"Okay."
"So now they load your Call Frequency Report into the computer and ask it for a match, and it comes up with Ray James. In other words, Mr. James, who used to use this known phone"-Dan pointed to the chart on the left-"is now using your phone, because his old Call Frequency Chart matches the one for your phone, on the right."
"My God." Vicki's eyes widened. "So they know Ray James killed Reheema's mother!"
"Not yet."
"But they go and pick him up and question him about the murder, don't they?" Vicki was so tempted to call Reheema, but she couldn't. "Either he killed her or he knows who did!"
"Slow down. They don't do that yet. Why are you getting so excited?"
"But it was only days ago! It's most likely him! Ray James could be the guy with the gravelly voice, that we both talked to!"
"Vick." Dan smiled and held up a warning hand. "Settle down. You know better than that."
"I do?"
"Yes, you do. Think about it, calmly. All it means is that Ray James has the phone from somebody who might know that. Or that Ray James found the phone in a Dumpster or on the street. Or that he bought it from somebody who bought it from somebody else who found it on the street after the killer threw it there." Dan cocked his head, his blue eyes tired. "All we really know for sure is that Ray James has your cell phone."
"We can still ask the man, can't we?"
"Not consistent with that pesky Constitution, we can't. ATF can't, and they won't." Dan laughed. "This is way too soon to be sure, and they don't show their hand until they have the goods. You should know that they would need to show a judge at least a few months of calls to establish probable cause." Dan smiled. "So your phone is hard at work for the common good."
"So what will they do about Ray James?"
"Try to learn more about him, build their case, record his calls. Do it right."
"He has a record?"
"Ag assault, firearms, possession and distribution, the works. His record's in my briefcase; they gave us all copies. They'll follow up, it's just a question of time. You know how they investigate. Morty was the most methodical agent I knew."
Morty. Vicki tried to simmer down. "Ray James doesn't bring us any closer to Morty's killer."
"Not really, no."
"And he's on the back burner."
"For the time being. Then the heat will die down, but they won't forget about him. I won't let them." Dan began to gather his charts. "But we have been told to deal with Toys ‘R' Us, top priority. I put a press release together for Strauss. There's a conference at eleven tomorrow. Everybody's gonna be there, from the mayor on down." Dan put the charts into his briefcase. "Plus, I forgot, they do have the one other guy, a loose end. This guy who was with Browning. They said they'll track him down when they get the chance."
"What guy? The guy who got shot, that one? I thought he was killed."
"No, not that one, another one. Tall guy, walked out of the store with Browning. The FBI thinks he mighta helped set him up for the kill. They're lookin' for him everywhere."
Huh? "I didn't see him on TV."
"He's there, walking with Browning. They picked him up on the surveillance cameras at Toys ‘R' Us. He had some kinda cap on and they only got his back."
Oh no.
"Tall guy, black, that's it. He ran when the shooting started."
Reheema.
"And they're looking for a car that was waiting for him. They got a shot of it on the surveillance camera. He was working with another guy and he ran to him and the car when the shooting started."
That would be me. "Could they ID the other guy?"
"No. Short white guy. The FBI thinks this new gang is multiracial. Gives you hope, doesn't it?"
Eeek. "Did they get the make of car?"
"I think so, but no plate either." Dan slipped the charts into his briefcase, then straightened up with a smile. "No more work for today."
The FBI was looking for Reheema and her, cross-dressing.
"Do you know how nice it is to come home to you?" Dan reached for Vicki and pulled her into his arms, kissing her softly. "You made me very happy today, on what could have been the worst day of my life."
Aw. "Really?"
"Yes, I'm basically homeless, but you made me feel at home. I love you for that. And I cannot stop thinking about last night, which was epic." Dan looked over at the clock on the oven. "I figure we have half an hour before dinner. That's enough for a nap."
"But I'm not tired." And I have to go rent another car.
"What a coincidence." Dan kissed her softly. "Can I interest you?"
"You already have," Vicki answered, kissing him back, and she let him take her hand and lead them both out of the kitchen. She would force herself to have great sex with him, so he wouldn't be suspicious, and her orgasms would only lend realism to her ruse.
But she took one last look backward, filled with lust.
For his briefcase.
PART FOUR
Right is right, even if everyone is against it, and wrong is wrong, even if everyone is for it.
– WILLIAM PENN
Everybody, if you in the drug business, your object is to reach the top and do business with the connect. Nobody who's in the business stay at the bottom; not unless you's a fool. If you do something, you do it your fullest. So your object was to be like the Monopoly game. You start at Go and you want to go around and pass the board. So, that's what your object would be. To reach the top.
– JAMAL MORRIS, United States v. Williams, United States District Court, Eastern District of Pennsylvania, Criminal Docket No. 02-172, February 20, 2004, Notes of Testimony at 429
THIRTY-THREE
First thing the next morning, Vicki and Reheema picked out another new-to-you car, a nondescript beige Intrepid, vintage 2000, automatic transmission, 78,000 miles, which rented for a hundred a week. They parked the Sunbird in a garage, at thirty bucks a day, because they couldn't take the risk of turning it in, even though Vicki was worrying about her skyrocketing stakeout costs.
They parked the Intrepid down the street from the diner closest to their new favorite car dealership and settled into a table for breakfast. Only a few tradesmen were in the restaurant, which had wood-paneled walls, harsh fluorescent lights, and red Formica tables that were permanently greasy. They chose the restaurant for the TV, not the decor or the food, and they weren't wrong. The big-screen Panasonic was mounted on a plywood stand high in the corner, and the scrambled eggs arrived in a blue plastic basket.
Vicki sipped her coffee as Reheema read Bill Toner's police record. On TV, Live at 10 was running a special feature on the Toys "R" Us shooting, and the newspaper headlines this morning had been all about the bloodbath. The city had reacted emotionally, and Vicki knew the pain would only intensify as funerals for the children began. Morty's murder paled in newsworthiness and official attention.
Reheema looked up. Her eyes were bright and alert, her hair hidden by a new Eagles hat, and she wore a plain gray sweatshirt under her pea coat. If it bothered her to know the name of the man who had almost shot her to death, it didn't show. "You got these papers from your boyfriend?"
"Yes."
Reheema frowned. "You told him what we're doin'?"
Not exactly. "No, I went in his briefcase while he was asleep. I scanned the documents and printed them."
"Damn, girl!" Reheema's eyes lit up with admiration.
"Hey, I'm not proud of it." Vicki couldn't have taken the papers or Dan would have known. She'd also copied the HIDTA charts and record of Ray James, but she hadn't told Reheema about him yet. She wasn't sure when, how, or even if, she would. How do you tell someone that you may/may not have the name and address of her mother's murderer?