“Sure thing,” Kira said. Blane watched as Kira put her hand on Dr. Reich’s shoulder and squeezed it before she headed into Dream Bean.
“So, what’s with the getup?” Dr. Reich asked.
Blayne barked a laugh and told her the cloak and dagger story of his day.
* * * *
Agent Murphy
Murphy spent the rest of the morning completing reports and filling out paperwork. By one p.m., she finally got the FISA warrant from Annie Little with the NCIJTF. With the warrant in hand, she also officially received permission to read in her boss and her partner. Her conversation with Jackson and Harper had been a bit tense, because Jackson felt she was being kept out of the loop on cases involving her own agents. Thankfully, Jackson didn’t blame Murphy for the bureaucracy and secrecy of Washington, DC.
Harper took everything in stride. By two p.m., the group loaded into one of the pool sedans and took off into the city’s heart to pick up Stephanie Anne Mitchell and her cell phone. The agents swung by the high school where she taught, only to find that Mitchell had left early for some kind of medical appointment, so they headed over to her residence instead.
Murphy pulled the car down the block from Mitchell’s house in the first available street-side parking space she could find.
“How are we playing this?” Harper asked.
“Nothing in this woman’s background suggests she’s anything but on the up-and-up. We assume the intel from NCIJTF is correct, and she doesn’t even know there’s a file on her cell phone,” Murphy explained. “She’s a victim, and our job today is to get her to a safehouse until DC can figure out what’s going on.”
The two exited the car and walked down the sidewalk. Murphy noticed an older man who sat on the stoop of one house across the street smoking something that didn’t look like a cigarette.I’msurehe has a prescription. She caught him eyeing them as they walked past, but he didn’t try to hide his pot-smoking.Ahh, this city!
The buildings in this part of town were all two-story Creole-style townhomes. Even though the Mardi Gras parades didn’t purposefully come through this neighborhood, the traditional second-story porch with the iron railing ran along both sides of the street. As they approached Mitchell’s address, she noticed the townhome had potted plants fastened to the railing. She glanced up at the balcony and saw a chaise lounge chair and a large fern potted in an oversized terracotta pot.Homey.
She climbed the three steps and knocked on the front door as she pulled out her FBI shield to have at the ready. Harper stayed below and off center of the front door, in case things went sideways. Murphy heard some movement inside before the door opened partly. A chain lock prevented the door from fully opening.
“Can I help you?” a young woman said as she peered out of the door.
Murphy opened her shield and held it up to the door. “Stephanie Anne Mitchell?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Can I ask you to please step outside?”
A look of concern flashed across Mitchell’s face. Ms. Mitchell closed the door briefly, and Murphy heard the metal chain being unlatched. When the door opened again, Murphy noticed a purse on a small table inside the front door.
“Grab your purse,” Murphy said.
Mitchell’s eyes grew as her eyebrows shot up with concern, but she did as Murphy instructed.
“I know this is scary,” Murphy started. “But let’s walk down the street and chat in our car. Don’t worry. You’re not in trouble.”
The woman hesitated a second but followed Murphy down the stairs as Harper followed them from behind.
“Okay, you’re freaking me out here,” Mitchell said.
“Let’s wait until we’re in our car. It’s down the street.” She nodded toward the older man, still eyeing them from across the street. “I want to have this conversation…privately.”
The three walked in silence. When they returned to the car, Murphy gestured for Mitchell to sit in the front while Harper sat in the car’s back. Murphy started the engine to get the air conditioning running again.
“Does this have something to do with Ethan Bond?” Mitchell asked when the doors were closed.
“Yes, and no.” Murphy told Mitchell about the data burst and its potential implications for national security without giving away too many details.
“You realize how crazy you sound right now, right?” Mitchell said when Murphy finished laying out the parts she could.
“Trust me, I do. And for your records,” Murphy said, “here’s a copy of the FISA warrant issued by a federal judge this morning.” She pulled the printed copy from her coat pocket and handed it to Mitchell. Murphy watched as Mitchell glanced through the document quickly.
“Wait a second,” Mitchell said. “This authorizes you to take me into protective custody?”
