Free Deceptive by Sara Rosett Page A

you think we can do it?”
    Carla looked back and forth between them. “Do what?”
    “It’s probably our best chance,” Jack said. “If we can make a flight tonight we could arrive about the same time as her.”
    “But the tickets. They’d be outrageous.”
    “We’ll charge them.”
    “But they have to be paid off sometime,” Zoe said.
    “I’ll cover it. You’d do the same thing for me. In fact, you
have
done the same thing for me.”
    Carla had been watching their conversation like a spectator at a tennis match, her gaze bobbing back and forth between them. “Y’all aren’t talking about flying to Paris, are you? Tonight? That’s crazy.”
    Jack said, “Come on, Zoe. I have some money in savings and a credit card that hasn’t been used in months. I couldn’t touch it or the money while I was under the radar, but there’s nothing stopping me from using it now. How much can two last minute tickets to Paris cost?”
    “A couple of thousand, at least.”
    “I’ll cover it. You can pay me back, if it makes you feel better.”
    “Okay,” Zoe said reluctantly.
    “You can’t fly to Paris tonight,” Carla said.
    “Why not? We both have passports,” Zoe said. “Dallas is an international hub. There will be plenty of flights. And for once, the FBI couldn’t care less if I left the country.”
    “Not yet anyway,” Jack said. “And we want to keep it that way. How much are the tickets, Carla? Can you look it up for us?”
    “And could you print her most recent emails for us?” Zoe added. “I can look through them on the flight, see if I can find anything else.”
    Carla turned back to the computer. “You’re both crazy. You don’t just book an international trip and hop on a plane a couple of hours later. You need time. You have to buy guidebooks, plan your itinerary. You don’t even know what electrical adaptors you need.”
    “Don’t worry. I’m getting used to it,” Zoe said.
    ***
    S ATO pressed the doorbell again. The Kid waited behind his shoulder, glancing at his phone. It was late, and Sato knew The Kid wanted to get home. An issue with another case had consumed the rest of the afternoon and early evening. They hadn’t been able to get out of the office until after six-thirty. Sato had told The Kid to go on...that he could handle the check in with Zoe Hunter on his own, but The Kid had said he wanted to meet the “cyber thief.”
    After a few minutes, Sato went around back, pounded on the kitchen door. No answer. He hadn’t called, not wanting to give Zoe Hunter or the newly cleared Mr. Andrews any warning he was coming. He cupped his hand around his eyes and looked in the window over the sink.
    A wadded dishtowel sat on the counter. Two tall glasses along with a few pieces of silverware rested in the sink. A smattering of paper, which looked like envelopes, trailed across the island as if someone had tossed them down on the way in from the mailbox. “Apparently, they are both out.” He stepped away, then went back and peered at the kitchen ceiling. Yep, the gaping hole in the drywall was finally fixed. Unfortunately, he didn’t think he could take that as confirmation that Zoe had taken millions of dollars from a scam and hid it in a well-disguised bank account.
    Sato turned from the window and surveyed the backyard where The Kid was pacing, checking the signal on his phone. “Looks like they’ve done some landscaping, too,” Sato commented.
    “So you think she took the money?” The Kid asked with a nod of his head toward the house and a doubtful look.
    “The house and neighborhood don’t exactly scream millionaire, do they?”
    “No, but I suppose she could just be smart. You know, waiting it out so she doesn’t raise any suspicions.”
    “Except for purchasing art,” Sato said.
    “You’ve been in there before,” The Kid said pointing to the house. “Is she into art?”
    “Only art I saw in there was mass market stuff, posters you can get at Target or IKEA.