CHAPTER 22
C HAPTER 22
R ae stopped at her favorite sandwich shop for lunch. The line was out the door, but one of the counter staff recognized her and brought out her regular to-go—sun-dried tomato and mozzarella with spouts and whole-grain mustard on sourdough, and fresh-brewed green tea. Only today she wasn’t in any hurry, so she slipped into an empty chair under the window’s awning. She wasn’t considering next steps with John, not really. Questions rose and faded unanswered. This vacant hour was given over to accepting what Amiya had said was real.
Safe.
The tragic script of a potential wrong move, the solemn warning, had been written on Amiya’s lovely features. Rae sensed a driving need to be brutally honest with herself. At long last.
Rae made a mental list of all the questions and doubts she had previously done her best to ignore. She took the related issues as far as she could, then rose and started toward her office. She didn’t have answers. Not really. But taking aim at a decision, recognizing that this was a problem she had to face, left her feeling almost calm.
Then she turned the final corner, and her day took on a drastically different course. One tight glance was enough for everything to snap into frantic clarity.
She jerked back out of sight, took out her phone, and hit the speed dial for Dana Bowen’s personal cell.
The Raleigh attorney answered on the fifth ring, long enough of a delay for Rae’s heart to approach redline. “Ninety seconds.”
“I think the DEA is waiting in my office.”
Dana might as well have confronted federal agents on the hunt every day before breakfast, she was that cool. “Tell me.”
“Two black Tahoes parked outside my office door, a lady in a dark suit standing on the sidewalk.”
“Definitely Feds. Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. My number two will take over here long enough for me to serve as your attorney of record.”
“Thank. You. So. Much.”
“I’ll shoot you a Zoom connection. If this is for real, text me, then Zoom connect. Don’t say a word except to identify yourself until I’m on-screen.”
“Dana, I can’t tell you—”
But the woman was gone.
* * *
As Rae approached, the woman on sentry lifted her wrist and spoke softly. She then stepped back and silently watched Rae enter the building.
Her office was on the second floor. There was a cranky elevator tucked down the service corridor behind the clothing shop. Rae had never used it. She climbed the stairs and found two agents planted on either side of her door.
“Rae Alden?”
“That is correct.”
“Candice Styles, DEA. My associate is Carter Rice.”
The man said, “How about we do this inside? Assuming your office has a/c. I’m baking out here.”
She drew out her phone and texted Dana a single word: Go.
Rae unlocked her door and ushered them inside. She waved them into seats, then entered her private office and returned with her laptop.
Her outer office was a windowless chamber twice the size of her own room, and held an oval cherrywood table she’d found in a garage sale. Rae’s part-time assistant was off today, which meant there was no need for them to switch offices.
As she waited for her laptop to boot up, Rae inspected the agents. It was strange to consider them a matched pair, since the woman was Black and the man some mélange of Latino and Anglo. Yet, as she coded in the Zoom connect, that was how Rae thought of them. DEA clones. Same agate-hard gazes, poorly fitting and rumpled dark suits, both already carrying the scent of hard days—at one in the afternoon.
The woman started, “You know why we’re here. We want everything you have on Landon Barrett.”
Rae shifted her chair so she was seated on the same side of the table as the agents. She positioned the laptop so the agents were the focus. And waited.
The woman continued, “It would go better for you in the long run if you didn’t force us to go for a warrant. Which we will.”
Soon as Dana appeared, Rae said, “Allow me to introduce Dana Bowen, my attorney. These are Agents Styles and Rice, DEA.”
“Have they shown you their IDs?”
“No.”
“Which is a breach of ethics, and possibly the law,” Dana said.
The agents moved in robotic slowness, presenting the leather wallets first to Rae and then the screen.
Dana demanded, “Why are you here?”
Rae replied, “They want all of my Barrett files.”
“We know that is not happening. Rae, shift the camera slightly to the left. Good. You, male agent. Stop trying to slide out of my sight. Now, then. The director of Homeland for the Carolinas is a close personal friend. I know full well he would never countenance agents to appear unannounced and demand access to confidential client files. ”
“We have full authority—”
“I’m not done. This stinks of high-handed Washington tactics. Let me guess. Some ambitious junior deputy assumed you could traipse into a young, small-town attorney’s office and bully her into releasing confidential client files. ”
Silence.
“Please assure your Deputy Director Tyrant this is not happening. Is that clear, or should I ask the regional Homeland director to call and emphasize to your superior how you are all breaking the law. ”
Neither agent responded. Their only movement was for Rice, the male agent, to slide his chair a fraction farther out of range.
“Please tell me this is not just some federal fishing expedition. That you actually have evidence of this individual’s wrongdoing.”
“A lot.” The woman responded without unclenching her jaw.
The man added, “Two and a half years’ worth.”
“Sir, if you are going to speak one word, you are going to move your chair back where I can see you.” Once he complied, Dana asked, “What is the target of your investigation?”
The two agents exchanged a silent communication. The woman replied, “Money laundering.”
Dana huffed. “Which probably means this is actually tied to some larger investigation. Correct?”
“No comment.” This from Styles.
“So, what you’re really after here is a link tying this attorney’s client to a bigger fish. Isn’t that the real reason why your superior ordered you to travel down here and break the law. ” When neither agent responded, Dana snapped, “I’m waiting.”
Both agents remained silent.
Rae broke the stalemate. “All I’ve done for this client is purchase a property. And now sell it.”
Both agents jerked in their seats. Styles demanded, “It’s sold?”
“The contract was finalized in my presence,” Dana confirmed.
Rice said, “We need to report in.”
“What an excellent idea,” Dana said.
Styles asked, “Who is the buyer?”
“Sorry,” Dana replied. “You are welcome to that information once it becomes part of public record. Until then, these tactics of yours have earned you absolutely nothing. This meeting is now concluded.”
“It is perfectly within our right—”
“Good day, Agent Styles.”
Rae remained seated and mute as the two agents rose and departed. She could almost see the trail of smoke and cinders left in their wake.
Soon as the door closed behind them, Dana said, “You need to warn that young man. Your buyer.”
“Curtis Gage.”
“And his superiors. Inform Gage I’m fairly certain they’ll be coming after him next.”
The screen went blank.