Christmas Male(43)
“Then we’ll get more. Let’s give Professor Lewen a call.”
Fiona pulled out her cell and D.C. read the number he’d jotted in his notebook.
After a moment, she met his eyes. “It’s busy.”
“Want to bet they’re nailing down their alibi?”
“We’ll have to go visit the professor.”
“I have an idea about that.”
“What?”
“Trust me.”
9
D.C. TOOK A SHARP LEFT at the first corner, then executed a U-turn, inched the car back up to the intersection and stopped. Through the windshield, Fiona could just see the front of Billy Frank’s apartment building. She caught a flicker of movement from a window on the second floor. Billy’s apartment?
“What are we doing?” she asked.
“A little surveillance.”
“I thought we were going to visit Professor Lewen. The address isn’t very far from here.”
“Let’s wait and see.”
Less than two minutes later, Billy, Carla and Mark shot out the door and piled into a compact car that had seen better days a decade ago.
Fiona stared at him. “How did you know they’d come out?”
“I had a hunch. And I want to see where they go.”
“Too bad it’s not the van.”
“Nothing worthwhile is that easy.” D.C. waited another ten seconds before he eased up to the corner and pulled around it. Two blocks ahead of them, the compact car took a right turn.
Fiona fished out her cell and tapped in numbers. “I have a GPS system on this. Just for fun, let’s see how far it is to Professor Lewen’s house…ah, six point two miles. Just over the state line in Maryland. And if I were paying her a visit, I would turn just where they did.”
They drove in silence until D.C. made another right. The small car was three blocks ahead and turning onto a ramp.
“My laptop is on the backseat,” D.C. said. “Why don’t you see what you can dig up on Professor Kathryn Lewen?”
Fiona reached for it and started work. She was aware when the car picked up speed on the ramp, but she kept her gaze focused on the screen. “Nice equipment,” she murmured as she tapped the keys. “The police department doesn’t provide anything quite this fancy.”
“Neither does the army. My brother gave that to me. I worked for him briefly about six months ago. I was on leave after I got back from Iraq, and I had some time on my hands.”
Fiona wondered if the leave had anything to do with his injury. Whatever had caused the damage to his leg, she knew firsthand from her visits to Walter Reed what the long and grueling process of rehabilitation was like. She didn’t want to think about him in a place like that. If she was going to get out of this episode with D.C., she had to at least try to keep things simple.
Pushing the images firmly out of her mind, she concentrated on the computer screen. She quickly located a photo and short biography on American University’s Web page. “She’s young—I’d guess early to midthirties. Long, curly, light brown hair. She’s been a full professor in the Information Studies Department for three years.” She glanced at D.C. “They don’t offer much more than that. But if the photo is up-to-date, she made full professor in record time.”
“Any publications?”
Fiona tapped some keys and felt a little thrill of excitement. “I found her Web site. Last year she published a full-length book—Security in a Digital Age. You can buy it on Amazon.”
“I’ll ask my brother to dig deeper.”
Fiona glanced at him. “You suspect her of playing some role in the robbery.”
“She’s Billy’s professor and he’s tight with her. Look, they’re stopping.”
Fiona glanced through the windshield just in time to see the compact car turn in to a driveway. They were on a tree-lined residential street, where the houses were set on generous lots, well back from the road. Thanks to the afternoon sun, the snow was melting and patches of grass were already visible on the wide lawns. “Her book must be doing well.”
D.C. stopped the car. “Do I call the shots on this one or do you?”
Knowing that she might be getting herself into trouble, Fiona said, “I called the last one. And you were the one who thought to follow them. It’s your turn.”
“You play fair, Lieutenant. I like that.” He moved quickly, taking her chin and brushing his lips over hers. The contact was brief, but the effect, a melting sensation that streaked right to her toes, lingered even as she joined him on the sidewalk.
“I wish you’d stop doing that.”
“What?”