Free Conspiracy by Stephen Coonts Page B

“Right away?”
    â€œYes. We need you to meet Charlie in Tokyo tomorrow night.”
    â€œTomorrow? Do I have a choice?”
    â€œYes, as a matter of fact you do. Would you prefer to fly on Aeroflot or Air France?”

 
24
    AMANDA RAUCI CLUTCHED her fingers together, trying to stave off the urge to put another mint Life Saver in her mouth. They were a dead giveaway that she had been drinking in the middle of the day.
    Bloodshot eyes weren’t exactly camouflage, either, but there was nothing she could do about those.
    â€œThe director will see you now,” said the secretary. Amanda nodded, and rose from her seat. Despite her earlier resolution, she reached into her bag and took out a mint, popping it into her mouth before entering Frey’s office.
    â€œPlease sit down,” said Frey.
    The icy tone told her everything. She forced a smile to her face as she pushed one of the modernistic seats up close to the director’s desk. The chair felt uncomfortable, oversized; Amanda’s feet didn’t reach the floor. She bit the candy she’d just put in her mouth, swallowing the tiny pieces in a single gulp.
    â€œI can’t believe you would hinder an investigation by withholding important information,” said Frey. “I can’t believe it.”
    Amanda said nothing.
    â€œWhy? Why didn’t you say anything? Surely you knew Jerry was dead.”
    â€œWhat was there to say?”
    â€œWhen did you last see him?” Frey asked.
    â€œA few nights before he died.”
    â€œDuring your vacation?”
    â€œBefore my vacation started.”
    â€œWas he depressed?”
    Amanda shook her head.
    â€œWhy didn’t you say anything?” asked Frey again. “Didn’t you think it was relevant?”
    Because if she said anything, then it would be real. Then he would be gone, really, utterly, truly gone. And she was gone as well.
    â€œWhere were you the night Jerry died?”
    â€œI was at a hotel, waiting for him.”
    â€œWaiting for him? Where?”
    â€œA few miles from . . . I guess . . . where . . .”
    She had to stop to control the sobs. How much was she going to tell Frey? Everything? Or just part?
    Part. Whatever she could get out before despair took over.
    â€œWe spoke,” Amanda said. “He told me to wait. I was in the bar awhile. I was there, I guess, when he—”
    Sobs erupted from her chest so violently that she shook and couldn’t continue.
    Frey offered no sympathy. “That’s it?”
    She nodded. Clearly if she told him she’d been there—God, if she told him she’d been there, he’d have her charged with murder.
    â€œYou still have vacation days left?” asked the director.
    Amanda formed her fingers into fists, then ground them into her cheeks to stop the tears and sobs. “Yes,” she managed.
    â€œThen take them. Hand in your credentials, and your weapon. Leave them here.”
    â€œI’m suspended?”
    â€œWhat do you think?”

 
25
    LIA AND DEAN stopped at a small family-style restaurant not far from the Foresters’ house for an early dinner. Lia immediately regretted it. The restroom was filthy, in her experience never a good sign. But Dean had already ordered for both of them by the time she got to the table.
    â€œYou really think you know what I want?” she asked him.
    â€œTurkey wrap.”
    â€œMaybe I wanted a hamburger.”
    â€œThat would be a first.”
    It wasn’t so much that he was right as the fact that he was smug about it—quietly smug, of course—that annoyed her.
    â€œI felt bad for the kid,” said Dean.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œI’d hate to see that happen to my son.”
    â€œWhat son?”
    â€œIf I had one.”
    Lia, confused, said nothing until the waitress came with their drinks—seltzer for Dean, iced tea for her.
    â€œYou knew I wanted