“I mean, if I were you,” Sin continued, “I’d be thinking of a way to get a slice of that pie. You knew about his grief in losing the woman he loved. You witnessed his love and overprotection of his daughter since his wife’s death. What a better way to get your slice than have her kidnapped. Take your piece of a substantial ransom.”
“This is all hearsay,” Smitty interjected. “Besides, we all know that Becca wasn’t even the one the kidnappers wanted. That pretty much erases everything you just said.”
Sin held up her hand. “Allow me to backtrack. Becca wasn’t the primary target, although her kidnapping did seem to be a lucky circumstance. The target, your target was Pia Russo. If her father, the head of the largest ‘Ndrangheta family, had so much money that he could filter a seven-figure sum to Lancaster, surely he had more. More that he could filter your way if his daughter was in trouble.
“How am I doing so far?”
“This is bullshit, all circumstantial bullshit.”
“Not so. You see I had Onyx’s permission to search his records as well,” she lied. She tossed another set of phone records towards Lancaster.”
“Why would the kidnapper give you permission to search his records?” Smitty asked.
“It was part of the deal to give him the ransom.”
“You gave Onyx the ransom?”
She could practically see his pressure rise. “I did. But after whatever happened during his takedown in West Palm Beach, a good Samaritan, I don’t know who, gave me the money back.”
“Where is the money now?”
“Your money, you mean. It was given back to its rightful owner, Dominic Russo.”
All through this conversation, Lancaster flipped through pages and pages of records.
Before Smitty had a chance to answer, Sin reached into her pocket and thumbed the talk button on her phone. Smitty jumped when his phone started to ring. Sin pulled a phone out of her pocket and slid it across the desk. “You might want to answer that,” she said. “Onyx is calling from the grave.”
The president threw his chair back and fisted the phone. “Care to explain this, Agent Smith?”
Smitty grabbed the president by the neck, spun him around, and pointed his gun at his head. “I’m done explaining myself to you. O’Malley is right. I was the one putting my life on the line. I was the one who saw your smug expression as you duped the American public into thinking that your cause was just.” He pushed the barrel of the gun tighter against the president’s head. “I was the one who got zilch while you got rich! I deserved a piece of the pie, a damn big piece. I couldn’t care less about the life of the daughter of some low-life scum. I wanted what belonged to me!”
Smitty snarled at her and grinned. “It seems we’re at an impasse. Either you let me leave here with the president or I kill him. Which will it be?”
Sin just stared at him.
“What’s wrong, O’Malley. No smartass comeback.”
“She doesn’t need one,” Frank said, pressing his weapon into Smitty’s side. “Lower your gun or die. Your choice.”
“You shoot me, I still kill Lancaster.”
Sin drew her weapon. “I suggest you lower your weapon.”
Smitty moved even further behind the president. “Go ahead and shoot. You can’t take me out without hitting Lancaster.”
“Frank, do you agree with Agent Smith’s opinion?”
Lancaster eyed her as if looking for a sign.
Sin gave him a quick shake of her head.
“I don’t know. I’ve heard from a reliable source, from an upstanding citizen of our country, that you could shoot the balls off a field mouse from fifty yards. You’re a lot closer than that.”
With Smitty’s attention on what Frank was saying, she dipped her chin towards the president. In a quick move that made her proud, he elbowed Smitty in the gut causing his gun hand to drop. Frank yanked Smith away from the president and threw him against the wall. His gun fired and flew out of his hand as he crashed head first into the concrete.
Sin stood over the disgraced agent. “You’re under arrest. Frank, would you mind reading this scumbag his Miranda rights. I seem to have forgotten them.”
Agents crashed through the door of the Oval Office, guns pointed at everyone. “Lower your weapons,” Lancaster yelled. “Everything is under control.”
Frank yanked Smitty off the ground by the collar of his shirt and tossed him towards the agents. “Book him on charges of kidnapping and attempted murder.”
Lancaster dropped on to the couch and loosened his tie. “How did you know? How did you know it was Smitty?”
“Call it a hunch.”
“Come on, you can give me more than that.”
“Back in the Keys, it didn’t make sense that Smitty had to go outside to take a phone call. Not just outside, but all the way down on the beach. That was my first inclination that he might be involved. The second was that he called off all of Becca’s detail the night of her abduction. I knew you wouldn’t authorize that without influence. And even if you had, I knew you would have a backup. Your phone records indicated that you did call off her official detail, but that you
