“We have fingerprint evidence that someone else may have been staying there in the house, too,” Elizabeth said. “We’re trying to figure out who.”
Hailey shook her head. “Those are the ones I remember.”
“There wasn’t anyone else? Maybe you didn’t see a face, but you heard a voice? Or heard another name being used?”
Another head shake.
Derek watched her, trying to read her body language. “Maybe Khalid mentioned someone?” he asked.
“He didn’t.” She was adamant. “None of them said much of anything to me. And what they did say—it’s all such a blur.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”
“Take your time,” Elizabeth said.
She set the pillow aside and stood up, folding her arms tightly against her. He thought she was going to ask them to leave. Instead, she laughed.
“You know, I used to have a good memory. That’s the ironic thing. Now there’re these . . . chunks missing.”
Derek glanced at Elizabeth as Hailey walked to the window and looked out. The sun was sinking over the golf course, casting long shadows across the grass. But he doubted she was thinking about the scenery. More likely she was thinking of how it felt to be held captive by a bunch of filthy, stinking men who would have been happy to slit her throat. And Derek felt like shit for dredging all this up, but they needed to learn what she knew.
“Since I got back, I’ve become a total freak about everything.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’m so paranoid all the time, jumping at shadows. Everywhere I go, it’s like there’s people following me. Reporters, stalkers, people watching my house.”
“You’re not paranoid,” Derek said. “People are watching your house.”
She turned around. “What?”
“There’s an unmarked FBI sedan at the end of your block,” he said.
Elizabeth shot him a look as Hailey strode across the room and peered through the expensive blinds covering the windows.
“What the hell? Why are they there?”
“It’s standard procedure whenever one of our citizens spends an extended time with terrorists,” Elizabeth said. “We keep them under surveillance. As a safety precaution.”
She snorted. “Don’t you mean Stockholm syndrome? God, you think I’m joining forces with them now?”
“I don’t think that at all, Hailey. It’s just standard procedure.”
She peered out the window again and returned to the couch. The nerves were gone now, replaced by a hefty dose of pissed-offedness.
“Khalid, Omar, and the guards. Those are the people I remember. But can I be sure? No. I was drugged some of the time, which I’m sure you know from reading my file. Probably some kind of opiate.” She stared down at her cast. “So you think they might be coming here?” She looked up. “That’s what you’re saying, right? If they’re planning an attack?”
“Rasheed’s on the terrorist watch list,” Elizabeth said. “We have his name, his photograph, his fingerprints. It’s highly unlikely he could get in here.”
“But you don’t have this mystery person.” She looked at Derek. “His name’s not on the watch list if you don’t know who he is.”
“No, you’re right,” Elizabeth said. “We have his print, but that’s all. That’s why we needed to talk to you, see if you might remember something more.”
Silence hung in the air. Derek watched Hailey, watched the tense set of her shoulders and the haunted look in her eyes. He felt a surge of anger over all the crap she was going to be dealing with, probably for the rest of her life.
She stood abruptly. “Sorry. I don’t remember anything else. I’ll let you know if I do.”
And that was it. Interview over. Elizabeth managed to get her to take a business card in case she recalled anything. Thirty seconds later they were out on the sidewalk.
Chapter Five
They walked silently back to the gray rental car. Derek’s pickup was parked around the corner. At the end of the block, a pair of bored-out-of-their-minds feds sat roasting in their vehicle.
Elizabeth’s shoulders drooped and she seemed defeated, but Derek knew that was temporary. She wouldn’t stay down for long.
“Why’d you tell her about the FBI tail?” She looked up at him.
“Girl thinks she’s going crazy. Give her a break.”
She sighed. “She doesn’t look good.”
“Better than last time I saw her.”
“She’s not sleeping.”
Derek glanced at her. “She told you that?”
“Her house told me that.” She stopped at the bumper and looked up at him. “You think she was being straight with us?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked back at the house. “I think she was holding something back.” She pulled open the driver’s-side door and tossed her purse inside.
“So where to?” He rested his arm on top of the door. “How about dinner?”
She gave him a quick half-smile that told him she’d been expecting the question. “I’d love to, but I’ve got a ton of work to do tonight.”
“How ’bout you forget about work and have dinner with me?”
“I really need to report in.”
He nodded. “Report in, and then have dinner with me.”
She cracked a genuine smile now. Then she shook her head. “I thought you had family waiting for you in Texas.”
“They’ll keep.”
She looked away. A breeze whipped up, picking up the loose wisps of hair.
He eased closer. “What are you scared of?”
“I’m not scared.”
“You’re afraid to go out with me.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
He stroked his finger down her sleeve and caught her hand. She didn’t pull back, just looked up at him with those clear blue eyes he’d been thinking about. “One dinner, Liz. Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.” It was a flat-out lie, and she knew it. She looked away again, and a warm feeling spread through him because he knew he had her.
“I’ve got to make a phone call first.” She met his gaze. “I’m staying at the—”
“Marriott by the airport, I know. I saw the tag on your dash.” He smiled and dropped her hand. “I’ll pick you up in thirty.”
* * *
She suggested the sports bar across from the hotel so he wouldn’t have to drive and she could get back to her laptop at a moment’s notice. Sitting in a booth, surrounded by wall-to-wall televisions and the spicy aroma of chicken wings, she felt guilty. The rest of the task force was back in Houston now, and she doubted they were getting much of a dinner break. Gordon was driving everyone hard. The potential threat to the nation’s fourth-largest city had Homeland Security’s full attention, and people across all agencies were doing everything possible to investigate without tipping off the media.
A voluptuous young waitress delivered their beers. She flashed a smile at Derek as she reached across the table to arrange his Shiner Bock just so on a little napkin.
“Your dinner will be right out.”
Elizabeth’s beer came with a curt nod.
She glanced around the restaurant, noticing all the women eyeing her table with interest.
“So,” she said when the waitress was gone, “you were right about Hailey. She was glad to see you. Not sure I would have had the same reaction from her.”
Derek tipped back his beer without comment. He’d seemed almost embarrassed by Hailey’s response. It was a completely new look for him.
“I appreciate your help with the interview,” Elizabeth continued. She was determined to use this time to touch on everything she needed to cover with him so he wouldn’t have an excuse to call her. “It was very helpful, but I want you to know that the task force has a handle on it. We can take it from here.”
The corner of his mouth curved, but he didn’t look amused. “Why don’t I believe that?”
“Okay, fair enough. Some mistakes have been made in this case. But Homeland Security—”
“Homeland Security fucked up, big time. They should never have let Khalid go.”
He was right, but she tried to downplay it. “Khalid wasn’t talking.”
“He’d been in custody five minutes.” He set his beer down. “Sometimes you have to sweat ’em out a little.”