Threads of Suspicion(60)

“I sincerely hope so. I don’t want to even consider the implications for Maggie if we haven’t resolved the case by her next concert. She’s got one at the McCormick Center on March seventh.”

Six weeks. Evie prayed it didn’t take them that long. “There’s time,” she said.



Just after seven p.m. they rejoined Ann at the Ellis office complex. “I’ll carry my backpack and your briefcase,” Evie offered, “if you can manage that box Tammy’s parents gave us.”

“Thanks.” David slid over his briefcase. “Don’t wait for me—it’s cold out here. The box is heavy, but I’ll be able to open the doors.”

Evie didn’t need further encouragement. She headed toward the building as he retrieved the banker box from the trunk. Everything Tammy Preston’s parents had pursued to find their daughter was highlighted in the materials. They pleaded with them to read through it—they hadn’t given up the hope she’d simply run off and might be out there, still alive.

The first thing Evie spotted as she pushed open the office doors was a large fruit tray on the first desk, then a tall bouquet of flowers and glass bottles of Carin County Root Beer chilling in a chest of ice. The flowers she could easily guess were from Rob, who loved sending arrangements to brighten her temporary offices. The fruit and cold drinks—Paul, she thought, a gift for Ann, with likely their mutual friend Gabriel Thane’s involvement. The local brand of root beer was one of the best exports Carin County offered. She scanned the rest of the room, and her sense of order settled.

The head of the Chicago FBI office, Paul Falcon, was sitting at her desk, munching from a big bag of M&M’s. The other desks were equally occupied.

“Welcome home. We migrated,” said Sharon.

“So I see, boss. Hello to all of you.” She nodded at Theo and Taylor, put down the briefcase and backpack, shed her coat, and stepped out of her boots. It felt . . . nice, walking in and finding friends at the end of a taxing day.

David came in and stopped, equally surprised.

“There’s room for that box over here,” Theo said, pointing.

Evie waved at Paul to stay seated and simply perched on the edge of her desk. “Where’s Ann?”

“Food run. I type faster than she does, and more people scurry around when I ask a question.” He smiled as he said it and reached over to pull up a nearby chair. “Sit, kiddo. We’re up to speed on Tammy Preston—Ann’s filled us in on your notes. We thought it would be useful to push the rest of this question into place tonight so that you and David can catch your breath.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” David stated, interpreting why everyone was here. “The number of Triple M matches?”

“Not so bad,” Sharon said firmly. “Sit. Drink. Eat. We’ll drag out the whiteboard with details after you’ve gotten some food in you.”

Evie was ready to hand the weight of the day off to the others. She settled into the chair Paul had offered. “Pass me a root beer, David, and someone tell me what Ann is bringing in.”

“Sautéed chicken, baked potatoes, coleslaw,” Theo replied. “Ann’s putting it on Paul’s credit card since the FBI is being nice to us tonight.”

“So you’ve solved your missing high school student?” Evie asked Theo.

He smiled. “No shoptalk for thirty minutes. But yes. I’m in a race with Taylor for who gets a closed file first.”

“I’m in the race for last,” Evie figured. “I want one-sentence updates before I eat. Taylor?”

“I’m ninety percent solved, but he’s dead.”

“Sharon?”

“Eighty, but only because I don’t want to show too much optimism. Mine are alive.”

“Three closed out of five, with people alive in one,” Evie summed up. “Not for public notice, but that’s a great outcome.”

“I certainly can live with it,” Sharon agreed. “We’ll get Jenna and Saul figured out and make it five for five.” She came over to offer a chocolate chip cookie from a bakery bag. “The flowers have your name on them, Evie. I’ve been dying to ask. Your guy?”

“I’ll look at the card later, but I would assume so. Rob likes sending beautiful arrangements.”

“Nice.” Sharon pulled over a chair, and Evie asked her about any new wedding plans, more than willing to stay with the no-work rule for a while longer.



The group migrated to the conference room for their meal, moving folders aside to make space. The chicken was delicious, and talking slowed as they enjoyed it. Evie was well satisfied as she finished her coleslaw and final dinner roll. She let the conversation drift around her, about sports and politics and family.