“My car clunked out on me,” she said, sounding exasperated. “As luck would have it, I just lapsed on my AAA, too.” She shrugged her shoulders and laughed again. “Just one of those days, I guess.”
“Where are you coming from?”
“Richmond,” she replied, without hesitation. “I’m going to visit my mother. Or at least I was.”
“Did you manage to get hold of a tow truck?”
“Yes, I did. Mike’s Towing. I got the name from directory assistance. They should be here shortly.”
Lowe nodded politely. “And where does your mother live, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“…Baltimore. Just outside of Baltimore, I mean.”
He couldn’t help but take note of the pause. It could be the truth, but it seemed a little strange; even the least capable traveler could hardly stray this far off course, engine trouble or not. He checked the woman’s hands for the second time; they were still in her lap, one clasped over the other. Good. Scanning the passenger seat, he saw a hooded pullover resting on the cushion. He couldn’t see what might be beneath the article of clothing, but he remembered seeing a blur of motion when he’d first flashed his lights, and he couldn’t help but wonder what the sweater might be covering. His curiosity was piqued by the loose papers scattered over the floor. All of a sudden, he had the feeling that something wasn’t right here.
“Well, I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you, ma’am,” he said tonelessly. “May I see your license and registration, please?”
She didn’t reply right away, her mouth working silently. “Is that really necessary? I mean, I was just sitting here-”
“I’m afraid it is. You see, we received a complaint about your vehicle, so we have to be thorough.”
“Well, I don’t have it on me, actually. In fact, I don’t have any ID at all.”
“What about the registration?”
“I, umm…” She made a show of looking in the glove compartment. “I don’t have that either. Listen, Officer, I-”
“Whose car is this?”
“It belongs to my boyfriend.”
“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to step out of the car. You can take the keys with you.”
“Officer, I really don’t think-”
“Step out of the car, please. Right now.”
He’d added a note of authority that time, and she complied right away, pushing the door out toward him. He stepped back to let her out, then said, “Move to the front of the vehicle, please, and put your hands on the hood. Are you carrying anything I need to know about? A weapon of any kind, needles, anything like that?”
“No, of course not.” She was indignant but complied readily, leaning against the fender and opening her stance. He took a long moment to admire the view. “Are you even allowed to do this?” she asked. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”
Lowe ignored the question. He patted her down slowly, using the backs of his hands as regulations required, but not without a tinge of regret. Technically speaking, he was feeling for anything solid, anything lumping beneath the dark, loose-fitting clothes. That was another thing, the way she was dressed… not suspicious in itself, but something to file away.
She didn’t appear to be armed. Satisfied, he stepped back. “Ma’am, I’d like to search your vehicle. Do you mind?”
“Do I…? Yes, I do mind.” She raised her level of indignation, knowing he would only expect it if she truly had nothing to hide. “That’s completely uncalled for.”
He nodded slowly, wondering how far he wanted to take this. In truth, the woman’s story made perfect sense: she had engine trouble; she was waiting for help. She knew the name of a local tow company, and her tags had checked out. Still, he couldn’t ignore his instincts, and they were telling him that something was wrong with this whole situation. His radio stuttered to life. He listened for anything interesting, but it was just another unit clearing a call.
Lowe gripped her right arm just above the elbow and steered her toward his cruiser. She stiffened under his grasp, but didn’t try to resist. “I’m going to have you sit in my car for a few minutes while we sort this out.”
“But why?” she asked, her voice beginning to climb. “This is ridiculous. I haven’t done anything wrong!”
“Then you won’t mind answering a few questions.” He moved to open the rear door, but before he could, she caught his eye and spoke again in a more reasonable tone.
“Officer, do I really need to sit in the back?” She gave him a pleading look. “I mean, it’s not like I’m under arrest, right?”
He looked at her, then back at the car. It was true; she hadn’t really done anything wrong, and he didn’t want to invite a harassment charge at a later date. Besides, he’d rather have her up front, anyway. At the very least, it would give him something to look at for the next thirty minutes or so.
“Fine,” he said, guiding her round to the passenger side. He opened the front door, and she reluctantly got in. “Just wait here,” he ordered. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Once the door was closed, Naomi quickly composed herself and watched intently as the officer walked to the front of his car, unhooking his shoulder mic. As he turned away and faced the embassy grounds, she sat up and checked out the cruiser. She didn’t bother trying the door, as there was nowhere to go. Looking down to her left, she examined the radio mounted between the seats. The chatter was audible, and the green LED light showed a “1,” which she assumed was the primary channel. She listened for the officer’s voice, which was nasally, unpleasant, and easy to catch, but heard nothing she recognized. She quickly decided he must be transmitting on a secondary channel.
She nearly pressed her ear to the window in an attempt to hear what was happening, but stopped herself in time, realizing how futile the gesture would be. He could be double-checking the tags on the Taurus, or he could be calling his patrol supervisor. Her panic was starting to get the best of her. She had done her best to seem disadvantaged but not incapable. After all, she needed him to leave; it wouldn’t do to have him sitting around, waiting for a tow truck that would never arrive. Unfortunately, he hadn’t bought her act, and now, the only thing working in her favor was that she had talked herself out of the backseat, where she would have been completely vulnerable, stripped of all her options.
She swore under her breath, second-guessing her actions, wondering how else she could have handled it. It might have been better to just hand over her real ID, but the officer might have detained her anyway, and she couldn’t risk being listed on a police report. It would be too easy to link her to the embassy break-in at a later date, as she was parked so close to the building. Ideally, she would have had a false ID to satisfy a casual inspection, but even if Harper had been willing to go that far out on a limb, there just hadn’t been time to get one forged. Besides, forging an ID for a mid-level analyst would have raised a lot of questions. It also would have meant bringing too many people into the loop, and in this case, that simply wasn’t an option.
Things were not looking good right now, but they had the potential to get much worse. If a detective was called down to take over the questioning, she would never get rid of them in time. Ryan would be making his way through the grounds; from his last transmission, she knew he had found what they needed. All he had to do now was get out of the building and back to the car.
Maybe he’ll spot the cruiser and walk away, she thought. Naomi didn’t think he would leave her, but given the situation, it might be the best thing. She couldn’t be arrested; she hadn’t done anything wrong. They might hold her for questioning, but if she stuck to her story, they would have no choice but to let her go. On the other hand, if they managed to dig up probable cause — or at least enough to convince a magistrate — they could get a warrant to search the Taurus. And if that happened, one of the first things they would find was the file on the front seat.
With this thought, she felt suddenly sick. The ORACLE file contained enough damaging information to drag the Agency through the mud for the next five years. Needless to say, its public disclosure would also completely destroy her career. Letting them search the car was not an option.
She looked through the windshield. From where she was sitting, the chancery was barely visible, a black smudge over the treetops. She peered into the darkness, searching in vain for the smallest sign of movement.
Come on, Ryan. Where are you?
