by Carsen Taite
Sarah bristled at the idea Ellery could be involved in a terrorist plot, especially one designed to kill citizens in her own community. She had a choice to make. She could continue to let Trip believe she knew who Ellery was from local news reports or she could come clean and admit she’d actually met Ellery and had at least started to have a personal relationship with her. If she wanted the information she’d called him for, she knew she had to tell him the truth. “I know her.”
“Who? Durant?”
“Yes. We had coffee Monday. I was supposed to see her tonight. I might still see her if she’s not scared to come out in public after the witch hunt this morning.”
“I don’t want to tell you your business, but seeing her is not a good idea.”
“Are you willing to tell me why? And are you willing to tell me why BAU is working on a terrorism case?”
“The director asked us to provide an assessment of the suspects.”
“And Ellery’s a suspect? What’s your analysis of her?”
“Slow down, kiddo. All I know is what I’ve been told. She’s listed on the IRS Form 1023 as the attorney who structured the WHI and there’s a power of attorney attached, giving her authorization to make financial decisions for the organization. WHI has a wonky financial relationship with Sadeem Jafari’s foundation, the Global Enterprise Alliance. Appears they dip into each other’s accounts on a regular basis. HSI has traced funds from an offshore account held by GEA to an Al Qaeda training camp in Libya. Of course, it’s not a direct line. The money bounced around before it got to Libya, but the working theory is that years of experience working with criminals gave Durant the perfect knowledge base to advise Khan and Jafari as to exactly what they needed to do to try to hide the money trail.”
“And the other names on your list?”
“Not sure what their involvement is yet. Michael and Brian Barstow are local boys. They started volunteering at WHI a year ago and now they go by Hashid and Abdul Kamal. Their Internet postings have gotten increasingly radical, but they’ve made no direct threats. They were both arrested with Amir’s son, Naveed, late last year, for breaking into an office building, but the case is still pending and so far we haven’t been able to relate it to anything to do with the bombing.”
“I can believe WHI might be supporting terrorism in general, but is there really evidence to tie them to the bombing?”
“CIA and HSI say they are close to being able to make arrests.”
Sarah sank into a chair and put her head in her hands. She’d worked with Trip for years and trusted him completely. He wouldn’t be passing along these accusations if he didn’t have solid evidence to back them up, but she’d sat across from Ellery, looked her in the eyes, and hadn’t detected a single signal of deception despite her years of training in behavioral analysis. Either Ellery was wrongly accused or she was such a cold-blooded criminal that she could fool even the best.
“Trip, I hear what you’re saying, but I just can’t believe it. I was with her the night of the bombing. We were only a couple of blocks away when it happened, and I’ve seen her since. She was as shocked as anyone by what happened.”
“She was a couple of blocks away, huh? Sarah, listen to what you’re saying.” He paused. “Maybe you should see her tonight. Now that you know what you do, you might be in a better position to assess whether she was duped into helping Khan and his associates, whether she’s in it for money, or whether she really supports their cause.” He started talking faster, as he warmed to the idea. “In fact, that’s a great idea. She may not lawyer up before charges are filed. If you can get close, we’ll be a step ahead of the game.”
“What does that even mean? You want me to develop some personal relationship with her to get her to fess up to helping terrorists? And you’re crazy if you think she won’t be represented. She comes from a family of lawyers.”
“You’d be surprised. Sometimes lawyers are the worst about thinking they can handle things on their own. Besides, you don’t have to talk to her about the case. Observations only. I just want your impression, now that you’re looking at her as something besides a potential lay.”
“Watch it, Trip. Not cool.”
“I’ve seen her picture and I know you well.”
“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think. I moved out here for a change. I haven’t had a single one-night stand since I got here.” She considered her next words carefully. “I like her. I like her a lot.”
“Then check her out a bit more closely.”
“How do you suggest I do that? After the searches this morning, she’s all over the news. Mason would have my hide for even being in the same room as Ellery.”
“I’ll clear it with the director. You’ll be working with me as part of the behavioral analysis he wants so badly. It’s a win-win. If you’re going to change your ways for a woman, you should at least find out everything you can about her first. Right?”
She couldn’t deny his logic. And without agency sanction, it would tank her career to be around Ellery with all the dirt swirling around her. This way she’d get the opportunity to hang out with Ellery and make her own decision about whether she was a person capable of helping terrorists or a person with the kind of honor and integrity she was looking for. The only harm would be if Ellery figured out she had an ulterior motive, but in exchange for the opportunity to get close to her, she was willing to take that chance.
*
Ellery looked up from her phone and told the cab driver to pull over at the end of the street. A quick glance up the road confirmed that federal agents were still hard at work sifting through her personal life. They’d already done plenty of damage, judging by the few phone calls she’d just made. On the drive over she’d called her credit card company, asking about the charge at the hotel. They’d confirmed that they’d declined the charges and that her account was suspended, but they insisted she’d have to wait until she received written notification to find out why. A quick check of her other available cards resulted in the same story. She’d counseled enough clients through the deep and violating intervention of federal seizure to realize what was happening to her now, but there was no way she could have ever prepared for the personal reality. All she could do now was find out why. She counted out the cab fare and handed it over, pocketing her last five dollars.
A few neighbors were out observing the action and she nodded to them as she passed by, but didn’t engage with their curious expressions. She liked this older neighborhood for its combination of hospitality and privacy. People looked out for each other, but didn’t meddle in each other’s private business. Except for Leo Jacobs, the elderly vet who lived next door. As always, he was on his porch and he called out as she approached. She knew he’d have questions, and not wanting everyone to hear their conversation, she walked up the front steps so they could talk away from the action. He sat in his ancient rocking chair and the table next to him held a platter full of sandwiches and a six-pack. Clearly, he anticipated a lengthy show.
“Looks like you’re in a bit of trouble, neighbor.”
His words were low and gravely. Ellery shook her head in disgust. “Looks like. Seen anything interesting?”
“They carried out a few boxes from your studio, but other than that, it looks like they’re mostly just digging around in there. Some fella drove up in your car. Didn’t look like a fed, but he walked up to the rest of them and started saying a bunch of stuff. I couldn’t make out a word. He followed them inside and I haven’t seen them since.”
“That would be my dad, Gordon Durant, esquire.”
“Guess you’ll save some pennies, having a lawyer in the family.”
Ellery started to remind him that she didn’t need a lawyer since she was one, but she decided not to bother. What she wanted to do was walk over and find out exactly what was going on. The only thing holding her back was not knowing if they had a warrant for her arrest. If they did, she wanted to turn herself in on her own time, especiall
y since other than what she’d heard on the radio, she didn’t know what the charges would be. If what the radio said was true, that they thought she was involved in a terrorist plot, there’d be little chance of being released on bond and she’d need time to prepare if she was going to be incarcerated. “Mind if I hang out here for a bit?”
Leo waved at the beer and sandwiches. “Help yourself.”
She nodded her thanks, but decided against putting food in her swirling stomach. She settled into a chair and pulled out her phone to text her father. Update?
Still at it.
You should talk to the next door neighbor, Leo. He’s always got some inside scoop.
A few minutes passed before he showed up on Leo’s porch. If he was surprised to see her, he didn’t let it show. He declined Leo’s offer of a sandwich, but popped the top on one of the beers and settled in like they were old friends. “I know my daughter well. If I ask her to stay put, she’ll do exactly the opposite. I should’ve bet on it.”
“Hey, Dad, I’m right here and I can hear every word. As much as I know you love to be right, I didn’t have much of a choice. The Melrose kicked me out, and it appears none of my credit cards are working. Your pals next door have any insights to offer about why this is happening?”
“Sure. They think you helped a local group fund a terrorist cell. I guess in addition to conducting these searches, they’ve also frozen your assets. Hope you kept some cash hidden somewhere.”
Ellery stood and started pacing the porch. She looked over at her house. Twenty-four hours ago, she’d had everything she ever wanted. Work she loved, a cozy house in a quiet neighborhood, and the promise of more—a successful show and the chance to see Sarah Flores again. Now all of that was at risk. The memory of Sarah triggered a thought. “Dad, is there more than one agency at the house?”
“Just HSI as far as I can tell. At least they’re the ones heading things up, but it’s likely something this big would have some interagency support.”
Like from the FBI. What division had Sarah said she worked for? Fraud. Doubtful her division was involved, but it was possible. She racked her brain to see if anything about their coffee date earlier in the week could be considered nefarious, but her only read was that Sarah had been genuinely interested in her personally, not as the target of an investigation. Whether that was hubris or not remained to be seen. She didn’t have Sarah’s number or she would’ve called and asked her directly. She did have another call she needed to make though, and she walked across the porch out of Leo and her father’s earshot.
Karen answered on the first ring. “If you’re trying to drum up publicity, you sure know what you’re doing.”
Ellery sighed with relief at the teasing, but friendly, tone. “If you think I’m getting a lot of press now, just wait until they carry me off to prison.”
“You have to wait until after the show. I’ve been getting calls all morning. Seriously, I had to tell the caterers to order more wine. I think we’re in for record crowds.”
“I called to tell you I completely understand if you want to pull my pieces from the show.”
“Not a chance. And you must be there, even if you have to bust out of jail to make it happen.”
“No way. The bombing was hugely personal to so many people. My being there would be a huge distraction.” Images of the wounded flashed in her mind. “It was personal to me too.”
“Exactly, and that’s precisely why you need to be there. You didn’t have anything to do with this, so don’t hole up and act like you have something to be ashamed of. Show up and embrace your new life.”
Ellery had no idea how much of Karen’s encouragement was aimed at making her feel more confident and how much was a mercenary means to sell out the show, but ultimately Karen was right. She didn’t have anything to hide. Whatever was going on was a huge mistake, and it would sort itself out, but it had nothing to do with her new life. She’d worked hard for the recognition she hoped to receive tonight, and if she let her former life eclipse her new opportunities, she may as well never have left the practice. She knew what she had to do.
“Make sure there’s lots of champagne. I’ll be there.”
Chapter Nine
Sarah pulled up to Danny and Ellen’s house and parked in the driveway. When she was ready to buy a house, she might like one like this—a Craftsman with a large, wraparound porch. The neighborhood was nice. Lots of trees, close to good restaurants and bars, within walking distance of several neighborhood grocery stores. Probably way out of her price range, but maybe she could find a place nearby that needed some fixing up.
Danny opened the door before she made it across the porch. “Come on in and grab a drink.” She rolled her eyes. “Ellen’s still getting ready.”
Sarah punched her in the arm. “Don’t act like you don’t like girls getting all dolled up on your account.”
“Well, I must admit, I do like it. Speaking of getting dolled up, look at you.”
Sarah felt the slow warmth of a blush rise through her skin. She’d changed outfits at least three times before settling on the flirty red cocktail dress with a daring side slit. She’d been told her legs were her best feature, and it would be stupid not to use them to her advantage. She feared her efforts would go to waste, though. If Ellery was even there tonight, she’d probably be too busy to give her the time of day, but if she had any chance of getting close, there was nothing like bare skin to do the trick. “Didn’t you promise me a drink?”
“Don’t you two dare start drinking without me.”
Sarah saw Danny’s wife, Ellen, walking toward her. They embraced, and Ellen gave her a long, appraising once over. “Don’t let Danny tease you. The last time she wore a dress was probably at her first communion. You look amazing.”
Danny nodded. “Mama gave up on me after I tore my dress playing touch football after the service. I couldn’t have been happier to retire that lacy contraption. Come on, drinks are in the kitchen.”
Sarah followed the couple through their living room into the spacious kitchen. “Wow, this is huge.”
Ellen laughed. “You should’ve seen it when we bought the place. It was the size of a large closet.”
“It was my have to have feature,” Danny said. “My entire childhood was spent in the kitchen. Meals, homework, family meetings—it was the most important room in the house.”
Sarah looked around. Everything about their place was foreign to a girl who’d grown up on navy bases. Her apartment in D.C. had looked more like a storage locker than a home. She’d hardly ever spent time there, and it seemed like a waste to decorate the place. She’d tried to make her new place in Dallas seem more homey, but so far all she’d managed were a few coordinated pieces the woman at the Pottery Barn down the street had convinced her were supposed to go together. As for her kitchen, she hoped the high-end appliances worked as well as they looked, but as long as she was within walking distance of dozens of good restaurants, she had no plans to find out anytime soon.
“So, what’s this show all about, anyway?” Sarah asked as Ellen handed her a glass of wine.
“Karen Tron is a big deal in the Dallas design community,” Ellen said. “She owns several showrooms in the Design District, and a few years ago she started a juried show to introduce new talent. You’ll see all kinds of work on display, from furniture, to knickknacks, to light fixtures, and wall paintings. Being selected for one of her shows is quite a coup, especially for someone like Ellery who doesn’t have a background in design. A lot of the other artists at the show have spent their entire lives making the rounds of the various shows, building an audience for their work.”
“Do you think she’ll show up tonight?” Danny asked.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Ellen said. “Probably better since you know her much better than I do.”
“I’m not sure I know her as well as you think. I mean, when she was in practice I saw her at the courthouse all the time. She’s a worthy adversary an
d I could always count on her to shoot straight with me, but I haven’t had a lot of social interaction with her. On that level, Sarah here probably knows her better than the both of us.”
Sarah almost choked on her wine as they both turned toward her. She’d been silently observing their conversation while she pondered her own observations. She started to say that she didn’t have a clue, but both of these women knew what she used to do for a living and neither was likely to buy her “hey, I’m just a paper pusher for the FBI” routine. She cleared her throat while she considered her response. “Really good sociopaths are naturally good at it. Their lies don’t always come with all the usual social cues because they don’t feel any shame about lying, so there’s no struggle between the message the body is delivering and what the mind knows to be true.”
“Are you saying even you can’t spot a sociopath?”
“Not at all. Even people with little regard for human life give signals, just not the ones you might be used to, although I’m sure you’ve developed a fair amount of people-reading skills in the courtroom.”
“So, what about Ellery? What does your Quantico-trained gut say?”
Sarah paused before she answered, assessing whether her conclusion was more about her feelings than any empirical findings. But Danny was right. Despite the science, it often came down to gut instinct. For now, she was going to go with her gut, but she would also hedge her bets.
“I think there’s a lot more to Ellery Durant than meets the eye, but I don’t think she knowingly did anything to support the group behind the bombing.” What she didn’t say was that Ellery might well have inadvertently helped a terrorist group, which might make a difference in the investigation against her, but could still have serious consequences. It was pretty unlikely that HSI would care to parse out which was which, and she’d only been tapped with the task of giving the director an assessment of Ellery as a person, not determining whether she should be charged and with what. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to dig a little deeper.
