Malloy moved with purpose. “You can call her on the way to the FBI office. I told the FBI they could interview you at the safe house, but they disagreed and got all threaty. So we’re off to the FBI office.”
Noni stumbled as she followed him from the room. At the last second, she turned. “Thank you, Doctor.”
The doctor watched with obviously curious eyes. “Any time. I meant what I said. Call me if you have any questions or concerns about the baby.” Then she smiled at Malloy. “Don’t get shot again, Detective.”
“No promises,” Malloy said dryly, moving with ease on the crutches.
Noni shook off her fear and self-doubt. “What did the doctor say about your wounds?”
“I’m fine, but I have some explaining to do with my superiors,” Malloy said grimly.
“How much trouble are you in?” she whispered.
He shrugged. “Not sure. I let Denver and his brothers slip away, and it was obvious that I’d been shot before the take down. But we did just bring in an entire drug-dealing street gang, so we’ll see. First things first. Let’s make the FBI happy by showing up for your interview. Think of a good story, if you can.”
Her story? She had a story? “All right.” Her entire life she’d been a terrible liar. Wasn’t it actually a felony to lie to the FBI? She recalled reading something about Martha Stewart and federal charges from lying to a federal agency. “This is so not good.”
“Preaching to the choir here,” Malloy agreed.
He led her through the hospital, and the police followed. Then he loaded her and the baby into the back of a nondescript brown car with a few dents in the side. “We don’t have a car seat yet, but Tina is picking one up. Just, um, hold tight.”
Noni winced. She was already a terrible mother. “Okay.” She gently rocked Talia back and forth until the baby finally fell asleep. She called her aunt and Verna, and discovered they were only an hour away. Apparently they hadn’t rushed right off to South Dakota like instructed, no doubt wanting to help get Talia back. Malloy gave her the address for the safe house, and she rattled it off. Good. They’d be with her soon.
After a quick trip to a pharmacy, they finally drove through town and ended up at a stately brick building. She allowed Malloy to assist her from the vehicle and quickly followed him into the building, through a couple of secured doors, and ultimately into a rather nice interrogation room.
She sat just as Tina poked her head in.
“Oh, what a cute baby.” Tina came inside and leaned down. “My buddy at the FBI let me in since I promised to help with the baby while you’re interviewed. I have a little crib thingy for her. Why don’t I take her into the other room, give her the medicine, and let her sleep a little? She could probably use some food, too.”
Noni looked at her new friend. She trusted Tina, but even so, it felt wrong to give up the baby. “All right.” She handed her over, and Tina cooed and rubbed Talia’s little face. “I really appreciate your help,” Noni said.
“Of course,” Tina said, her adoring gaze not leaving the baby as she left the room. “I don’t know, Jamie,” she murmured. “We might be ready for one of these.”
Malloy paled.
Noni bit back a smile. Smiling felt inappropriate at the moment.
Footsteps approached outside the door, and then a large man with deep brown eyes and slightly darker hair came into the room. He wore a blue power suit with a green striped tie, and he moved like he could seriously . . . move. “Miss Yuka?” The guy slapped a manila file on the table. “I’m Special Agent Fred Reese.” He pulled out a chair and took a seat. “Malloy? You can go.”
Malloy snorted and dropped into a chair off to the side. “Not a chance. This is my case, and I brought you in only because of the federal charges against the Kingdom Boys gang. My witness isn’t staying with you.”
Reese barely smiled. “We’ll see about that.”
Noni shivered. The agent didn’t seem like a guy she wanted to mess with. How could she explain everything without giving Denver and his brothers away? She’d have to lie, and she wasn’t sure which direction to take. If crying and turning into a sobbing mess would help, she’d do it. But one look at the agent’s implacable face, and she realized that wouldn’t work. “So.”
A scuffle sounded outside, and a huge barrel of a man lumbered in. “Questioning stops right now,” he ordered, his Southern-accented voice booming.
Noni jumped in her seat, her breath catching.
“I haven’t started,” Agent Reese muttered.
“Good,” the man roared. He had a couple of files in his hand, and he opened one to toss a piece of paper in front of Reese. “I’m Carl Symington the Fourth, attorney out of Alaska.” Then he threw down another piece of paper. “I have reciprocity here in Washington.” His plain brown suit had certainly been purchased at the big-and-tall store. His entire torso was just . . . large. No beer belly, just a lot of girth. A dark brown beard covered the lower half of his face, but his jowls still jiggled. Tinted glasses veiled what looked like deep brown eyes, and his hair was a mix of brown and gray, slicked to the side. He shambled around the table, laboriously drew out a chair, and settled his impressive bulk into it. “I represent Miss Yuka.”
Noni’s mouth gaped. Who in the world was this guy? The smell of pipe tobacco and mint gum wafted toward her. “Hello.”
He gave her a short nod, his large head moving with effort. “Hi. Don’t speak.”
She blinked. “Gladly.” There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t quite place him.
