Page 44 of Smoke Screen
Another red light and panic set in, shooting from her brain, swarming her body like a thousand tiny stabs.Stabstabstabstab.
“Try again,” Phin said.
Swipe.Once again, instead of the ka-chunk of the lock disengaging, all Maddy received was a red light.
Dammit. Of all the times for her key card to crap out on her.
She spun to Phin. “Front door.”
Leading her off the brick path, Phin led her across the grass, where her pumps sunk into the soil, one of them sticking. Her foot came clear out of her shoe and one of the male reporters snatched it, held it up like a prized win.
Oh, come on!
“Seriously,” she said. “You’re evil enough to hold my shoe hostage?”
Beside her, Phin took one step toward the guy and she whipped her arm out. “Don’t bother.”
The last thing they needed was the episode making the evening news.
Maddy kicked off her other shoe and made a note of the network’s logo on the man’s microphone. “Keep 'em both. Even if I intended on commenting, I wouldn’t now. And you just took your network off the list of possible exclusives. Great work.”
Phin laughed. “Nice.”
He grasped her arm, leading her to the front where, just as they cornered the building, another hungry pack waited.
“They’re like locusts.”
“You’re okay,” Phin said. “Let’s get you inside and I’ll go back for your shoes.”
She spewed another round of no-comments and did her best to square her shoulders and lift her chin. Almost there.
At the circular door, Phin waved her in, making sure no one followed before entering himself.
The evening guard, Maurice, stood just inside the circular door, his eyes wide. “Maddy. Lord, child, I’m sorry about this. I’ve been trying to chase them off. They’re spooking the visitors.” He looked down at her bare feet. “Where are your shoes?”
Maddy kept moving, glancing back to see cameramen lined up along the front windows filming her. Unbelievable. “They’re outside. It’s not your fault, Maurice.”
One reporter banged on the glass, and Maurice headed straight for the door. “That’s it. Let me deal with them and I’ll be right back.”
“While you’re upstairs,” Phin told her, “I’m going after your shoes.”
“Forget it. They’re not that expensive.”
“It’s not the point. That was a crummy move. I want those shoes back.”
Men. Funny creatures. “Suit yourself. I’ll meet you back here.”
Phin nodded and took off after Maurice, throwing himself back into the flock of vultures.
She rode the escalator to the administrative floor, where she once again swiped her key card. Nothing.
A not-so-nice thought peppered her. One door was a fluke.
Two?
That meant a problem with her card. Something that had never happened prior to being interviewed by the FBI.
Somehow that didn’t seem a coincidence.
