Page 98 of The Newcomer
Letty found herself remembering the last bit of footage she’d watched the night before. The video showed Tanya giddy with excitement in anticipation of the move. She found herself choking up as she described the video.
“They went to Old Navy. It was snowing outside. She bought Maya a bathing suit, because the house she was going to rent out there has a pool.…”
Vikki Hill nodded. “It’s okay. We get it. I’ll take a look at the videos on the thumb drive, and I’ll send the one with Rooney to the bureau’s tech guys. Maybe they can amplify the sound or something.”
She glanced over at Joe DeCurtis. “How the hell would Rooney know where to find Tanya? And how—and why—would he show up back down here, following Letty and Maya around?”
“I’m wondering the same thing,” Joe said.
“We can’t get sidetracked by that right now,” the FBI agent said. “There’s no evidence Rooney was anywhere near Tanya’s apartment that day.”
She pointed at Letty. “Wingfield wants you ‘disappeared’ as he put it. This weekend. I’ve got to show him proof that you’re dead. And then he wants me, personally, to deliver Maya back to him.”
Letty crossed her arms over her chest. “Over my dead body.”
“That’s the idea,” Vikki agreed. “As far as Wingfield knows.”
AgentHill placed her phone on the table and played the first phone conversation she’d recorded with Evan Wingfield.
Joe frowned when the conversation ended. “He doesn’t really commit to anything here. I’m not telling you how to do your job, but why cut him off, just as he’s starting to come around?”
“I needed to make him fish or cut bait,” Vikki said. “And sure enough, he did come around, not more than five minutes later.” She looked down at the phone again, and her face froze.
“Oh no. Tell me this did not happen.” She slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand and groaned. “Nooooooo.”
Joe and Letty waited, exchanging worried glances.
The FBI agent’s face reddened with embarrassment. “Jesus, what a rookie move! Right when Wingfield was calling back I got a text from you, Joe, and then the maid was knocking on the door and trying to leave towels, so I chased her away and got up to lock the door… and I was in such a hurry to pick up, I must have forgotten to push the friggin’ record button when he called back. There’s no excuse for this. And the worst thing is, when Wingfield called back, he actually did commit. He negotiated the price, agreed to fifty thousand and promised to wire a ten-thousand-dollar deposit to my bank account this afternoon. He explicitly said he wanted Letty ‘disappeared’ and said he wanted photographic proof that she was dead.”
Letty shuddered.
Vikki stood up and paced around the room. “I screwed up. That phone call directly ties him to the murder-for-hire plot. Now we got no proof. Jesus, what a fuckup!”
“Maybe not,” Joe said. “How did you leave it with him?”
“He was adamant that the job had to get done this weekend. I told him my guy needed more time, but he pushed back hard on that.”
DeCurtis nodded. “Can you check your bank account? To see if the money has landed?”
“Yeah.” The FBI agent picked up her phone again, scrolled through the apps on the screen, then tapped one. She studied it, then nodded, her expression hopeful.
“It’s here. Ten thousand. Wired fifteen minutes ago.”
Joe held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“I’m gonna call him and turn up the heat. And this time, I’ll record the conversation.”
“Screw you,” Vikki said, but she gave him the phone.
Wingfieldanswered after the first ring and Joe put the phone on speaker.
“You again? I don’t like all these calls. I thought we had a plan. You got the money, right? Just do your damn job now.”
“Hi, Evan. It’s not Vikki, it’s Vikki’s guy,” Joe said easily. “How ya doin’?”
“I’ve had better days. What’s your name, anyway?”
