Page 93 of The Secrets We Hide
“No idea, but when she gave me her badge back, she told me she’d found what she needed.” Barbara looked at her watch. “Let me know if y’all need anything else.”
“Thank you.” Emmy caught the door as Barbara left. She took a small evidence bag from her vest pocket. Allison’s keychain was inside. She slipped the dimple key into the lock. The bolt engaged.
Jude tried some of the skinny wooden drawers. “They’re all locked.”
Emmy found the barrel key on Allison’s key chain. She dragged a chair to the first column of cabinets and started at the top, trying the key in each of the cam locks as she worked her way down.
Jude tried to narrow the search, checking the labels on thedrawers. “We can rule out the county charter. All the current city planning documents would be online. So would deeds and titles. That leaves journals, newspapers and magazines.”
Emmy kept trying the locks. “Any Clifton County–specific magazines would be about automobile manufacturing, farming, or hunting. That leaves journals and newspapers.”
Jude stepped back as Emmy crossed to the cabinets at the other end.
The lock turned for the drawer markednewspapers. Emmy slid it open.
There were thousands of white cotton sleeves roughly the size of index cards. Each one held a single piece of film. Dividers kept them separate. Only one divider didn’t have any sleeves. Instead, there was a silver flip phone.
They both stared in disbelief.
“Jesus, Allison. What were you up to?” Emmy fished a glove out of her pocket. She opened the phone. Powered it up. She toggled through the memory. “There’s only one number. She called it four times.”
Jude put on her reading glasses. “Nine-two-oh is one of the area codes for Appleton, Wisconsin. There’s a tactical training facility just outside of town. I dated a guy at the ATF who taught there.”
“Allison was calling somebody at a tactical training facility?”
“No.” Jude was thinking of a detail from her conversation with Samuel Callaghan. “Dial the number.”
Emmy put the phone on speaker and rested it on the open drawer.
The phone rang four times before it was answered. The man on the other end of the line was probably in a full-on panic. “Hello? Who is this?”
Jude recognized the flat, midwestern accent of a fresh new agent who’d been born in Appleton, Wisconsin. “Special Agent Foley, this is Dr. Jude Archer. I’m glad we have this opportunity to talk.”
There was dead silence on the line.
“Hello?” Jude had to admit she had missed making a man squirm. “Special Agent Foley?”
“Uh—yes, ma’am. I’m—I’m sorry, but this number—”
“Belongs to the burner phone that Allison Vickery used to communicate with you.”
Emmy’s head swiveled around.
“Uh—wow.” Foley had the good sense to laugh at himself. “Assistant Director Callaghan warned me you’d get the upper hand, but I didn’t know it would happen like this.”
Jude smiled. He was smart to acknowledge it. “You’ve obviously been told about Allison and her daughter.”
“Yes, ma’am. I was very sorry to hear it.”
He was still so new to the bureau that his remorse seemed genuine. Allison had likely been his first assignment. That kind of failure hit on every level.
She asked, “How well did you know Allison?”
“We talked on the phone four times. Met in person twice.”
Jude needed a spreadsheet to track all of Samuel’s lies. “What was she like?”
Reid hesitated. He’d been expecting her to press him for details about the conversations. “I felt bad for her, if I’m being honest. She was terrified. Worried about her daughter. Concerned about their safety. Wanting to get away.”
