Page 58 of So Sinister
Marsha and Travis laughed again and clapped him on the back.Hartford’s eyes rolled back in his head, and Larry swore and dropped to catch him before he could hit the ground.Turk gave him a reproachful look, and he said, “What?I was just teasing.”
He lowered Hartford to the ground and called the FBI agent.“Hey, Miss Bold?It’s done.We disarmed the bomb.”
“Oh, thank God!”she said.“And Hartford?”
Larry glanced at him.“Well, he’s unconscious right now, and he’s going to have a tough time living down how we found him, but he’s all right.”
“How you found him?What do you mean?”
Larry started to tell her, then stopped.“You know what?It’s not important.We’ll see you in a few.He looked at Turk.“By the way, your dog’s a badass.”
“Yes, he is,” she agreed.“Good work.All of you.”
Larry smiled, then hung up the phone.He looked down at Harford and sighed.“Okay.We need to cover you up.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The next morning…
Faith looked at the television hanging at one end of the café with a wry smile.On the television, a trembling James Hartford was conducting an impromptu press conference over the vehement objections of the TSA and his former employees, the Maryland Aviation Administration.A redheaded reporter was asking him a series of questions about the cover-up behind the Unibrow Bomber attack five years ago.Hartford was informing the press that yes, there was a cover-up, and yes, he was a part of it, and yes, the ability of the bomb to pass through security was at least partially the fault of malfunctioning equipment that Robert Stevenson reported as malfunctioning.They chose to ignore his reports for cost-cutting purposes.
The ensuing investigation would likely result in a loss of many jobs, not to mention some very costly and high-profile lawsuits.Hopefully, it would also result in a review of security policies for both organizations and lead to better standards in both organizations.
The door to the café opened, and the redheaded reporter in question gave Faith a dazzling smile.“Hey, hey!”she said, settling across the booth.“If it isn’t my favorite Special Agent!”
“Hello, Bridgette,” Faith said, returning her smile.“I was just watching the rerun of your finest hour.”
Bridgette scoffed and flipped her hand.“Oh please.That?That’s just Tuesday in Washington.”
“It’s Thursday, though.”
“Not the point, but that’s okay.You’re still cute.”She folded her hands on the table and gave Faith another sunny smile.“So.Shall we begin with our exclusive?”
“I gave you an exclusive,” Faith reminded her.“You interviewed me and Jessica last night.”
“Idid, but that was the exclusive on thecase.This is the first of what I imagine will be many days of exclusives regarding your wonderful, exciting, and incredibly marketable life.”
“Ah.”
Bridgette looked around.“Speaking of that, where are Turk and Jessica?”
“They’re still sleeping.I didn’t want to wake them.”
Bridgette raised an eyebrow.“It’s eight in the morning.”
“Is that late?”
“I assumed it was for FBI agents.I’musually out of bed by six.”
“That’s impressive.”
Bridgette flipped her hair.“Gotta do what we gotta do, right?”She smiled toothily and pulled out a recorder.“Okay, shall w—”
Faith reached over and took the recorder.Bridgette blinked, then laughed.Her voice had an edge to it when she said, “Faith, I can still make this hard for you.New evidence comes up all the time.I can find new evidence that proves that the near disaster at Ronald Reagan was a result of yours and Special Agent Torres’s mismanagement of the case, forcing you to pull a literal miracle out of your ass.I can make people consider whether—”
Faith lifted a hand.“I have no doubt that you could spin a wonderful tale that would keep people at the edge of their seats until their asses went numb.But you won’t.You won’t get your exclusive either.You also won’t bother Jessica or I on our cases ever again.You’ll be just like all the other vultures and feed on carrion instead of hunting for your meals.”
Bridgette stared at her, face frozen.“Oh?”
