Page 38 of Smoke Screen
Ha. He’d have to tell Cruz that one.
Right now? Stuff to do. He glanced back, spotted Cilla holding Maddy’s arm, dragging her along.
“All right, guys,” Cilla said. “Relax. Ms. Carmichael has no comment. This was a casual conversation regarding the theft at the Thompson Center. Ms. Carmichael has made herself available to authorities and will help in any way possible. When we have something to share, I’ll let you know. Y’all have a great day now.”
The throng of press walked with them, still shouting questions and battling for position, trying to snag the magic shot.
Following Cilla’s lead, Maddy kept her head up, eyes straight ahead. She may have been spooked, but she’d aced this assignment.
Just feet ahead of them sat one of the BARS SUVs. A black one they kept in the garage for nighttime jobs.
He opened the front passenger door and Maddy hopped in while Cilla climbed into the back. The gaggle stood beside the vehicle shouting questions and filming even as Phin hustled around the car.
Seconds later, he started the car, filling it with Luke Bryan. Forgot to turn the radio down again. Music still pounding, he hit the gas and pulled from the curb while lowering the volume.
“Well,” Cilla said, “I think that went well.”
Phin glanced at Maddy. “Have I mentioned she’s nuts?”
Cilla barked out a laugh, and then her head appeared between the bucket seats. “Hey. I love my job. Phin, I’m parked in the garage on the corner. Maddy, don’t worry about this. When I get through with the feds, it’ll look like amateur hour. Just so we’re clear, you two can’t talk details about our meeting.”
That couldn’t be good.
He slid a sidelong gaze at Maddy, who angled back to face Cilla. “I have nothing to hide.”
“I know. But it’s for his protection as much as yours. If he hears anything, he can be called as a trial witness.”
Trial? What the fuck had happened in there?
“I’m going totrial?” Maddy shrieked.
“Whoa,” Phin said.
“Everyone stop talking. Right now. Maddy, I’d love to say you won’t go to trial. In good conscience, I can’t do that. I don’tthinkyou will. I’ll do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Maddy sat forward again, sucking in an audible breath, and Phin shot her a glance. He should say something. Anything.
But he knew his brother. And when Ash Blackwell got on a roll, he succeeded.
Nothing of which Maddy needed to know.
Phin made a few random turns, checking his rearview with each one before circling back to the parking garage and climbing to level three.
And …dang it.
“They’re here,” he said.
Cilla’s head popped through the seats again, her view of three reporters and their accompanying cameraman unimpeded.
“Shoot,” she said. “I know them. They must have gotten a tip that I was here and found my car. I need to start using another damned garage when visiting the FBI. Let’s drive past and make the turn. Let me off by the elevator and I’ll walk to my car. Maddy get down. They’ve probably seen you already, but it couldn’t hurt.”
A phone—Maddy’s—let out a series of rings and dings and various other sounds.
She ignored the phone while Cilla slid to the rear driver’s side door.
Phin cruised by the gaggle of reporters, all of them watching, their gazes sharp like the hunters they were. Once clear, he checked the rearview again.
“They’re on the move. Cilla, I’ll wait until you get into your car and follow you out.”
