained his theory. He seemed to think the twin was mainly responsible and that the chief was just a helper, but Tito had his doubts.

  After a little research with Archie, which now he realized might have been a mistake, they found that Don Wexell was nowhere near the jump site when Chopin died. He was in another country on assignment. There were documented photos, so they knew it was true.

  Why no one wanted Wexell to be the culprit was an oddity to him. Wexell was as human and flawed as the next person.

  Holden lowered his arms and relaxed his stance.

  The sound of a phone ringing made them all jump. Holden grabbed the headphones but put the call from the other room on speaker.

  “Yup.” Pause. “You don’t say. I figured that Blake Hager was in on it. Thank you for the update.”

  The phone hung up.

  “Did you call Archie yet?”

  “No.”

  “So, then the only person who could have known was… Monica.” Greg said the word with a breathy sigh.

  “You mean she’s been working for Wexell?” Tito shook his head.

  “She was on probation, remember?” Quinn added.

  “This is why he has been two steps ahead the entire time.”

  The accusations continued to fly. Tito put his fingers to his lips and whistled. They all stopped.

  “How do we know that it wasn’t the delivery guy? You said that you sent flowers and a card. Maybe someone from the lobby looked at the card.”

  “This is true. We don’t know that it was Monica.” Greg helped with her defense, which was a little surprising.

  “Let’s just work the case from here and no longer contact the office. As of right now we’re off the grid.”

  Tito didn’t like it, but what choice did they have?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ericka stretched her arms above her head. The sofa wasn’t uncomfortable, it just wasn’t very long.

  Voices in the background had plagued her rest most of the night. But she’d forced herself to sleep anyway. Now she heard the group plotting strategy. She would have risen and helped, but she didn’t know what it would matter.

  “I think we should confront him.”

  “I think we should follow him.”

  “I think we should tap his phone.”

  “I think we should find his brother and follow him.”

  It all sounded the same, so it didn’t matter who was saying it. She put the pillow over her head and tried to snuff out the noises.

  After she’d found the bones, she just wanted the family to know what had happened to their son. Now they knew. His sister knew that he was gone. She’d achieved her goal. Now she and the team that should have been back in New York were working on another case.

  This one was personal for them. Their director could be a murderer. Yes, they needed to know. But Ericka wanted to pursue her father. The last thing that she’d heard was that he was with his wife and then without warning he disappeared. WITSEC had never heard another thing from him.

  Ericka had a feeling that he knew how to survive without government help. She secretly hoped that he would seek her out. If he would just come to her, she would forgive him. She just wanted to know what happened. What happened to him and her mother? What happened with her mother? Any information would be helpful.

  The voices grew louder.

  The pillow was no longer effective.

  She rose and walked to the table in the room. She drew in a deep breath then slapped her hands on the table creating a loud popping sound. All eyes turned toward her.

  “This is what we’re going to do.”

  She laid out the plan. Each person had a position. Not all were happy with their roles, but they agreed.

  Breakfast arrived. As soon as it was over the game would begin.

  ****

  Ron woke up from a deep sleep. There was a knock on his door. He grabbed a robe from the back of a chair and slipped it on his shoulders. He used the peephole.

  When he saw who waited he cocked his brows. Then he shook his head and opened the door. Whoever this strumpet was that kept coming back for more of him sure was pretty. He didn’t mind. He didn’t have to tell her anything, he could just enjoy her company, no matter what his brother thought.

  “Mr. Wexell, I got your order.”

  “My order?”

  “For another massage.”

  “I didn’t order a massage.”

  “Oh.” She looked down at a paper then handed it over to him to look at. “That is your signature, right?”

  “Um…” He squinted at the lettering. “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, shoot. I was looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “You were?”

  “Of course. I had so much fun talking to you yesterday.” She paused and sucked on her lower lip. He couldn’t pull his eyes away. “Oh, you will never guess who I saw yesterday.”

  “Probably not.”

  “Do you want to know?”

  “Sure.” He was enjoying her little game almost as much as he was enjoying looking at her.

  “I saw Chopin!” She jumped up and down with excitement.

  He choked. “What?”

  She pulled out her phone. “See, I got a picture.”

  He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the grainy photo. The fact was that it could be Chopin, if he didn’t know that Chopin was dead. “Are you sure you saw him?”

  She looked at the photo then thrust it back in his face. “Of course, I did. He’s right there in the photo. See?”

  “Remember how we discussed that he’d disappeared about fifteen years ago and no one has seen him.”

  “I know. What are the odds?” She shrugged and blew a bubble with a wad of pink gum that she was chewing. “But he was there. He was at the water fountain.”

  “When?”

  “When I came through this morning.”

  Wexell gulped. “Um, I think I should reschedule that massage. Can you just go to your next client?”

  Linda shrugged. “If you insist.”

  The door closed and he ran to the window and looked down into the courtyard. He was too far up to see much, but he did see a man sitting at the fountain wearing a red cap. A large canvas bag was at this side. It was the same man from the photo on Linda’s phone.

  He threw on his clothes as fast as possible and raced out the door and into the elevator. He tapped his foot. “What is taking this thing so long?”

  Once in the lobby he ignored the weird looks as he raced outside into the bright sunshine. The man at the water fountain was beginning to walk away. Wexell followed him.

  The man got into a cab. Wexell got into the cab behind his. “Follow that cab.”

  “Sir? Do you have money?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you’re not wearing pants.”

  “I’m not…”

  He looked down at his exposed legs and groaned. “Look, I’ll pay you when we get back here, I’ll pay you double. Just follow that cab.”

  The cabbie complied and they weaved in and out of every street in the city. The little jaunt was going to cost him a fortune, but he had to know if it was true.

  When the car stopped it was outside the police station. The man climbed from the car with the canvas bag over his shoulder and walked inside.

  Wexell gulped. He couldn’t go into the station without pants.

  He lifted his phone to his ear. “I need you to go to my hotel and get me some pants and money and meet me at the police station.”

  “What for? Did you get arrested? Now that would be funny.”

  “No, Don, I did not get arrested.”

  “Why aren’t you wearing pants?”

  “It’s a long story but bring me some pants. I can’t leave the station.”

  “Whatever.”

  The phone line went dead. Wexell didn’t know if his brother would bring the pants or not. He waited. Thirty, forty, fifty minutes passed. Then his brother pulled up in his luxury car. Don Wexell handed the pay to the cabbie and Ron got into Don’s car.

  “What is this about?”

  “Chopin.”

  “Chopin? Have you lost your mind? You can’t say his name around me. I’m a sitting councilman.”

  “I know that, and I’m the Chief of a police unit in New York.”

  Don looked out the window. “What about Chopin?”

  “He’s in there.”

  Don laughed. He stopped. Then he laughed some more.

  “I’m not joking. I saw him go in. He had a large canvas bag.”

  Don stopped laughing. “A canvas bag of what?”

  “I don’t know. It looked full.”

  “Ron, you need to stop this. You know as well as I do that Chopin can’t be in the police station.”

  “We need to go find out.”

  “Ron, if you’re losing it, we can go back to the facility but there is no way that Issac Larin is in that police station. We watched him die.

  The blood rolled right out of him. We took the papers and burned them not ten feet from the body. He is not in there.”

  Ron ran his hand through his hair and looked back and forth between his brother and the police station. His eyes were foggy. His head felt addled. “I-I think I need to go to the hospital.”

  Don pulled from the lot and took him to the hospital that was close by. Ron was wheeled into a room and placed on a gurney.

  He couldn’t remember the passing of time. He saw the entire scene of how they’d killed Chopin. Over and over, it floated through his mind.

  He babbled, but he didn’t know what he was saying. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t sure.

  He felt sick to his stomach. He leaned over the bed and lost his lunch. When he looked up through a window, he saw his brother being escorted away in handcuffs.

  What was going on?

  ****

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Councilman Don Wexell continued to deny what was so clearly heard on the tape.

  “Your brother taped you. The only way to help yourself is to give him up.” Greg played the part of bad detective perfectly.

  They didn’t have a tape. They’d tried. Linda was supposed to slip it into Ron’s pocket, but he’d refused the massage. The tiny amount of hallucinogen on the paper with Ron’s signature had sent him into a spiral. It’d helped Tito look like Chopin. And Burle like a cab driver.

  Now they just had to get Don to fess up.

  Ericka had a feeling it wouldn’t take long.

  Blake had arrested him at the hospital and escorted Don Wexell back to the police station. The local police had been more than willing to assist once they realized they would get all the credit when everything went well.

  “You want me to turn on my brother? I can’t do that.”