She greeted the officers when they got out of the car. She wasn't familiar with either of them, which made everything easier. While she spoke with them, Max kept a protective eye on Whitney.
He'd put his gun away, and she didn't want to explain who he was, so she let them think he was also FBI. Fortunately, her badge, the lack of injuries, and the damage from the gunfire being contained to Whitney's car and garage door gave the officers little to be interested in. After her explanation, they left.
Max grabbed Whitney's suitcase and put it in the back seat next to her, while Kara slid into the passenger seat and gave Max the address for the safe house. Then they headed back into the city.
Whitney seemed in shock, an endless rain of tears pouring down her face, and hiccupping sobs racking her body. She seemed genuinely terrified and upset, but Kara had little compassion for her. She'd sold out her boss to pay off a gambling debt, and she didn't believe for one second Whitney hadn't suspected something was going to happen. Maybe the thought hadn't occurred to her until she was standing in that building, but her instinct had told her to run, and if she hadn't, she might have ended up like James Cooper.
Turning in her seat, she asked her again, "Tell me again exactly what Cal said to you, Whitney."
"I already told you."
"He said he wanted James to understand that consequences can be painful. What do you think he meant? Was he talking about revenge?"
"I actually thought he was talking about me, about having to pay for my losses, for the advances in cash Elias had given me so I could keep playing."
"But he wasn't talking about you; he was talking about James," she said.
"I see that now."
"Do you know Samantha Barkley?" Max interjected.
"I know a Samantha who works out at the gym. I think that might have been her last name. She's a lawyer."
"She's actually a federal prosecutor, and she was injured in a bomb blast at a café on Monday," Kara said.
Whitney stared at her in confusion. "Are you saying that Cal did that, too?"
"Pretty sure he did," she replied. "What do you know about Cal? Do you know his last name? Where he works? Where he lives?"
"I just know he works with Elias, and he sometimes helps with the poker games. I don't think I ever heard his last name. And I have no idea where he lives. He's kind of creepy, super tall, and had mean, cold eyes that match his black hair." Whitney paused. "He has a faint accent. I'm not sure where it's from."
"Who else plays in the games?" Max asked.
"There are two groups: people who have money, and people who look good. And there are men and women in both groups. That's how I got in. Elias said they needed some single ladies who knew how to play."
"Was there more involved in these games than just poker?" she asked. "Were you supposed to entertain some of the other players in a more private way?"
"No," Whitney said. "I just played cards and flirted a little, mostly to throw the men off their game. I like to win. And it's hard to stop when I'm not winning. I keep thinking I'll get it all back on the next hand."
"Is your ex-boyfriend part of this group?"
"No. And why are you asking me about him?"
"Wondering if he knows Cal or Elias," she asked.
"I started going to the gym after we broke up. He plays with a different crowd and mostly online." Whitney took a ragged breath. "What's going to happen to me?"
"We're going to put you in a safe place for a few days. You'll answer a lot more questions, and the more help you give us, the easier things will go for you."
"I never thought James was going to die," she said as she burst into tears again.
Kara glanced at Max, whose hard profile didn't show any hint of compassion for the woman in the back seat, and she couldn't blame him. Whitney wasn't innocent. She'd walked her boss into the closet that had gotten him killed. But they needed Whitney to keep talking. Now that she'd confirmed Elias and Cal had worked together, along with Jonas Cray, they were getting a better idea of who was involved in the bombings, but the why was still to be answered.
When they arrived at the doorman-controlled building, they received a key and a unit number. Then they took Whitney up to the eighteenth floor. The one-bedroom apartment was small and furnished with the basics: a couch, coffee table, and TV in the living room, a small kitchen, a bedroom with a queen-sized bed, and an adjacent bathroom. The windows didn't open, and there were no buildings or windows facing them. The doorman and security manager provided an extra layer of security, but there would be an agent outside the door and one in the apartment with Whitney.
"This isn't bad," Max commented as Whitney went into the bathroom. "I assume your team is sending someone over."
"Not sure if it's my team or someone from 26 Fed. I guess we're working together now because there are multiple crime scenes. What do you think about Whitney's story?"
