take polygraphs to make certain no one leaked anything about the surveillance camera inside the house. They’re bringing in someone from D.C. to run the tests. You’ll probably have to take one, too.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow. Troy set them up on the hour. He’s going first at eight o’clock. I’m on for nine, Colby is at ten; Jim and Lani are at eleven and twelve. I’m surprised he hasn’t called you yet.”
“Maybe he wants to rule everyone else in or out before he gives me a turn.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Who knows? Maybe he thinks it couldn’t have been me since it was my show or maybe he thinks it had to be me because that would explain why I was shaking so badly. Either way, it would make sense for him to leave me for last.”
“I hate taking a polygraph,” she said.
“We have to take one every year just to make certain we’re still good guys. I thought you’d be used to it by now.”
“I don’t know,” she said, sighing. “Those guys always make me feel like I’m guilty of something even if I don’t know what it is.”
“That’s what they get paid to do. Did you tell Marty Grisnik that you found Oleta’s fingerprints on the money?”
“That’s Troy’s call. I just report the news. How about you? Grisnik tell you anything else I should know?”
“I haven’t talked to him.”
“It would be convenient if you did,” she said.
“Yes, it would.”
Ammara didn’t know it, but she had just shown me how to break into the federal penitentiary. I didn’t know if I could be convicted for trying. Like all criminals, I knew that it wouldn’t matter unless I got caught.
Chapter Twenty-four
“You want me to take you where?” Marty Grisnik asked.
I was on my cell phone, still at the restaurant. “Leavenworth. The federal penitentiary.”
“That good-looking Chevy of yours broke down?”
“Runs like a dream, but your big Crown Vic will make a much better impression on the warden.”
“Why would I want to take you to Leavenworth?”
“To make a new friend.”
“I don’t like the friends I have. I don’t need any new ones,” Grisnik said.
“You might like this one.”
“This friend of yours know anything about Oleta Phillips and her boy?”
“Doubtful.”
“Then I’m not going.”
“But he might know someone who does.”
“Who is it and what do you think he knows?”
“I’ll tell you on the drive over. And I’ve got something else for you. It turns out I do still have a friend at the Bureau. I’ll park in the city lot behind the federal courthouse. You can pick me up on the corner of Seventh and Ann in half an hour.”
“I’m going to quit taking your phone calls,” Grisnik said.
“Won’t help. I’ll sleep on your doorstep, follow you to work, and wait outside your office.”
“I may leave you in Leavenworth.”
“I’ll pack a toothbrush. There’s one other thing.”
I could hear Grisnik grinding his teeth over the phone. “What?”
“You still have that phony ID you loaned me when I served the fugitive warrant at Marcellus Pearson’s house?”
“I’ve got it locked up in my desk drawer. I’d burn it except I’m afraid I’ll be accused of destroying evidence.”
“Good. Bring it with you.”
“What for?”
“They won’t let just anyone into that prison.”
“The easiest way is to take I-29 North to Platte City, then pick up Highway 92 and take it straight into Leavenworth,” I told Grisnik.
He’d hung his suit jacket in the backseat, rolled his sleeves, and put the air conditioning on high. He furrowed his eyes and set his jaw like he wanted to pimp-slap me.
“You don’t think I know how to get to Leavenworth?”
“I’m sure you do. I’m just saying that’s the best way to go.”
“You gonna tell me how to tie my shoes and brush my teeth?”
“I don’t care about your shoes or your teeth. Do whatever you want with them.”
Grisnik goosed the Crown Vic into the traffic on the Intercity Viaduct, catching I-70 East, then cut over to I-29 North.
“Happy?” he asked.
We were on the Paseo Bridge crossing the Missouri River. A casino built on a?oating barge was docked below, tight against the riverbank, its garish pink, red, and yellow neon lights re?ecting off the cloudy water, the promise of something for nothing dragged down by a swift current and then drowned in mud and silt. Though it was still early, the parking lot was half full, gamblers anxious to roll the dice on the rent money. I envied them. My odds were longer and my stakes were higher.
“As a pig in shit,” I said.
“Now tell me again why I’m driving you to Leavenworth.”
“I told you. There’s someone there I want to talk to.”
“Why don’t you talk to him by yourself?”
“I had to turn in my FBI credentials when they put me on medical leave. The Bureau frowns on freelancing.”
“So you have to make an appointment like every other visitor-that whole thing they do there with the visitor lists and the points.”
“Exactly. And today isn’t a regular visiting day. So I need you to get me inside.”
“But that’s not enough. You want me to help you impersonate a police officer, too.”
“No. I want you to help me do my job so I can help you do yours. Think of it as a back-scratching, gate- swingingboth-ways road trip. You know as well as I do that the prison keeps records of every visitor. Doesn’t matter if it’s family or feds. I’d rather keep this one off the radar for now.”
Grisnik didn’t respond for a few minutes, finally shaking his head like he would regret his decision. “We want to see an inmate, always works better to let the warden know we’re coming.”
“Call him.”
Grisnik reached in his pocket,?ipping open his cell phone. “I’ll need a name.”
“Thomas Rice. Went up a few months ago on a drug charge.”
“I remember hearing about that case. Wife turned him in, right?”
“That’s the guy.”
“Why do you want to talk to him?”
“The wife is selling the house.”
“You in the market?”
“No,” I told him. “Someone else is who can’t afford it.”
“This person in the market or just interested in this house?”
“Just this one. Already signed the contract. The wife ended up with the house when they got divorced. The husband gets half the sale proceeds, but the wife has to give him notice of the sale and the price has to be fair
