"But you wouldn't let them."
"They have actual clients in actual danger. I've just got someone who can't build a proper bomb." She took a sip, perfect temperature. "How do we find him? The saboteur, the bomber, whoever?"
"FBI will be investigating that, too," Cory said. "Unless they decide to call in ATF. I doubt that’ll be necessary here. I have federal contacts who'll share what they can legally."
"I have contacts too. Less legal ones, but?—"
"No."
The word was flat, final. She bristled.
"Excuse me?"
"No illegal intelligence gathering. Not yet." He held up a hand before she could argue. "We do this right first. By the book. If that doesn't work, then we'll discuss alternatives."
"I hate your book."
"My book keeps evidence admissible." His jaw tightened. "Which is why we're going to be smart about this. Use every legal avenue first. Promise me, Izzy. No calling in favors from questionable sources until we've exhausted legitimate options."
She studied him over her mug. He was serious about this, probably wouldn't let it go until she agreed.
"Fine. I promise," she conceded, but the fingers on her free hand were definitely crossed behind her back.
He relaxed slightly. "Good. Now, let's think through what we know. You're convinced it's MedFlight behind this."
"Who else benefits from Mountain Angel going under?"
"What if Mountain Angel folding is only collateral damage? Could be someone with a personal grudge against someone attached to Mountain Angel—or not." He held up fingers,counting. "Could be someone targeting one of the flight personnel. Or there could be some hidden motive we won’t see coming.”
"But different crews were involved—" She stopped, seeing his point. "Which would be a good way to hide the real target."
"Exactly." He looked pleased, like she was a student who'd finally grasped a concept. It should have annoyed her. It didn't. "We can't lock onto one theory too early. That's how you miss crucial evidence."
"So what, we just follow every possible lead?"
"We follow the evidence. Build theories that fit facts, not the other way around." He refilled his mug. "First rule of investigation: stay objective. Second rule: assume nothing. Third rule?—"
Her phone rang. Unknown number.
"Ms. Reyes? This is Special Agent Debartolo, FBI. I need to interview you regarding the aircraft sabotage and the attempted bombing. I’m going to need you to come down to our temporary headquarters. You know the county building on Main?"
"I—"
Cory plucked the phone from her hand. Just... took it. The audacity.
"Debartolo? This is Chief Cory Fraser, Hope Landing PD. Ms. Reyes is currently under protective custody due to the attempt on her life. She'll be available for interview tomorrow morning at nine a.m. at Knight Tactical headquarters."
She could hear the agent’s surprise through the phone. "Chief Fraser, we really need?—"
"Tomorrow morning. Nine a.m. I'll be present during the interview." His tone brooked no argument.
He rattled off Knight Tactical's location, then hung up and handed her phone back like he hadn't just steamrolled a federal agent.
"That was high-handed," she said.
"That was necessary. You're not going anywhere at night when someone's trying to kill you." He rinsed his mug with irritating efficiency. "Besides, making them come here gives us home field advantage."
She wanted to be annoyed at his presumption. But he was right—having him there would be an advantage. His presence would keep the FBI from railroading her, and his questions might reveal what they knew.
