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Candlelight glinted off the cut glass, making the amber liquid inside sparkle mysteriously. Momentarily forgotten, the tumbler sat on a plain, mission-style coffee table, basking in the warmth of several candles while shadows engulfed the room beyond the table. The single occupant was absorbed in another world, his eyes closed, seated unmoving in lotus pose on the floor beside the table. His breathing was slow and steady, his body comfortably settled into the meditation. Images began to flicker through his mind behind his eyelids, almost like slides from an old projector. First they were fuzzy, as if there was interference with a faint signal. Then, slowly, they became sharper and more precise. His breathing slowed even more as the he carefully studied the first images.
The meditator saw the man walking towards him slowly, his dark hair cut short to his head and the gold chain hanging heavily around his neck. It was the man from the file. Angelo. In his mind’s eye, his hand reached out and grabbed the chain, twisting it sharply to bring Angelo close to him. His hands grasped his head on either side and twisted sharply, the snap of the neck clear in his ears.
No.
Just as quickly as the motion ended, that image was discarded.
The next image emerged. Angelo again. This time he was standing on a pier, waiting.
No.
The image changed again. Angelo was kneeling now, kneeling in front of him, facing forward. The Sig Sauer, with a silencer attached, appeared behind his head. The river flowed beneath them.
Yes.
That was acceptable. It was clean and had no possibility of any stray DNA inadvertently ending up somewhere that could be inconvenient.
That image was discarded and the next image emerged. This time it was another man, another face. He was getting into an older model Cadillac, some suitcases loaded into the trunk. The image paused there, the meditator considering it carefully for a moment before continuing. The Cadillac began to drive. The streets in the image changed rapidly until there was a train crossing. The image paused again and was studied. Residential houses were on one side of the tracks and businesses on the other. There was no other crossing for about a mile.
After another moment, the image was complete.
Cold, emotionless eyes opened slowly and the man on the floor exhaled softly. He stared thoughtfully at the candlelight, his mind still miles away at a train crossing.
Yes.
The word whispered through his mind and he reached out his long arm to the glass of amber liquid waiting on the table. He sipped the smooth bourbon in satisfaction.
Yes, that would do nicely.
New Jersey is the armpit of America. Not only is that its geographical claim to fame, but it is also a very good description of the quality of life in New Jersey. It is an over-crowded, smelly, and notoriously famous pocket of land that alternates from smog-laden industrial areas, to suburban niches, to pine barren wasteland, to rolling farmland. While it does produce the best blueberries and tomatoes in the country, it also produces the most toxic water known to man. And in exchange for very convenient proximity to cities, mountains, and shores, New Jersey also has the highest cost of living in the Union. With this state of give and take, it's no wonder that most New Jersey residents live their lives prosaically and with the same universal attitude; whatever it is, go ahead and throw it at 'em. They will take it standing up and eat their pork roll sandwich too. This is because Jersey inhabitants are a special breed. They are survivors who have undergone carcinogen poisoning, high blood pressure, heart attacks, scrapple, and the mob. They can go just about anywhere and survive. But no matter where they end up, displaced Jersians never really get away from their roots. Jersey is like yellow mustard: once it gets under your nails, it won’t come out. Not until it's good and ready.
This realization was foremost in her mind as Alina drove over the Ben Franklin Bridge, crossing from Philadelphia into Camden, one of three major entry ports to South Jersey. She hadn’t been back home for over ten years. The bridge was the same. Rutgers was still there, below her on the right, on the water front in Camden. In fact, even the toll booths were the same, right down to the dingy kinda-blue-but-not-really-seafoam-green worn paint. The distinct smell of the Delaware River blew through the open windows and Alina wrinkled her nose. After living in the mountains for two years, she didn’t think the stench of pollution would ever go unnoticed again. It was, however, strangely familiar.
The cell phone chirped from the seat next to her, pulling Alina’s attention away from her first sight of home ground.
“Yes?”
“I just left the house. The keys are under the flower pot on the left side of the garage,” a male voice said. “Everything is ready for you, just the way you requested. As I said before, take your time and let me know. I’m willing to make you a fair offer.”
“Thank you.” Alina switched lanes to the left and headed onto the boulevard. “I’ll let you know what I decide.”
“I’ll be in touch to let you know how to reach me once I’m settled.”
“No need. I’ll find you.”
Alina disconnected the call and dropped the phone onto the seat beside her. There was rustle from the back seat and she glanced back at Raven. He was re-adjusting himself on the perch inside a massive metal cage.
“Almost there, Raven. Just hang on another hour.”
She turned her attention back to the road and merged onto Route 70, heading east. The landmarks were so familiar, and yet so foreign that she was somewhat discomposed. The drivers were the same though, and Alina switched lanes almost unconsciously, pressing the gas pedal down.
New Yorkers like to say that they can drive anywhere, but not everyone can drive in New York. Alina wasn't so sure about New York, but she knew it was true for New Jersey. The speed limit is a suggestion only and the left lane is just another lane, not a passing lane. Having driven in many different countries since leaving Jersey, Alina had to admit now that most were not quite as aggressive as this small state. The reason was simple: people in New Jersey just didn’t have time for manners or road etiquette. They had somewhere to be and that was that.
Alina tapped the brakes as a Honda Civic cut in front of her and she automatically switched lanes to avoid it. She shook her head almost imperceptibly. Not only had she been dragged back into civilization, but she had been dragged back to Jersey, of all places. The one place in the world that she truly had no desire to ever set foot in again, and yet here she was, speeding down Route 70 on her way to a house buried in the outer pine barrens of Medford.
It was truly ridiculous.
When she left ten years ago, it had been with the intention of never returning. She joined the military and departed to start a new life. It began in shadows, and continued in the dark and murky alleys of the military underworld. By the time she got out of the Navy and started working with the government, Alina had changed. She laughed a lot less and she watched a lot more. Her life before the military had become a distant memory, dreamlike in its quality, and she had all but forgotten Jersey and all the humor and carefree nonsense that life entailed. Now, driving on streets that had once been a part of her, Alina felt a strange and overwhelming sense of déjà vu. Trained to react to her instincts, she found the feeling unsettling. With a sigh, she silently reminded herself that it was only temporary and continued on towards Medford.
Angela Bolan stepped into her dark living room and flipped on the light. She closed the door behind her, dropping her purse and keys on the table inside the door. A bell jingled down the stairs, heralding the arrival of her roommate, and she smiled tiredly as she bent down to stroke the orange tabby cat rubbing around her legs.
“Hello girlfriend,” she murmured. “How was your day?” The cat purred in response and then stretched. Angela chuckled. “That exciting, huh?”
She moved through the living room and into the kitchen, flipping on lights as she went. The red message light on her answering machine was blinking when she reached the kitchen, and she punched the button as she turned to the refrigerator. Angela nearly dropped the can of soda she was pulling from the fridge when she heard a voice she hadn’t heard in ten years.
“Angela, it's Alina. I’m in town for a bit and thought we could catch up. I’ll try again later.”
The message switched off and Angela rushed to the phone to check the caller id. The number was blocked.
She stared at the phone in amazement. She had exchanged a handful of emails over the years with Alina, the last one being about a year ago. Alina never mentioned coming back to Jersey, nor had she ever given a clear idea of what she was doing with her life. For all intents and purposes, she had dropped off the face of the earth ten years ago.
Angela listened to the message again, then walked into the living room to drop down onto the couch, completely flabbergasted. Alina was back? In Jersey?
She got up and grabbed her cell phone out of her purse. If she was back, she must have contacted Stephanie as well. Before she had a chance to dial, her phone started playing Jimmy Buffet. Stephanie was calling.
“You will never guess who I just talked to!” Stephanie yelled into her ear.
“Alina.”
Angela plopped back onto the couch and sat back as her cat jumped onto her lap, absently stroking her hand down its back.
“She called you too?” Stephanie demanded.
“She left a message on my machine. I just got it,” Angela said.
“She called me at the office. Caught me just as I was leaving. She’s back in town for a while and wants to get together with us for dinner.”
“What's she doing back?”
“She didn’t really say...and I was too shocked to ask!” Stephanie laughed. “Do you have plans tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow is fine,” Angela replied. “Even if I had plans, I would break them.”
“Tell me about it. It's not every day your friend reappears from nowhere. I’ll call her back and let her know you're in. I can’t wait to see her!”
“Me too.”
Angela hung up and shook her head. She was still stunned.
None of them ever thought they would see Alina again. Both Angela and Stephanie had received regular emails from her for the first year, then the emails became less and less frequent before tapering off to one every other year or so. Enough to let everyone know that everyone was still alive, but not much else.
Angela smiled slowly. She’d always believed Alina would come back. Stephanie had laughed at her and told her that their friend had moved on and was long gone, but Angela had known.
She stood up and turned to go upstairs and get changed.
She had known Jersey would call Alina back.
Alina turned off the road onto a long dirt driveway lined with trees. The house was set three acres back from the road, hidden from view by thick woods and underbrush. The drive curved to the right and wound its way through the trees before finally breaking into the clearing where a modestly-sized, two-story modern structure sat in the wilderness. Alina scanned the area surrounding the house and was satisfied with what she saw. The dirt drive turned into gravel here, providing a little more curbside appeal. The immediate border around the house was clear of all obstructions, giving an unimpeded view from any of the windows and doors on the first floor. The lawn was flat and landscaped with flowers, but void of bushes or shrubs that would conceal a person. Lush, thick grass saved the yard from a stark appearance, however, and a bird bath perched waist high on a thin wrought iron pedestal in the center of the front lawn added a touch of whimsy.
The driveway curved in front of the house before continuing on and splitting in two. One half stretched along the side of the house to the back, while the other half turned back towards the road. Alina followed the left side and rolled along the side of the house to the back where a two car garage was set to the right and away from the house.
Alina rolled to a stop and shut off the engine, glancing back at Raven. He lifted his head from his shoulder, where his beak had been buried, and pinned her with his black eyes. She smiled.
“We’re here. You can go find your dinner now.”
She got out of the SUV and walked around to the back door. Opening it, she angled the large cage sideways so that she could unlatch the metal door. Raven straightened his legs slowly and Alina opened the door, stepping back. With an abrupt whoosh, he launched out of the cage, spreading his black wings majestically and floating up to land on the roof of the garage. Alina tilted her head back in the waning daylight and looked up at him. He was surveying his new territory slowly, his hawk eyes darting over the area.
Alina turned back to the SUV, pressing the button on the key fob to pop open the back hatch. She pulled out two large duffel bags and walked across the drive to the backyard. A large deck stretched the length of the house, sitting three steps up from the ground. She stepped onto the smooth wood and walked across to the sliding door. Dropping the bags on the deck, she turned to look over the backyard.
As in the front, the visibility was fantastic until the line of trees began. Alina mentally picked out where she could set security cameras and watched as Raven lifted into the air and disappeared into the trees. He was off to find his dinner, and she knew he would return when he was full. She didn’t worry about him getting lost; he had followed her out of the compound and down the mountain easily enough. She’d tried to leave him in South America, in his home, but Raven had other ideas. He had even gone into the cage readily enough, accepting that it was the only way to travel with her.
Alina turned and walked around the house to the front door, her eyes moving constantly over the trees. The air smelled fresher out here, not as thick with fumes and dirt as it had coming over the bridge from Philadelphia. She really had forgotten how badly New Jersey smelled. It was like sticking your head in an exhaust pipe, turning the car on, taking a deep breath, and then plunging your head into a garbage can.
She unlocked the front door and stepped into the house, closing the door quietly behind her. Alina stood for a moment, taking in the silence and the feel of the house. She was standing in a very small entryway with a tiled floor that gave way to hardwood in the rest of the front of the house. To her left was a wide doorway leading into what looked like a den, and to her right was a sitting room. A staircase going upstairs was in front and to the right, and a hallway ran to the back of the house along the side of the staircase. Alina noted that she could see the back sliding doors from the front door and smiled. The open plan appealed to her sense of security. She liked this house more and more.
Alina went down the hallway and emerged into a large common room that was a living room on the right and a dining room on the left. The back of the house was carpeted from the end of the hallway and, clearly, this was where the family “living” was meant to take place. The sliding doors to the deck separated the dining room from the living room and Alina moved into the dining room. A picture window looked over the deck and there was a walnut table with four chairs around it and two more in the corners, suggesting a leaf could be added to the table. To her left a granite topped bar, capable of seating about four people, separated a large kitchen from the dining room.
Alina stepped into the kitchen, looking around. The floor was light gray and white stone and the counters were the same black granite as the bar. The Viking stove was stainless steel, as was the large refrigerator. In the center of the kitchen sat a granite topped island with a stainless steel pot rack above it. Alina looked at it for a moment, then moved over to it and reached up to lift the 6 quart sauté pan down. She placed it perfectly in the center of the island and stepped back to watch as the entire island moved silently and smoothly to the left, revealing a stone stairwell.
“Bravo, Marcus, bravo,” she murmured.
The stairwell opening was exactly 2 feet by 4 feet, just wide enough to step through, and Alina descended into the hidden basement. The first room at the bottom of the stairs was lined with counters topped with security monitors, servers, and equipment, none of it connected yet. At the end of the room was another door leading to a larger and more spacious room lined with cages holding a variety of weapons. There were a few empty spots and all the cages were locked. Alina smiled slightly when she stood in the center of the room and looked directly up to find a set of keys taped to the ceiling, right next to a sprinkler head.
“Well that's original, at any rate,” she chuckled.
Alina went back upstairs and grabbed her duffel bags from the deck, moving back to the front of the house to go upstairs, content that the most important section of her temporary command center was exactly as she had requested.
Stephanie Walker stepped into the restaurant and looked around. It was a busy Friday night and waitstaff were rushing around between tables. A packed capacity crowd battled with the music piped in from hidden speakers overhead, vying to be heard over each other. The hostess smiled at Stephanie and she nodded back.
“I’m meeting two friends here,” she said, still scanning the busy restaurant. The hostess came out from behind her podium and looked around.
“What do they look like?”
She glanced at the very thin, early twenties hostess. The thought crossed her mind that she would be shocked if the girl remembered anything, let alone two women that she had probably seated close to half an hour ago, and Stephanie immediately felt a twinge of guilt.
“One is about my height, with light brown hair, and she is probably wearing a suit. The other one has almost black hair, or she did the last time I saw her, and is a little taller than me.”
“They came in about half an hour ago.” The hostess swiveled on her high-heeled slides. “I seated them in the back,” she added over her shoulder.
Stephanie followed with a raised eyebrow. This woman was a rare gem in the restaurant industry. She followed her through the crowded and noisy bar until they reached the back. Two women were seated on opposite ends of a round table in a half booth on the back wall. One was, indeed, wearing a suit and had her Blackberry in hand, typing away. The other still had dark brown hair that appeared black in some lights.
Her hair was longer than it had been ten years ago, brushing her shoulders in a thick, straight wave. She was dressed in black pants and a red shirt that draped over her shoulders. Stephanie paused for just a second, taking in the straight spine and squared shoulders. There was something about her old friend that made her pause; a radiating sense of power that made her look twice. Alina turned her head suddenly and Stephanie encountered dark brown eyes that were as familiar as they were strange. Stephanie pushed the sudden feeling of awkwardness aside and smiled at her.
“Alina!” she exclaimed, stepping up to the table. Alina stood up and accepted a big hug.
“Hi Steph,” she smiled fondly at her. “It’s been a long time.”
“Too long.” Stephanie slid into the booth next to Angela and set her purse on the seat next to her. “Hi Ang.”
“How are you?” Angela scooted to the middle of the booth as Alina resumed her seat with her back to the wall.
“Exhausted.” Stephanie tossed her hair out of her face and reached for the closest glass of water. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got held up at work. Did I miss anything?”
“We waited to order until you got here,” Alina said, lifting her hand and motioning slightly. Stephanie stared, shocked, when a waiter materialized. She glanced at Angela, who shrugged and grinned. “Are you drinking?” Alina asked, pulling her attention away from the phenomenon of an attentive waiter.
“Absolutely. I’ll have a Cosmopolitan.” Steph looked at the other two glasses. “And bring another round for them,” she added, noting that Angela’s martini was almost empty and Alina’s glass was half empty. The waiter nodded and disappeared. “What are you drinking?” Stephanie demanded, leaning forward and looking at her glass. “Vodka?”
“Water,” Alina answered.
Stephanie stared at her.
“Water?!” she repeated, and Angela laughed.
“I told you she’s changed,” she said. “Apparently, she doesn’t drink anymore.”
“I drink occasionally,” Alina retorted, “but a clean body makes a clean mind.”
“Oh Lord.” Stephanie sat back and groaned. “You probably eat organic vegetables too, don’t you? Where were you? California?”
“I’ve been a lot of places,” Alina answered with a grin. “And yes, I do eat organic vegetables.”
“I think the Philly cheesesteak idea is dead,” Angela said in a stage whisper to Stephanie.
Alina laughed.
“I will still have a cheesesteak,” she said. “It wouldn’t be right to come home and not have one. But only from Pat’s. None of that Geno's nonsense!”
They fell silent as the waiter returned with the drinks and pulled out his pad to take their order. Cheeseburger and fries for Angela, Chicken Alfredo for Stephanie, and grilled chicken breast and steamed vegetables for Alina. Once the waiter had left, Stephanie looked at Alina and shook her head.
“Well, for what it's worth, you look fantastic,” she commented. “Obviously the clean living agrees with you.”
Alina smiled.
“Thank you,” she sat back and regarded Stephanie. “So, Angela filled me in on her stellar banking career. How about you? She said you got a promotion at work.”
“Well, I don’t know how much of a good thing that is.” Stephanie sipped her drink. “The upside is I get more money. The downside is that I work all the time.” She glanced at Angela. “Did you tell her yet?”
Angela shook her head.
“Nope.”
“Oh.” Stephanie swallowed and cleared her throat. “Well, I have a partner now.” She glanced up from her drink to Alina to find her watching her with those strangely detached dark eyes. “You know him.”
Alina tipped her head to one side and raised an eyebrow.
“Let me guess,” she said. “John.” Stephanie drank half her martini before nodding. Alina watched her for a beat and then sighed. “I heard he joined the FBI.”
“He’s a good detective,” Stephanie said. “He’s turned into a good guy. I almost never smack him now.”
“Thing is, Alina, he knows you’re back,” Angela said, leaning forward. “There was really no way of hiding it from him.”
Alina smiled slightly.
“John is part of my past. Don’t worry.”
“I’m not. I just wanted you to be prepared in case you run into him. So, tell me what the hell you’ve been doing with yourself for ten years.”
“Well, I’m a consultant now,” Alina said evasively. “When I got out of the military, I did some work with the government, then took a sabbatical. And now I’m back.”
Stephanie blinked and stared at her.
“Ok then. Ten years in three sentences. That works.”
She paused as the waiter reappeared with their food and set the plates out. When he was finished, a slight nod from Alina sent him on his way.
“Ok. Two things.” Stephanie picked up her fork and prepared to dig into the creamy pasta on her plate. “One, do you plan on sticking around this time around? And two, what spell did you put on the waiter and can you teach it to me?”
“It's not just the waiter,” Angela said, picking up her knife and cutting her huge cheeseburger in half. “It’s also the hostess. Everyone seems to be afraid of Alina.”
“I have to admit that if I didn’t know her, I would be a little intimidated.” Alina raised an eyebrow and Stephanie pointed her fork at her. “You, my friend, look like you are dangerous. That is the only way to describe it.”
Alina laughed, but the laugh didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I’m just trying to eat my dinner and get used to Jersey again!” she protested. “You guys realize it smells here, right? I don’t remember it smelling when I left.”
“That’s because you didn’t notice it when you lived here,” Angela explained. “We don’t notice it either. Give it a few days and all that healthy pollution will clog up your nose and you won’t smell a thing. Can you pass the ketchup?”
“So is that a no to number one?” Stephanie demanded. “You’re not going to stay because of the smell?!”
“Let’s just say that I'm trying Jersey out to see if we still like each other,” Alina replied, handing Angela the ketchup. “No promises.”
“Oh, come on.” Stephanie laughed. “What's there not to love about Jersey? We have the shore, we have Philly...or New York, if you’re a traitor...we have Herr's chips. Hell, we have Tastykakes!”
“And don’t forget the nuclear waste and polluted water,” Angela interjected before taking a huge bite of her burger.
“Well, yeah...but that just makes us a stronger species,” Stephanie retorted with a laugh.
“You have Snooki,” Alina pointed out dryly.
“That would be one of the results of the nuclear waste and polluted water,” Angela mumbled, her mouth full, and Alina grinned reluctantly.
“So, are you allowed to talk about work?” Alina asked Stephanie, changing the subject.
“Somewhat. What do you want to know?”
“What made you late?” Alina asked, cutting into her chicken breast.
“Oh, that. A floater popped up in the Delaware, near the bridge in Riverton.”
Stephanie finished her martini and watched as Alina lifted her hand again. The waiter reappeared and took the two empty martini glasses, disappearing with the promise of two more. Stephanie and Angela looked at each other, and then at Alina, who was eating her dinner, oblivious to them. When Stephanie didn’t continue right away, she looked up and raised her eyebrow. Stephanie hurriedly cleared her throat and went back to her pasta. A smile twitched at the corner of Alina’s mouth.
“Anyway, the floater was identified as Angelo Cordeiro, a drug lord,” Stephanie continued. “He also dabbled in guns and information, which is why he was on our agenda. When he floated up, I won the pool.”
“Lucky you,” Angela murmured.
“So the Bureau has taken over the investigation?” Alina asked, finishing off her vegetables and sitting back with her glass of water.
“Yes.” Stephanie grimaced. “Well, with some assistance. Another agency has also been brought in.”
Alina was silent as the waiter came back with the two drinks. Once he disappeared again, she looked at Stephanie.
“What other agency?”
Stephanie shrugged.
“That’s as much as I can tell you,” she said. “And, actually, I don’t know much more than that myself. Angelo must have strayed into much larger waters and pissed off some mighty scary people. But enough about work. Where are you staying?”
“A friend has a house in Medford that I’m renting,” Alina answered, dropping the topic of Angelo. “He wants to sell it. I’ll see how I like it.”
“What’s in Medford?” Stephanie demanded.
“Peace and quiet.”
She looked horrified.
“What on earth do you want with that?!”
Alina smiled and sipped her water.
“Come on. How often are we going to get the chance to do this?” Stephanie demanded. “Angela and I are lucky if we see each other once a month anymore, and I haven’t seen you in ten friggin’ years.”
Alina stood in the parking lot of the restaurant while they tried to convince her to go out for drinks.
“She’s right,” Angela agreed. “Just come for a few drinks and then leave. It’s still early.”
Alina glanced at her watch. It was seven-thirty.
“I’m not one for the bar scene anymore,” she remarked.
Stephanie scoffed.
“It’s a Fed bar. Not exactly the epicenter of single meet and greets.”
Alina was silent. That was the point. She had no desire to go into a bar filled with Feds and lawyers.
“One hour. Give us one more hour,” Angela coaxed, digging for her keys in her Gucci bag.
Alina sighed inaudibly and nodded.
“One hour,” she agreed. “I’ll follow you.”
She turned on her heel and walked towards a sleek black car a few feet away.
“Whoa! What’s that?” Stephanie followed her.
Alina glanced at her.
“They call this a car,” she replied dryly.
Stephanie snorted inelegantly and walked up to it, peeking into the passenger’s window.
“This is not just any car,” she retorted. “It’s a Camaro.”
“It’s a guy-car,” Angela muttered behind them and Alina suppressed a grin.
Angela was one hundred percent Jersey girl. She wouldn’t dream of leaving the house without make-up, she lived in high-heels, and her nails and hair were always perfect. Her opinion of nature could be summed up in one word: outdoors. And that’s where she didn’t spend a lot of time. Unless it involved the beach, Angela had no time for nature. When they were younger, Alina had often wondered why they were such great friends. As she got older, she realized that, although Angela was very much a girly-girl, she had a temper and mind like a man. That’s where they were the same.
“It’s gorgeous,” Stephanie stated, stepping back and admiring the car. “Just what exactly do you do again?” she demanded.
Alina laughed.
“I’m a consultant,” she answered. “Don’t worry. It’s not stolen.”
“I’m not grand theft,” Stephanie retorted. “And if you think I’m not riding with you in this, you’re crazy.”
She moved back to the passenger door and stood there expectantly. Alina glanced at Angela.
“I’ll drive my own car, thanks,” she said. “You can follow me.”
Alina nodded and unlocked the car for Stephanie to get in. She went around to get in the driver side and watched as Angela walked to her car. When she reached her silver BMW, Alina started the car. The engine came to life with a roar and Stephanie sighed.
“It's not fair,” she said. “I would love to drive something like this. Instead, I have a Maxima.”
Alina laughed and eased forward as Angela pulled out of her parking spot.
“So buy a new car,” she retorted.
“Eventually, I will,” Stephanie said. “Right now, I’m just too focused on work.”
“So what's the story with this Angelo character?”
“We’re not really sure yet. He was hit professionally with a double tap to the back of the head and then chucked into the river with a cement block. There was storm a few days ago and the current must have pulled him loose. Forensics is working on it.”
“And this other agency?” Alina asked.
“It's just that. Another agency.” Stephanie frowned. “I don’t mind working with other departments, but I’m not even being told what department it is! I was just told that the guy will be here Monday morning to help with the investigation. I’ll tell you what, I’m starting to appreciate how local law enforcement feels about Feds now.” Alina was silent and Stephanie glanced at her. “I just told you way too much, so I am trusting you to keep it to yourself.”
“Of course.”
“And, I still want to know what kind of consulting you do,” she added.
Alina smiled and was silent.
