Free The Black List by Robin Burcell Page B

the audience. “Let’s get those cameras up here and sign some books!”
    And like magic the crowd herded Griffin and Sydney toward the stage, and the two gunmen fell back.
    “You did it,” Eve said.
    “For the moment. We still have to get out of here.”
    Sydney stood in the midst of the flashing red and blue lights that lit up the front of the hotel, reflecting off the plateglass windows and those of every car parked in the lot. She’d called MPDC to make sure they had a clear route out to prevent anything from happening to the other guests, should the kidnappers attempt to take them by force. Once the cops showed up, their alleged kidnappers fled and the threat was averted. “Sometimes,” Sydney said, “you have to do things the old-fashioned way.”
    “Effective,” Griffin replied. “Unless you want to preserve your cover.”
    “ Your cover. I never had one,” Sydney countered as Lieutenant Sanchez walked up, eyeing her with a mixture of frustration, annoyance, and curiosity.
    She put on her best smile, since maintaining a good working relationship with the local cops was always a plus. “Lieutenant Sanchez. Thanks so much for getting everyone here so quickly.”
    “You mind telling me what’s going on?” Sanchez asked.
    She drew him away from the others, conscious of where Eve was standing, even though Tex was doing a good job of keeping her out of earshot. “You recall the suicide related to the big embezzlement case we discussed last night?”
    “Or didn’t discuss, if I remember correctly.”
    “Right. That one. This is a follow-up to that.”
    “Let me guess. You wanted us to come charging in, save the day, then pretend like it didn’t happen?”
    “Not exactly. After all, we had five hundred witnesses in that ballroom, and one of them’s bound to question why you’re here. I figured you could spin it as a robbery attempt.”
    “A robbery?”
    “The men who tried to force us from the ballroom had guns.”
    “And who was it they tried to rob?”
    “The reporter, photographer, his assistant, which would be, uh, me, and that woman in the silver dress. Any chance I can use one of your interview rooms to take a statement from her?”
    “You want my damned car keys to drive her to the station, too?”
    “I think we have the transportation covered.”
    “You know what, Fitzpatrick? When you finish digging out of this can of worms, you are going to owe me. Big-time.”
    “You’re with the FBI?” Eve, her silver lamé gown at odds with the scarred and battered police interrogation room, stared at Sydney as though seeing her for the first time. “James Dalton and his photographer? Are they FBI, too?”
    “No, ma’am,” Sydney said. “They’re with the Recorder. They were doing an investigative piece involving the embezzlement from a San Francisco charity. I asked to accompany them in hopes of getting to the bottom of whatever is going on. And a good thing, it turns out.”
    Eve wrapped her bare arms around herself. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.” She closed her eyes, rocking back and forth. “I thought he was going to kill us. When he pointed that gun at James—” She looked at Sydney. “Is he here? This is all my fault. I should have called the police when I first saw them.”
    “I can bring him in if you like.”
    She looked relieved. “Please . . .”
    “I’ll be right back.” Sydney left her, walked down the hall to where Tex and Griffin waited in a small seating area. “One damsel in distress asking for a mild-mannered reporter.”
    Tex jumped up, a boyish smile lighting his face.
    Griffin gave an exaggerated sigh. “Try not to drool, Tex.”
    “Ah,” Sydney said. “New lust. It’s kinda cute, don’t you think?”
    Griffin leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. “Wake me when you’re done.”
    Syd and Tex returned to the interview room. Eve stood the moment Tex entered, and with only a moment’s hesitation, threw herself into his