“Missed a spot,” she said as she retreated back to the doorway.
He went after her, grabbing her shoulders. “Look, I get it. You’re angry. But I don’t think you’re mad because you think I’m after your brothers. I think you’re mad because I actually fooled you. And I’m sorry, but this is what I do, especially when people are dead and I want to bring their killers to justice. No matter what I feel about you, I swore an oath, and I owe the dead the best I have. And if you can’t deal with that, I’m sorry. Meanwhile, I fully believe that someone wants to kill you, I just don’t know why, but my best guess is that they think you know something that’s a danger to them. And maybe you do and just don’t know yourself what it is. As for your family...dammit, Kieran, if there’s a reason why you think I’m after them, a reason why you think one of them might be involved—even unintentionally—tell me now.”
He realized he was gripping her shoulders too hard and released them.
She stared up at him. “I have already told you—no one in my family would have anything to do with robbing anyone, much less murder.”
She turned and walked away.
He thought about following her, but he decided to give her some space and headed back into the bathroom to finish removing his disguise.
That spot on his chin still smarted. He rubbed it gently. No doubt about it, she was strong.
When he finished, he found her sitting on the living room sofa beneath a watercolor of the Brooklyn Bridge, staring into space.
“Kieran?” he said.
She looked up at him.
“I can leave if you want. I’ll stay nearby, maybe out in the hall, and keep an eye on your place. But I don’t want you to feel as if I’m crowding you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I would never make a government agent sit in a hallway all night,” she told him.
He sat on the sofa, too, but not so close as to touch her.
She didn’t look at him.
“What aren’t you telling me?” he demanded, aggravation getting the better of him.
She did turn to look at him then. “Did you find out anything while you were in disguise? Did you overhear something that might help?”
He hesitated. He and Mike thought they were onto something. Jimmy had told them that he’d been bringing business associates into the pub. Men who were looking to invest, but smart enough to want to know the details of their potential investments. He’d introduced them to Krakowsky and a few of the other diamond brokers. That was exactly the kind of info both sets of thieves would have been interested in, too.
“I think Jimmy knows the thieves. I also think he doesn’t know that he knows them,” Craig said.
He was surprised when, instead of pressing for more information, she changed the subject.
“So what makes you think that I’m in danger?” she asked.
He hesitated. “I watched the video surveillance from the subway. There’s nothing in the footage that proves anything one way or the other, but the guy in the hoodie did seem to be following you.” When she didn’t say anything, he frowned and said, “Now tell me why you think someone’s after you.”
She inhaled slowly, staring at him. “You have professional reasons why you can’t tell me certain things. Well, I have a profession, too, and I often speak with people in confidence. I have no information that would help you identify whoever’s out to get me, even if I were to break a professional confidence. All I have is something my...client overheard.”
“Kieran, I don’t know what you think your obligation to your client is, but if you’re holding back information that could help stop or solve a crime—”
“I’m not!” she snapped, cutting him off.
“I wish you’d reconsider and tell me what you know.”
“Oh, so my professional obligations aren’t as important as yours since I’m not some hotshot FBI agent? I already told you, I don’t know anything that would help solve the crime, and whether you think I’m worthy or not, I will not betray a professional confidence. You have your secrets, and I have mine.”
“Like your brothers’ sealed juvenile records?” he asked.
She froze. “How dare you?” she said angrily, leaping to her feet and staring down at him. “They never did anything that truly hurt anyone else. They turned the tables on a few bullies, stole candy a few times. They never used violence, much less a weapon. They were a bunch of kids who suddenly lost their mother and started acting out. My brothers are good people, Craig Frasier. And if you try to go after them, I can promise you a fight.”
“Good people—and good thieves,” he said, smiling slowly. “Here’s the thing. I’m a government agent. I need a warrant if I want to search a place. I need to go by the letter of the law. But I sure would love to see Jimmy McManus’s phone without leaving a paper trail. Like I said, good people and good thieves.”
“You want one of my brothers to steal Jimmy’s phone?” she asked, confusion replacing the anger that had animated her features only a moment ago.