"Sit down, Agent Reynolds," Massey said firmly.
Reynolds sat. She wasn't guilty of anything, so why did she feel like Charlie Manson with a bloody knife in his sock?
"We have some things to discuss with you." He glanced at the Bureau lawyer. "I have to advise you, however, that you have the right to have counsel present, if you so wish."
She tried to act surprised, but couldn't really, not after the phone call from Joyce Bennett. Her forced reaction certainly increased her guilt in their eyes, she felt sure. She wondered about the timing of that phone call from Bennett. Not a big believer in conspiracies, Reynolds suddenly began to reconsider that stance.
"And why would I need counsel?"
Massey eyed Fisher, who turned to Reynolds. "We received a phone call from the attorney representing your husband in the divorce."
"I see. Well, I just received a call from my attorney, and I can assure you I'm as much in the dark as anyone else about how that money got into those accounts."
"Really?" Massey looked at her skeptically. "So you're saying it's a mistake that someone very recently dumped a hundred thousand dollars into accounts under your children's names, monies which are solely controlled by you?"
"I'm saying I don't know what to think. But I will find out, I can assure you."
"The timing, as you can understand, has us deeply troubled," Massey said.
"Not as troubled as me. It's my reputation at stake."
"Actually, it's the reputation of the Bureau we're concerned about," Fisher bluntly pointed out.
Reynolds gave him a cold stare and then looked back at Massey. "I don't know what's going on. Feel free to investigate; I've got nothing to hide."
Massey glanced down at a file in front of him. "Are you quite certain of that?"
Reynolds looked at the file. This was a classic interrogation technique. She had used it herself. Bluff the subject by suggesting you had incriminating evidence that would catch him in a lie and hope he'd cave. The only thing was, she didn't know if Massey was really bluffing or not. She suddenly knew what it was like to be on the other side of the interrogation. It wasn't fun.
"Am I quite certain of what?" she said, buying time.
"That you have nothing to hide?"
"I really resent that question, sir."
He tapped the file with his index finger. "You know what has deeply distressed me about Ken Newman's death? The fact that on the night he was murdered, he had taken your place. At your instruction. But for that order, he would be alive today. Would you?"
Reynolds's face turned red and she stood, towering over Massey. "Are you accusing me of being involved in Ken's murder?"
"Please sit down, Agent Reynolds."
"Are you?"
"I'm saying the coincidence, if it is one, has me concerned."
"It was a coincidence, since I didn't happen to know there was someone waiting there to kill him. If you recall, I showed up almost in time to stop it."
"Almost in time. That was convenient. Almost like a built-in alibi. A coincidence, or perfect timing? Perhaps too perfect timing?" Massey's gaze burned into her.
"I was working another case and finished sooner than I thought I would. Howard Constantinople can corroborate that."
"Oh, we plan to talk to Connie. You and he are friends, aren't you?"
"We're professional colleagues."
"I'm sure he wouldn't want to say anything that would implicate you in any way."
"I'm sure he'll tell you the truth if you just ask him."
"So you're saying there is no connection between Ken Newman's murder and the money showing up in your account?"
"Let me put it a little more strongly than that. I'm saying it's all bullshit! If I were guilty, why would I have anyone put a hundred grand into one of my accounts so close to the time Ken was killed? Don't you think that's a little obvious?"
"But it wasn't really your account, was it? It was in your children's names. And according to your personnel records, you're not due for a Bureau five-year check for another two years. I rather doubt the money would be in the account at that time, and by then I'm sure you'd have a good answer in case anyone did discover that money had once been there. The point is, if your husband's attorney hadn't dug it up, no one would know. That hardly qualifies as obvious."
"Okay, if it's not a mistake, then someone is setting me up."
"And who exactly would be doing that?"
"The person who killed Ken, and who tried to kill Faith Lockhart. Maybe he's afraid I'm getting too close."
"So Danny Buchanan is trying to set you up, is that what you're saying?"
Reynolds glanced at the Bureau lawyer and the representative from OPR. "Do they have clearance to hear this?"
"Your investigation has taken a backseat to these more recent charges," Fisher said.
Reynolds glared at him with rising anger. "Charges! They're unsubstantiated garbage."
Massey opened the file. "So are you saying that your private investigation into Ken Newman's finances is garbage?"
On this Reynolds froze and then abruptly sat down. She pressed sweaty palms against the table and tried to get her emotions under control. Her temper was not doing her any good. She was playing right into their hands. Indeed, Fisher and Massey exchanged what she saw as pleased glances at her obvious distress.
"We talked to Anne Newman. She told us everything you've done," Fisher said. "I can't even begin to tell you how many Bureau rules you've broken."
"I was trying to protect Ken and his family."
"Oh, please!" Fisher exclaimed.
"It's true! I was going to go to OPR, but not until after the funeral."
"That was so very considerate of you," Fisher said sarcastically.
"Why don't you go to hell, Paul."
"Agent Reynolds, keep a civil tongue in your head," Massey commanded.
Reynolds sat back and rubbed her forehead. "May I ask how you found out about what I was doing? Did Anne Newman come to you?"
"If you don't mind, we'll ask the questions." Massey leaned forward and made a pyramid with his fingers. "What exactly did you find in the safe-deposit box?"
"Cash. A lot. Thousands."
"And Newman's financial records?"
"A lot of unexplained income."
"We've also talked to the bank branch you visited. You told them not to allow access to the box to anyone except yourself. And you told Anne Newman not to tell anyone about it, not even anyone at the Bureau."
"I didn't want anybody getting to that money. It was material evidence. And I told Anne to keep quiet until I had a chance to dig further. It was for her own protection, until I found out who was behind it."
"Or did you want the time to get the money for yourself? With Ken dead and Anne Newman apparently not even aware her husband had the safe-deposit box, you would be the only one who knew the money was there." Massey stared directly at her; his tiny eyes resembled twin bullets coming for her.
Fisher piped in: "It's curious that when Newman dies you access a box with thousands of dollars in it that he had under a fake name, and about the same time, accounts controlled by you fill up with a hundred thousand dollars."
"If you're somehow trying to say I had Ken killed because of the money in the box, you're way off base. Anne called and asked for my help. I never knew Ken had a safe-deposit box until she told me about it. I had no idea what was in the box until after Ken was already dead."
"So you say," Fisher said.
"So I know," Reynolds replied hotly. She looked at Massey. "Am I being formally charged with anything?"