She’d seen his driver’s license photo in the car.
“Is your brother Travis here?” she asked.
He nodded.
“He’s working on a body in the basement. Is there a problem, Director?”
Well, at least he recognized her.
Honestly, she couldn’t believe she was going to say this, but here she was.
“Take us to your brother. We have to have a little talk about the dead.”
He looked…surprised.
Well, yeah, she bet he didn’t get a lot of Feds in here, or people who wanted to be near a dead body.
Call it a hunch.
“Like I said, there’s a deceased person…”
She didn’t care.
“Listen, Hector. I chase serial killers. I’ve seen victims you couldn't even imagine. Grandma who passed at ninety-four, isn’t going to make me puke in a plant. The last time I felt like I was going to puke, it was when someone was feeding people my deceased step-man-mother as chili.”
He looked horrified.
Ethan knew she was being crass for a reason. She was testing the waters, looking for any sign that this person might be involved.
“Okay, then,” he said. “Follow me.”
As they followed him, they got into an elevator, and it smelled like overly sweet flowers. It was the kind of smell that you got when you were surrounded by those huge funeral wreaths.
She hated it.
When she was gone, they needed to just cremate her and skip the hoopla. This was the last thing she wanted.
When the door opened, he walked them to a room, and it was cold in there.
Like.
A.
Morgue.
Well, this was familiar territory.
“Travis, we have visitors.”
When he looked up, he was shocked. It registered on his face.
“Uh, the Deputy Director of the FBI?” he asked.
Nailed it.
Someone knew who she was.
“Yeah, that’s me. Who’s the dead person?” she asked, pretending she cared. What she wanted to do was get closer to see if they had their eyeballs.
