“You could try but I’m guessing you’ll be dead long before you get a chance.” I pull the USB drive out and hold it up for her to see.
Gallo’s red face whitens. “What’s that?”
“Stuff from the desktop folder marked, important.”
“Give it here. You have no idea who you’re messing with.”
“Unfortunately, I do. And, because of my close affiliation with my dear Uncle Vinnie, I know what happens next. We leave and before you have time to call a lawyer, your second in command will show up. Maybe, if you’re lucky, the FBI will arrive before him. If not, you’ll probably end up going for a short swim in the Long Island Sound.”
Suds claps at my performance but I worry about the time and take a knife to release the surprised woman’s hands.
“FBI!” The door bangs open and about ten guys in uniform barge into the room, weapons drawn.
“Right on time.” Suds throws his hands up in the air reminding me I should, too.
“I’m Suds and this here is my partner, Sam. Over there, as you probably already know, is Mrs. Anne Gallo and she’s so damn contrite, she brought tears to our eyes.”
He winks at me while I bite down on my tongue to keep from laughing.
Unless fate deals us an incredibly bad hand, this case is solved.
Chapter 20
Suds
At FBI headquarters, I give my lawyer a backbreaking man-hug. “Quinn, you ol’ mother-fucker. What’re you doing here?”
He adjusts his tie and straightens his jacket. “Saving your sorry ass. Sit down and answer concisely, no rambling. Understood?”
“Yes sir.” I sit beside him while a very Special Agent Joe someone-or-other begins his interrogation “What were you doing in Long Island?”
“Saving Mrs. Rossini.”
“From what?”
“Being kidnapped.”
“How did you know she was kidnapped?”
“How did you not?”
Andy gives me a disapproving look.
“You said to make it short.” I grin as Andy’s eyes narrow, clearly not amused.
Trying to walk that fine line between too much and too little information, I fold my hands and place them on the scarred table. “Martha’s our client and hired us when y’all wouldn’t believe she saw someone get murdered. I guess, bein’ about ninety, you figured she had dementia. Anyhow, I too, was inclined to drop the case until she told me about her kick-ass night vision binoculars.”
I pause for effect and stare at the frowning Fed. “Y’all getting this?”
The man, about forty with a military buzz cut grunts. “Keep going. I want everything you remember.”
Andy sighs as I pop the ring on a can of cola. “Well, we got this detective agency, Suds and Sam? Maybe you heard of us? Sam, Samantha, she’s my partner. She used to work for y’all in DC but I got her fired on account I might’ve blathered during her questioning. Now sure, I carry on some, but that’s because you people ask so many unnecessary questions. If you’d stick with the important stuff, this would take a hell of lot less time.”
Special Agent Joe leans across the table with his best intimidating stare. “Mr. Sutcliff, if you could stay on topic. What happened in Long Island?”
Chuckling, I put my elbows on the table and we almost touch noses. “Why, after we saw the video of her being kidnapped, we called Jason, and rescued poor old Mrs. Rossini. You’ve worked with Jason, right? The AI unit?”
“Artificial Intelligence. Dr. Jones’ software. Yes. Go on.” He glances at the mirror, no doubt signaling to whoever’s listening, to double check my story.
