Page 157 of Power
“Absolutely. Thank you again for your time.”
“Who are you interviewing with?”
Simone paused. “His name escapes me. Might be a Joe. Could be a Keith.”
“Well, if you take the position, let me know.” Nina walked her to the elevator.
“Thank you again, Nina.” The doors opened and Simone rode to the lobby.
She’s not guilty of anything. I’ve hit another dead end.
Exiting the elevator, she almost crashed into Jerod De Clerq.
“Red, what a surprise,” Jerod said as he moved away from foot traffic. “What are you doing here?”
“I was talking with Nina Roy,” she replied.
He furrowed his brow. “I don’t know her. Anyways, I was going to text you. My girlfriend, Becca, is coming into town this afternoon. I managed to get a res at Carole Jean’s in Tysons tonight. Am I the luckiest guy or what? They had a cancelation and I snagged it. I want you to join us. Tell me you’re free.”
Simone thought about the case and her lack of progress. She couldn’t afford to spend two hours meeting someone’s girlfriend.
“I’m sorry?—”
“Nope, wrong answer.” He shot her a smile. “Have you ever been to Carole Jean’s?”
“No, but I’ve heard?—”
“It’s Michelin-starred. Youhaveto go. I need you to meet her… you know, for selfish reasons. If you don’t like her, she’s out.”
Simone smiled. “No pressure there.”
“It’s kismet. She decided to fly down. I got a table at Carole Jean’s. I bump into you. C’mon, Red.”
“Fine, but?—”
“Perfect,” he said cutting her off. “Six-thirty.” He grinned. “Don’t be late.”
As she drove toward the restaurant for lunch with Peter, she thought about Nina Roy. She wasn’t in the country when Frederica and her team were killed, and Nina Roy didn’t appear to hold a grudge against ALPHA. She was forthright with information and had no obvious tells. As far as Simone was concerned, Nina Roy was not a person of interest.
Frustration had her white-knuckling the steering wheel. She had no viable leads, not a single suspect, and a dead man who was forced to make passports for terrorists who’d been marching into the country like ants through a pinhole at the kitchen window.
Her phone rang. It was Luciano.
“Hey,” she answered. “Missing me like crazy, huh?”
“You know I am,” he said. “Can you talk?”
“I’m in my car,” she said. “Peter invited me for lunch.”
“That oughta be interesting,” he replied. “Sin thinks he can put the squeeze on Chenkus’s boss’s boss, the exec at State. He set up a meeting today at one. Can you join us?”
It was twelve-fifty. “Not unless I cancel Peter.”
“Where are you meeting him?”
“The restaurant in Hotel Dillinger.”
“That’s Rebel’s hotel,” Luciano said. “Do you think he’s gonna make a move?—”
