Page 97 of Power
“Good question,” Carrera replied.
“How does he even know about ALPHA?” Slash asked.
“Another good question,” Carrera replied. “Maybe he’ll confide in you since you two were close.”
Elsa came downstairs. “I made a big pot of my homemade chicken soup.” Her smile crinkled her eyes. “For Simone.”
“Thank you, Elsa,” Simone replied, before eyeing Slash.
“Elsa, Simone has to go out—” Slash said.
“I’ll have a big bowl when I return,” Simone added. “I’m going to get ready. I don’t want to go, but I’ll see what I can find out.”
Whatever it takes, Fred. I will get to the truth.
At seven-fifteen that evening,Simone street parked at Peter Hirzog’s upscale estate in Chevy Chase. She collected the bottle of wine in a gift bag that Slash had given her and made her way toward the front door.
The crispness in the air reminded her that autumn had replaced the warm days of summer. She pulled her long, cable sweater close, climbed the front stairs, and rang the doorbell. She didn’t want to be there, so she’d see what she could learn, then bolt.
Peter answered the door. “You made it,” he said with a warm smile. “Come on in.”
“I almost canceled. It’s been a rough couple of days. I’m not sure if you heard?—”
He raised his eyebrows. “Heard?”
“Frederica Salgado died in a home gas explosion.” Her heart broke.
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry.” He enveloped her in a warm hug.
When she broke away, he asked if they’d stayed friends.
“We had.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “I lost touch with her when I left town. Is she still with the Bureau?”
“No.”
A middle-aged woman with shoulder-length hair and a friendly smile walked toward them. “You must be Simone. I’m Lucy, Peter’s wife.”
Simone offered her the gift bag. “Happy anniversary.”
“How thoughtful.” Lucy pulled out the bottle. “Oh, it’s a Santini Chianti. I’ll serve it with dinner.”
She glanced at Peter, but he didn’t seem fazed. Simone hadn’t checked the bottle Slash had given her. The last thing she wanted to do was tick him off.
“Come in and meet our guests,” Lucy said.
They made their way through the two-story foyer and into the spacious kitchen with dark cabinets and soft pendant lighting. The delightful aroma of spices filled the air. There were several people chatting in the kitchen, and Peter made introductions. Two from the Bureau whom Simone didn’t know, three neighbors, and two longtime friends of Lucy.
Jerodsauntered in, spotted her, and broke into a smile. “Hey, Red. It’s good to see you again.”
She forced a smile. “Hi, Jerod.”
I shouldn’t have come.
Being there made her head hurt. She wanted to feel the pain, the loss, the emptiness in her soul, not make small talk at some dinner party.
As if sensing her pain, Peter said, “Let’s move into the family room.”
