“Sorry, sir,” the field agent says. “The only thing the target was guilty of tonight is bad dancing.”
Steve doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even smile. He asked for two agents, but the LA field office was stretched thin and could only spare one. The event ended an hour ago, and he and Agent Myers, a middle-aged man innocuous as rain, are at a nearby Denny’s for the debriefing.
“You had eyes on him the whole time?”
“Except the first ten minutes,” Myers confirms.
The lapse wasn’t the agent’s fault. There was a magician at the event, and the show blocked the entry to the foyer. Steve doubts it’s relevant. Ingall was with the agent watching the magician perform, so he wasn’t in danger during that time.
“He looked like a guy at a party having a good time,” Myers says. “And his date was a hoot. And she knew how to dance. No crime there.”
Steve checks his reaction. Myers doesn’t know this is personal or that Janelle is someone Steve cares about.
“So he never got close to Ingall?”
“There were a few minutes when they were both outside together, but your man barely glanced at Ingall.”
Steve thanks the agent and Myers leaves.
Steve stays in the booth, sipping his coffee and looking out the window at the pitch-black sky as he tries to puzzle it out. Ingall is the target, and tonight was about something. What is Dick up to?