Does he have any idea what a relief that would be?
“What are you doing out here? Aren’t you going to watch this guy get interrogated?”
“You’ve forgotten. I don’t have clearance anymore without my badge.”
“Ahh,” he says. “Well, you’re in luck.” He flashes his. “Follow me.”
What the hell?I have no idea why Ewing would be going out of his way for me. Is this my reward for backing the blue with Railes? If so, I feel even worse. I want to shake the slimy feeling suddenly clinging to me like a coat of acid, corroding away at me second by second.
But also, I’m reading something else in him.
Something sincere, like there’s an ounce of his conscience bubbling up. An ounce of generosity. Perhaps regret?
Either way, I’m happy to swoop up the break.
He shows his badge to the palace guard and says, “She’s with me.”
I follow him into the elevator and walk beside him down several halls to the observation room. Ewing knocks on the door.
Alderson opens it, and I’m glad it’s him and not Greene, who’s told me to stay away.
“I see you’ve enlisted local help,” Alderson says when he sees me standing behind Ewing. “Persistent, aren’t you?”
“That she is,” Ewing says.
“Is Greene in there with him now,” I ask, “or are you still letting him stew?”
“Greene’s with him now.”
“Can we come in?” I say.
“No, you can’t.”
“Why? I’m the target here.”
“She has a point,” Ewing adds.
Alderson rolls his eyes but doesn’t shoo me away. “Wait here a sec,” he says, and shuts the door.
I lean back against the cool hallway wall and look at Ewing. “Why are you helping me?”
“Because I feel like it. Because no one should be in the situation you’ve been in this week.” There’s a sincerity in his voice. It dawns on me that, maybe—just maybe—he’s got some guilt of his own to work through.
But I also want to say,No one should be in the situation I was in with Hartley and all the harassment at work.I eat my words, though. Getting into an argument after his generous favor here makes zero sense.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Ewing says. And walks off.
Alderson reopens the door. “Where’s what’s his name?”
“Just left. What’s going on?”
He holds the door to the observation room open and I step in. I immediately look through the one-way. Greene is with Lasserio, staring him down, apparently waiting for an answer to something she’s asked.
“Have you gotten anywhere with him yet?” I say.
“Yes, quite a bit,” Alderson says. “When we showed him the video of his arm grabbing the marker and told him we knew it was his tattoo, he came clean on a few things.” Alderson fills me in on what they’ve learned: that Ridgeway had hired Lasserio to keep an eye on me when Ridgeway learned I was investigating Clarissa’s death. When he realized I was a dead ringer for the sketch, he seized the opportunity to keep me freaked out and distracted.
“When we showed him the video at the storage unit,” Alderson says, “he said he knew you were tracking him. So he called his brother, Sawyer Lasserio, to come and scare you. When you didn’t look sufficiently frightened out at the dump site, they both went by your house intending to try something there but ran into all the reporters. That’s when he and Sawyer changed tack and decided to go after your sister.”
