He punched off. “The SAC just arrived, and guess what? Little rich boy here got himself a hotshot lawyer, Rafael Jordan. They’re coming up together. How’d you manage that?”
Rebel felt hope; Ethan had come through. He remained silent.
Morales said, “So the sheriff did know a lawyer here in town. Imagine, Rafael Jordan. That’s some elevated legal company your small-town sheriff keeps.”
Briggs gave Rebel a disgusted look. “Hard to believe he knows a big kahuna like Jordan. Not a problem with all his brother’s money, right? Hey, Tip, I guess you don’t get to toss this boy into a holding cell. He gets the royal treatment instead—the conference room.”
Tip gave a rheumy laugh. “I’ll live in hope, Lou,” and went back to his crossword.
Briggs grabbed Rebel’s arm. “Let’s go, Navarro.”
The special agent in charge was here already? The top dog? And his lawyer was a hotshot? Rebel wondered yet again what the FBI thought showed his guilt when they didn’t have anything a couple of days ago.
Briggs marched Rebel through another door into a large room with low-walled cubicles, hardly manned on Friday evening, with only a few agents scattered around in it speaking on their cell phones and typing on their laptops. Offices lined two walls, and another held huge TV screens. Only one of them was turned on, showing real-time surveillance outside what looked like an abandoned warehouse. Rebel thought he’d hate sitting all day in one of those cubicles in that big soulless room.
There was a pause in the big room as one by one the agents looked at him, the perp with his hands zip-tied behind his back.One agent in his shirtsleeves said to another agent near him, loud enough so Rebel could hear him, “That’s Rebel Navarro. I wonder if they’ll let him write his novels in jail?”
Morales and Briggs walked Rebel into a good-sized conference room painted a flat institutional green, with no-nonsense industrial blinds drawn down over a single large window. It held a long table with twelve chairs around it. There were more TV screens on two walls, and one was mirrored, probably two-way. Rebel had imagined dismal, airless rooms like this one. He’d written some gruesome scenes in them. How was it possible his life could change so abruptly that he was actually about to be questioned in one?
Briggs shoved him into a surprisingly comfortable chair. “Your big-bucks lawyer won’t help you, Navarro. You’re so guilty I can smell it on you.”
A man’s deep voice, smooth as glass, came from the doorway. “Remove the zip ties now, Agent, if you please.”
Briggs hesitated until an older woman stepped into the room behind the man. It was his SAC, Claire Gregson. She said in a cool, crisp voice with a hint of the spurs, “Agent Briggs, remove the zip ties, please.”
Briggs cut them off.
Gregson introduced herself to Rebel and said, “Agent Morales, Agent Briggs, thank you for bringing Mr. Navarro to Philadelphia. You may leave now. Go home and enjoy what’s left of your Friday night. I’ll call you if you’re needed. Mr. Navarro, I’ll give you a few minutes to get acquainted with Mr. Jordan and confer with him.” She followed Briggs and Morales out of the conference room.
Rebel rubbed his hands together to get the feeling back. He slowly stood and faced his attorney. Rafael Jordon looked to be in his late thirties, about Ethan’s age. He was tall, on the thin side, his onyx-black hair cut close to his scalp, his skin polished ebony. The pale gray pinstripe suit he wore shouted bespoke,no doubt there. What really struck Rebel were his eyes—dark, nearly black behind his dark-rimmed glasses, and sharp with intelligence. He seemed completely relaxed, a man in charge of his world.
Rafael Jordan stuck out his hand. “Ethan called me, told me you were so innocent it was embarrassing. He said he had no idea what the FBI could possibly think they’d discovered since their visit to your house in Titusville Wednesday. He told me everything he knew, which wasn’t much, from his point of view. I doubt the two agents told you much either. Now, please tell me you didn’t answer any of their questions on your long drive here?”
Rebel said, “No, Ethan told me not to say a word. Let me say, Mr. Jordan, I’m innocent. So is my brother.”
Rebel saw Jordan was assessing him, as Rebel had assessed him. What did his newly minted lawyer see? A man who looked to be at the end of his tether, which he indeed was? Did every one of his clients claim they were innocent? Rebel didn’t really want to know.
Jordan said, “I’ve had a couple of hours to review what’s been made public about the Navarro Investment Fund investigation. Unless you tell me otherwise, I will assume you know no more about it than that. You have the right, of course, to refuse to answer any of their questions tonight even with me present. However, if you decide to answer a question, if I raise my hand, you shut up immediately. All right?”
“Yes, I understand, and I will. I know you don’t know me from Adam, you have no idea if I’m a saint or a sinner, but let me say it again. I’ve done nothing wrong. I want to get this over with, get home to my nephew, Tash, if I can, like I promised. But I can’t imagine not answering questions. I have zero to hide.”
“Very well, but again, I’m here if any of their questions are inappropriate or put you in jeopardy.”
Gregson opened the door again, looked from one to the other. “Would you like more time?”
Rebel shook his head. “No, we’re ready. I told your agents when they first came to my house on Wednesday what I knew. I have no reason not to tell you again, the whole story as I know it, if that is what you wish.”
Jordan narrowed his eyes. “Agent Gregson, may I see the arrest warrant?”
She pulled it from a file of papers she was carrying and handed it to him.
Rebel said, “May I have a glass of water?” What he really wanted was a dram of Glenfiddich.
“Certainly.” Gregson rose, walked to the credenza along the wall and opened a door showing a small cooler. She pulled out a bottle of water. “Mr. Jordan, would you like something?”
“No, thank you. Maybe later.”
She said something about the warm weather to Rafael Jordan as she handed him a plastic bottle of water. Then she sat across from the two of them.
