Page 88 of Only the Wicked
“I’ll be happy to make introductions to the executive team scouting locations.”
“Excellent. I’m sure you see the wisdom of leaving a state with high taxes and an affinity for?—”
“If you’ll excuse me.” I don’t want to hear him bash California. Our location was chosen for the talent pool, and while San Francisco might not be my favorite, I’m not moving our headquarters to Kentucky. Ever. This is the part of the job I hate, and the reason I pay others to deal with the salesmen.
“Will I see you tomorrow night at the ball?”
“I’ll be there.”
He casts a glance across the space and jerks his head, acknowledging another suit. “I’m meeting someone. We’ll speak?—”
“How do you know Sydney?” The question is left field, but I’m not seeking the answer as much as the reaction.
“We’ll speak tomorrow night,” he says, stepping away, then stopping. “Are you, is she…” he closes his eyes and tilts his head, apparently struggling to formulate his question. “Will she be in attendance tomorrow night?”
“Yes,” I answer, although her being disinvited is no longer a zero-sum possibility.
“She’s a good girl,” he says, almost to himself.
He nods and heads to his awaiting friend.
A good girl.
In what way? A CIA way? An assistant way? Did they date?
What the hell is going on?
I ask the bartender if Sydney owes anything, and he says no, that she’s already paid.
I open a billfold and drop a ten, then head out of the hotel bar to the elevator bank.
On my way, I pull my phone and message Daisy.
* * *
Me
Do the deep dive on Sydney Parker.
* * *
Within seconds, a response comes through. I pause outside the elevator bank, gesturing for a female hotel guest to enter, and I step away.
* * *
Daisy Jonas
Completed yesterday. Penn and CIA personnel file checks. No social media presence, but that’s expected.
* * *
She means because of her employment with the CIA.
* * *
Me
See if you can find a connection to Senator Crawford. Also, any FBI connections.
