true. They had even been warned repeatedly by whistleblowers, and did squat. What does that tell you about the SEC?”
She rolled her eyes. “Nothing good.”
“Trust me, it’s frustrating.”
“I know it’s not really a part of this investigation, but surely you can do something with this evidence. Maybe lean on your boss again? This is too big to just ignore.”
“Silver, you’re singing to the choir, but there’s nothing I can do. The information is out there — there are websites devoted to it. There have been hearings, and speeches, and outraged fist-shaking. But nobody does anything. It’s like it’s all for show, and nobody wants to know the truth. And the media just ignores it all, so the average person thinks everything must be okay. People have short attention spans. I’ll hit my boss again, but I’m not hopeful.”
“I just can’t believe it. Really. That’s not how things are supposed to work.” Silver shook her head. “I walk into the corner liquor store and stick my gun in the owner’s face and steal four hundred dollars, I’m going to jail, but if I run a brokerage that takes the financial system to the edge of disaster and make billions illegally trading on behalf of the country’s enemies or for criminal syndicates, nobody does anything? That can’t be. It just can’t be, Richard.”
“I hear you. And I’m also telling you that’s exactly what happened and nobody wants to know about it.” He sighed and stretched, then smiled at her. “This stuff gets to me. It’s my specialty, and sometimes I get too close to it. Sorry.”
“No problem. I understand why you’re so passionate about it. It’s got me seeing red now too.”
She studied his expression and felt a stirring of something in her stomach. The same as the other night when they’d kissed. He must have felt it too, because when he glanced at his watch, he did so with an almost elaborate calm.
“I really enjoyed dinner the other night, Silver. I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
“Me, too. We should definitely do it again.”
“What about tonight? Are you super-busy, or could you fit in a few hours for your hardest working Financial Crimes liaison? You’ve been so busy getting shot and all, I haven’t had a chance to ask…”
A tremble of anxiety fluttered through her, but she didn’t try to duck the question. “I suppose I could see my way clear to working you in. Provided I can get the babysitter again.”
There was an undeniable magnetism to Richard, and she sensed that the pull was mutual. She’d had time to sort out her feelings about the prior dinner date, and she didn’t see any reason to say no to another one.
“Give her a try. If so, I’ll see if I can get us a table someplace nice. I’ve heard good things about a few places in this area.”
“There are world-class restaurants on the lower East Side. Some of the best in the city…” she said.
He stood, his hand brushing hers as he reached for his files. She felt a shiver run down her spine.
“All right, then,” Richard said. “It’s a date. Buzz me to confirm, okay?”
“I will. Want to shoot for seven thirty?”
“Perfect. You want me to give you a ride home?”
“No, let’s plan on meeting at my building. Assuming I can reach the babysitter, and that she’s free. I guess it’s all up to her schedule, now. I’ll let you know.”
Richard smiled. “Talk about power…”
Chapter 16
Howard watched as the two figures entered the building and then nodded to himself when the lights came on in the windows facing the street. This was his second evening of surveillance, and he was ready to move to the next phase of his plan whenever an opportunity presented itself.
He rubbed his eyes, which were burning from the long days and only a few hours of sleep every night. The hours were beginning to wear on him, but he was confident that he’d be done soon enough.
Closing his eyes for a brief moment, the visions of horror came unbidden, as they had with increasing regularity of late. His house belched smoke into the sky as streams of high-pressure water futilely arced through the air, and the soot-streaked face of one of the firefighters screamed an impossible message at him as he struggled to break free from his grip and run into the inferno.
The seared remains of his beloved wife being carted out in a body bag, followed by his only daughter — struck down in her prime, a gentle spirit who’d never hurt anyone or anything in her life.
He opened his eyes and realized that he had no answers to the questions that played through his mind whenever the visions came. Why had his angels been torn from him in such a brutal and ugly way? And why his daughter? Why had she been the one to try to rescue her mother from her mad act instead of him? To what end? All he had were questions, and he knew he would never have suitable responses, except that the world was random and chaotic in how it apportioned cruel outcomes, and that evil often prevailed for no good reason.
Howard shook off the memories. He couldn’t afford sentimentality if he was going to be effective. There would be plenty of opportunities for harsh introspection once he was finished — for now, he needed to focus.
He settled in for another long vigil, thankful that he might be able to snatch a few hours of sleep once the hour grew later and the object of his surveillance went down for the night. But the clock was working against him — he would need to make his move soon. He wanted to avoid anything during the daytime, but it was increasingly looking like he might have no choice.
Time was running out.
Richard pulled to the curb and put the car in park, then called Silver on his cell.
“I’m downstairs. I got us a last minute reservation at Gramercy Tavern. Have you heard of it?”
“Heard of it? It’s one of my favorite restaurants. But I’ll need to change — it’s kind of upscale.”
“Well, hurry up. We’ve got to be there in fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll be down in five.”
He hung up and turned on the radio, scanning the airwaves until he found something he liked. Gypsy Kings. Flamenco voices filled the car as guitars strummed furiously, and he tapped his fingers along with the music on the steering wheel.
Ten minutes later, Silver appeared at the front door, looking ravishing in a one-piece black dress cut just above her knees. Richard turned down the radio and got out of the car to greet her.
“Wow. That’s quite an outfit you threw together in nothing flat,” he said approvingly.
“A girl can never go wrong with a black dress. My mom told me that. When in doubt, go black and keep it simple.” She flashed a smile, white teeth dazzling in the twilight.
“I feel underdressed now. Hardly Cary Grant to your Audrey Hepburn.” He gestured to his dark blue Tommy Bahama shirt and black slacks.
“Nonsense. They’ll be more than happy to take your money, either way. Come on. I’m starving, and time’s a wasting.”
Richard opened the passenger door for her. “How’s the bullet wound?”
“You mean the scratch? I’ve had toothaches that hurt worse.” A small exaggeration, but not too much.
“I wonder if you’ll get a medal for being shot in the tush…”
They both laughed.
“Wouldn’t that be typical? Hey, at least it would be a great conversation starter at the local watering hole.”
“Something tells me you won’t be needing that tonight. You’re spoken for,” Richard said, and she liked the way he said it. It was nice to be spoken for. She noted that his arms were well muscled. Not too much, but not too little. She’d only seen him in long-sleeved dress shirts, and upon consideration, she decided that they were exactly right.
“Are you in awe of being in the presence of a genuine FBI combat veteran?” she teased.
