how many. But I do know it’s not just the kids.”
“And you’re sure you can get in?”
“No sweat. I’m a regular. I play there three nights a week.”
“Only this time you’ll play with an electronic listening device.” Derek reached into his pocket. “Come to the field office at one o’clock tomorrow afternoon. I’ll prep you and set you up.”
Lee wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. “I can’t be seen at your offices.”
“Give me a break, Lee.” Derek counted out two tens and a five. “Your crowd doesn’t hang out at Federal Plaza. Plus, they’re not even awake until two in the afternoon. You’ll be long gone by then.”
“And this listening device?”
“Tiny. And too well concealed to be spotted. You’re cool.”
A pause, as Lee considered his options. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed. He eyed the bills in Derek’s hand, his gaze shifting to the MP3 player. “You buying that?”
“Hell, yeah.” Derek’s tone was laced with sarcasm as he tossed Lee the bills. “A Samsung MP3 player with an OLED display for twenty-five bucks? That’s a steal.”
Lee shoved the money into his pocket.
“Don’t forget the warranty and user manual,” Derek reminded him. “You can’t be too careful these days. Everyone’s out to rip you off.”
With a grunt, Lee handed over the fake papers. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”
85 West Cocktail Bar
Marriott Hotel World Financial Center
Vesey Street, New York City
1:30 A.M.
Sloane shifted on the bar’s leather stool and took another careful sip of her raspberry cocktail. She’d been nursing it for the past half hour, making sure to keep a clear head. Not only for the drive home, but for the interview she was about to conduct.
After Doug Waters had blown her off at the last minute because of some major deal he was negotiating, she’d called his bluff, determined to speak to him today, while she was in Manhattan. Her interviews with Penny’s friend Amy and coworkers at
Harper’s Bazaar
had yielded nothing. But they’d all mentioned Doug, and the fact that Penny had seemed to take the breakup hard. So Sloane was hell-bent on getting Doug’s side of the story—tonight, before he had time to spin the facts in his favor.
She’d decided to wait him out. Even investment bankers went home eventually. So, after hearing the time commitment involved in his negotiations, she’d suggested they meet between 1 and 2 A.M. right here at the Marriott, walking distance from Merrill Lynch’s investment-banking headquarters. Doug had been audibly surprised by how far she’d bend to make this meeting happen. He’d lost his smooth edge, tripped over an attempted excuse, and then finally realized he sounded like a man with something to hide. He’d agreed to meet her at the bar.
Sloane had made some quick arrangements. She’d called her neighbor, Elsa Wagner, an elderly woman who lived alone, except for her Pomeranian, Princess Di, and her son, Burt, who’d practically moved in since his recent divorce. Between Elsa and Burt, Sloane had constant and reliable backup for her beloved hounds when she was out of town or working long hours.
Having made plans for her “babies,” Sloane then prolonged her dinner with Elliot—although she knew she was less than stellar company, given how drained and preoccupied she was. She made sure to fortify herself with three leaded cups of coffee. Those were all the reinforcements she needed to be sharp as a tack for her meeting with Doug. Her time at the Bureau had conditioned her well for the long days and bizarre hours that were the mainstay of investigative work.
Now she took a healthy swallow of water to dilute the effects of the alcohol, then returned to her drink, stirring it with the little straw. There were just a handful of stragglers left at the cocktail bar. Most of them were cramming for early-morning meetings.
Sloane didn’t envy them.
Not ten minutes later, a good-looking guy in his midthirties wearing a
“And you’re sure you can get in?”
“No sweat. I’m a regular. I play there three nights a week.”
“Only this time you’ll play with an electronic listening device.” Derek reached into his pocket. “Come to the field office at one o’clock tomorrow afternoon. I’ll prep you and set you up.”
Lee wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. “I can’t be seen at your offices.”
“Give me a break, Lee.” Derek counted out two tens and a five. “Your crowd doesn’t hang out at Federal Plaza. Plus, they’re not even awake until two in the afternoon. You’ll be long gone by then.”
“And this listening device?”
“Tiny. And too well concealed to be spotted. You’re cool.”
A pause, as Lee considered his options. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed. He eyed the bills in Derek’s hand, his gaze shifting to the MP3 player. “You buying that?”
“Hell, yeah.” Derek’s tone was laced with sarcasm as he tossed Lee the bills. “A Samsung MP3 player with an OLED display for twenty-five bucks? That’s a steal.”
Lee shoved the money into his pocket.
“Don’t forget the warranty and user manual,” Derek reminded him. “You can’t be too careful these days. Everyone’s out to rip you off.”
With a grunt, Lee handed over the fake papers. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”
85 West Cocktail Bar
Marriott Hotel World Financial Center
Vesey Street, New York City
1:30 A.M.
Sloane shifted on the bar’s leather stool and took another careful sip of her raspberry cocktail. She’d been nursing it for the past half hour, making sure to keep a clear head. Not only for the drive home, but for the interview she was about to conduct.
After Doug Waters had blown her off at the last minute because of some major deal he was negotiating, she’d called his bluff, determined to speak to him today, while she was in Manhattan. Her interviews with Penny’s friend Amy and coworkers at
Harper’s Bazaar
had yielded nothing. But they’d all mentioned Doug, and the fact that Penny had seemed to take the breakup hard. So Sloane was hell-bent on getting Doug’s side of the story—tonight, before he had time to spin the facts in his favor.
She’d decided to wait him out. Even investment bankers went home eventually. So, after hearing the time commitment involved in his negotiations, she’d suggested they meet between 1 and 2 A.M. right here at the Marriott, walking distance from Merrill Lynch’s investment-banking headquarters. Doug had been audibly surprised by how far she’d bend to make this meeting happen. He’d lost his smooth edge, tripped over an attempted excuse, and then finally realized he sounded like a man with something to hide. He’d agreed to meet her at the bar.
Sloane had made some quick arrangements. She’d called her neighbor, Elsa Wagner, an elderly woman who lived alone, except for her Pomeranian, Princess Di, and her son, Burt, who’d practically moved in since his recent divorce. Between Elsa and Burt, Sloane had constant and reliable backup for her beloved hounds when she was out of town or working long hours.
Having made plans for her “babies,” Sloane then prolonged her dinner with Elliot—although she knew she was less than stellar company, given how drained and preoccupied she was. She made sure to fortify herself with three leaded cups of coffee. Those were all the reinforcements she needed to be sharp as a tack for her meeting with Doug. Her time at the Bureau had conditioned her well for the long days and bizarre hours that were the mainstay of investigative work.
Now she took a healthy swallow of water to dilute the effects of the alcohol, then returned to her drink, stirring it with the little straw. There were just a handful of stragglers left at the cocktail bar. Most of them were cramming for early-morning meetings.
Sloane didn’t envy them.
Not ten minutes later, a good-looking guy in his midthirties wearing a
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