She held out her ID. “Special Agent Addison Leigh.”
He shoved out a hand. “Jack Noble. Nice to meet you, Agent Leigh.”
She often told people she interviewed to call her Addy to help them relax, but something about this man’s demeanor told her to keep things formal.
“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.” She stowed her creds.
“I’m always glad to help in an investigation that makes the people I represent safer.” Sincerity rang through his tone, and he stepped back. “Come in. I have fifteen minutes, then I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“Fair enough,” she said and vowed to squeeze every one of her questions into the time limit.
He closed the door and led her through a lobby with a sweeping staircase and sparkling chandelier, the air carrying the sweet, almost cloying scent of a woman’s perfume. Addy wanted to comment on the smell and the lack of ranch feel, but she didn’t want to lead them down a rabbit hole that would take time from her real questions.
He stepped into a dark study, the wall behind a large desk holding thick legal books. He’d been a DA before running for Senate so that made sense. He gestured at two leather barrel-shapedchairs thatdidlook like they belonged on a ranch. “Can I get you a drink? Water? Coffee?”
“No, thank you.” She forced a smile and sat. She didn’t want to waste time with waiting for drinks.
He sat next to her and propped a leg on the other, then leaned back looking attentive. “Now, what’s this about some of my properties?”
She hadn’t talked to Mack about this but decided on the drive over that the best course of action was to be upfront with Noble. “We’re investigating a gunrunner who is soliciting drivers to cross over the border and bring drugs and guns into our country. It turns out he’s been hiring these men outside your malls.”
He tipped his head and kept his focus on her. “I’m sorry to hear that someone is running drugs and guns. But I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific with me. I own a lot of commercial real estate.”
“This would be properties listed under a holding company called Harp Holdings.”
“Oh, that,” he said, sounding casual, but a muscle twitched in his face.
When he didn’t say anything else, she leaned forward. “Can you give me a list of all the properties for this company?”
“Of course, but I’m not sure how that will help you.”
“First, let me say we don’t believe you have anything to do with this gunrunner, but for some reason he’s singling out your properties. It would help if we could confirm that our list is complete.”
“Let me print one.” He lurched to his feet and went to sit behind his desk.
She watched him maneuver his computer mouse and stare at his screen. If he was uncomfortable with this line of questioning, he didn’t show it other than that muscle twinge, which could mean nothing.
The printer on a credenza whirred to life, and he came back to hand over the report. She ran down the page and noted several properties not on Cam’s original list. “Does this include all the commercial properties you own?”
“No.” He sat, informally crossing his ankles.
“So the other properties aren’t part of Harp Holdings?”
“That’s correct.”
Okay, so he was cooperating, yet she was going to have to drag information out of him. “How do you decide which properties fall under this umbrella?”
He narrowed those sapphire-blue eyes. “I’m glad to answer, but I’m going to have to ask you to keep this confidential.”
Interesting.“I’ll only share it with the task force.”
He gave a firm nod. “I wanted to do something to make a difference for the lower-income families in my constituency, yet I didn’t want it to become public knowledge.”
She met his gaze. “No offense, but as a politician I would think it would be seen as a good thing.”
“It could also be seen as hypocritical.” He gestured at the room. “One look at my home on my ranch, plus my other properties, and voters could see me as a slumlord making money from the hardworking store owners.”
“Do you make money from these properties?”
