Page 147 of Liar's Point

Emmet glanced at her. “What?”

“According to this map, we’re nearing a place called Rio Grande Salvage.”

“What, like a junkyard?”

“I have no idea.” She glanced at him. “But that doesn’t sound good.”

The cars in front of them sped up. They were a three-vehicle caravan, and someone had determined that they were better off without sirens. Nicole glanced out the window as they traversed what looked like fallow farmland.

“I don’t like this,” she said.

Emmet’s jaw tensed.

“This feels to me like a dumping ground,” she added. “Why else would he possibly take her all the way out here?”

He shook his head.

“You think we’re too late?”

Emmet didn’t reply. But she knew him well, and the grim look on his face was answer enough.

Shuddering, she glanced out the window again.

“Damn it.” She pounded her fist on the door.

“It’s not your fault, Nicole.”

“I should have pushed harder.”

“Harder for what?”

“With Cassandra. I knew she was lying, and I should have hounded her relentlessly until she told me what was going on.”

“It’s possible she didn’t even know what was going on.” Emmet glanced at her. “Have you thought of that? Sounds like her husband is the mastermind here.”

“She knew something about all this. I could tell. My radar was up with her from our very first conversation.”

Emmet looked at her. “You know who that D.C. guy is, right? Special Agent Raddick?”

Nicole’s stomach tightened. “No. What about him?”

“He’s in the counterintelligence division. I looked him up.”

“Counterintelligence... as in espionage?”

Emmet nodded. “Makes you wonder what Malcom McVoy’s wife might have learned about her husband’s business before she decided to leave him. Maybe he was selling sensitive technology to a foreign government or something.”

“Then this whole thing is a matter of national security. No wonder the feds are so intent on talking to her.”

Emmet lifted an eyebrow. “If she’s still alive.”

The cars in front of them slowed, and Emmet tapped the brakes. One by one, their three vehicles pulled to a stop beside a high wall made of corrugated metal. A solid black security gate barred the entrance.

Emmet’s phone buzzed, and he reached for it.

“Davis,” he answered, then glanced at Nicole. “Okay, roger that.”

She pushed open her door before he could tell her to stay in the car.

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