“A day ago,” she said, “I was considering walking away from Emily Shaw’s murder. Now I’m not sure I can.”
“You need help,” I said.
Sylvie eyed me with suspicion.
“I don’t know if she mentioned it, but Alice is a fan,” I added.
“Really?” Sylvie flashed a brief smile. “That’s cool. I have a pretty big audience, but not so big that I’m bumping into them right and left.”
“Alice pretty much runs this place, and she’ll be pissed off if I sent you away without offering to help.”
Sylvie straightened and shook her head. “I came here to ask a few questions, hoping to shake something loose about that note, but I can’t afford Sinclair Security. Especially considering I’m currently homeless with a lot of expensive equipment to replace.”
I leaned forward, the better to make her comfortable as I figured out how to play this. “You’re right, you probably can’t afford us. But I think we might be able to work something out,” I said, my mind racing.
There was no way I was telling the podcaster why we were interested in Emily Shaw, but the fact was, we both wanted answers. She was going to be out there digging. I didn’t even have to ask—whoever decided blowing up her van was the way to deal with Sylvie Calloway should havemade sure she was inside when it went, because now they’d pissed her off.
She was hungry, exhausted, and suffering from some degree of shock, and still she wasn’t ready to give up. Once she was feeling a little steadier, she was going to be furious. I could work around her if I had to, but I could control her more easily if we were on the same team.
How to explain without tipping my hand? I needed to talk to Cooper and Ryder.
A knock sounded on the door, and it swung open to reveal Alice, with coffee and a package wrapped in waxed paper, smelling of bacon and cheese. Sylvie’s stomach rumbled audibly, and I cracked a grin.
“I’ll leave you with your breakfast and the coffee.” I snagged the other cup out of Alice’s hand. “I need a word with Cooper and Ryder before I go any further with Miss Calloway.”
“They’re both in Coop’s office,” Alice said. “You’re all right in here for a few minutes, Sylvie?”
She looked up from the biscuit sandwich she was unwrapping and nodded. “I’m fine. This is great, Alice. Thank you.”
“No problem,” Alice said. “Come on, Eli.” She pulled me from the meeting room, shutting the door behind us, and looped her arm through mine. “So, we’re taking her case, right? Right?”
I shook my head. It was impossible not to grin at Alice when she was fired up like this. “I don’t know yet. I have to talk to Cooper. But my guess is yes. And possibly for free.”
“Hmm. That’s not usually our style, but we could make an exception.”
I swung open the door of Cooper’s office. He, Ryder, and Miranda all looked up,eyebrows raised.
“Done so soon?” Ryder asked. “What’s up with the podcaster?”
“She isn’t here as a client,” I said. “She’s here investigating. We’re her lead.”
“Her lead to what?” Ryder asked.
“Sinclair Security’s phone number and address were found in the possession of the woman whose death she’s investigating. And you’ll never guess who it is.”
Miranda’s gray eyes met mine as she said under her breath, “Fuck me. Tell me it’s not Emily Shaw.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Emily fucking Shaw.”
“Who blew up in her driveway?” Cooper asked.
“Just like Sylvie Calloway’s van blew up last night,” I finished.
“Fuck,” Ryder said, shoving a hand through his short, dark hair. “This is getting messy. There are much quieter ways to kill than a car bomb. Who the hell are we dealing with?” He shook his head, pushing that question aside. “What’d you tell her?”
“Nothing, but I think we need to consider?—”
“You should investigate with her,” Alice said. “She’s good. I mean, not like elite security team good, but for a civilian, she’s good.”
