Page 62 of Holmes, Margaret and Poe

“Wow,” Bree said, sitting back. “Well, good for you.”

Jannie’s brows knitted. “Does this mean no more great food?”

“It means I may need help making great food once in a while.”

Bree smiled. “That can happen. Have you told Alex about this yet?”

“Not yet,” she said. “But I am still capable of making my own decisions, you know. I haven’t taken to wandering around the neighborhood in my nightie or anything.”

Bree and Jannie burst into laughter. “No,” Bree said. “You’re a long way from that.”

“Well, good,” Nana said. She smiled broadly, and then her eyes went to the clock on the far wall. “Don’t you have to leave for that race?”

“Oh God,” Jannie said, jumping up. “Will we make the start?”

“We’ll try,” Bree said. “After we clean up for Nana.”

CHAPTER 56

Arlington, Virginia

SAMPSON FOUND U.S. ATTORNEYRebecca Cantrell at her office that afternoon. She was dressed down in jeans, running shoes, and a snug red fleece top that set off her dark brown eyes and mahogany hair.

“You have more time to work on this, Detective Sampson,” Cantrell said, waving him to a seat in front of her desk.

“I think I’ve found enough already,” he said.

“To do what?”

“Let Captain Davis go.”

“What?” the U.S. attorney said, sitting forward and looking skeptical.

He described going to Bowman’s and seeing the security recordings, then showed her the pertinent clips, including the possible drop of a drug into Davis’s drink, the suggestion of Davis slumped in the front seat of the Jeep Cherokee, the WestVirginia license plate, and the video still of the woman with her hair in the wind and her face exposed.

“I’m not convinced on the drop of the drug,” she said.

“I’m leaning toward it. The license plate was stolen two days ago. Belongs on a Ford pickup truck registered to a college kid from Seneca Rocks, West Virginia.”

Cantrell thought about that. “You think she stalked Davis? That he’s the fall guy and she’s part of the frame?”

“I’m saying I’m not buying the crab-boil story, and the mystery woman is why.”

She sat back in her seat and for the first time Sampson noticed just how striking the U.S. attorney for the Eastern District of Virginia was.

Cantrell did not seem to be aware that he was studying her. “We also got a report from Quantico on the signature on that fragment of the van-rental agreement found in Gravelly Point Park. There’s something off about it.”

“Is it a forgery?”

“You could argue duress or forgery. Which means any good defense attorney is going to bring it up in court.”

“You’ve still got the bomb residue,” Sampson said.

“Do I? Defense will argue that this mystery woman at Bowman’s could have planted it, in which case she’s an accessory before and after the fact.”

“And a hundred percent connected to the downing of the American Airlines jet.”

Cantrell nodded, considering something. “You know, we could have found her DNA on that jumpsuit with the bomb residue on it. But we didn’t. In fact, we didn’t find anybody’s DNA besides Davis’s, and it’s all near the collar, the wrists, and the ankles.”

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