Her eyes widened. “Anything I can do,” she assured him.
“We realize we’re taking a stab in the dark here, but a little less than two months ago you sold a no-contract cell phone for cash. We’re hoping against hope that you remember who bought it, since very few people use cash these days,” Craig explained. “I know it was a while ago, but...”
Bailey frowned, and then she gasped. “I do remember.”
“You do?” Mike asked, stunned.
“A complete asshole! That’s why I remember,” she said. “Plus it was the only phone I sold that day.”
The manager, standing behind her, said, “Now, Bailey, we don’t talk about our customers that way.”
She turned to look at him. “Not in front of them, but I’m trying to help the FBI.”
Apparently, that made it all right, because Rowe shrugged and backed off.
Bailey gave her attention back to the two agents.
“Seriously, such a jerk. So demanding, making all these special requests for time and data, and all for the cheapest phone we carry. It took forever, and then not even the courtesy to say thank you. Boy, did I wish I hadn’t been behind the phone counter that day.”
Craig glanced quickly at Mike.
“Was he a tall, dark-haired man?” Mike asked.
“Man?” Bailey said, surprised. “It wasn’t a man. It was a woman.”
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
DESPITE THE FACT that someone wanted her dead, Kieran reached the end of her workday and counted her blessings. The biggest, of course, was that she was still alive.
On top of that, she’d been to see Bobby, and he was doing great.
She’d managed to rewrite her report and make it seem that she had added to it when she had really only rearranged a few lines.
Tanya Lee Hampton, according to a call from the public defender’s office, had been reunited with her children, and while the state was still going to press charges, her husband had said that he wouldn’t testify against her in court. Why such a man had suddenly decided to act in a decent manner, Kieran wasn’t sure. Apparently all he wanted now was a divorce, which Tanya was happy to give him.
She shut down her computer, picked up her coat and purse, and joined Marty Salinger, who’d been reading magazines in the reception area. He flushed at being caught reading the newest People magazine, but she just smiled and didn’t say a word.
Marty was a likable guy, and she was glad not to be alone. She knew that both Mike and Craig carried their weapons in waistband holsters in the small of their backs; Marty wore a vest, and his holster and gun were on his hip, visible when he rose to set down the magazine.
“Hey,” he said. “You’re ready?”
“I am, thank you,” she said, and couldn’t help glancing at the magazine.
He glanced at her and then flushed again. “I love movies, and I don’t get a lot of leisure time.”
She smiled. “Did you read about all the Hollywood remakes coming up? So ridiculous. Some of those movies shouldn’t have been done once.”
His face brightened. “You’re so right!”
Jake rose to say goodbye, and she got the feeling that he and Marty might have done some talking, since Jake was a movie buff, too.
“Me first,” Marty said, stepping out into the hall ahead of her. He kept her behind him all the way to the car.
He had a little trouble getting out of the parking space, but she pretended not to notice.
“Sorry, I don’t get a car too often,” he told her. “In all honesty, this is only my fourth time on guard duty. I do work in the field, but the older, more experienced guys get most of the real action. I’m on my way, though. I got to partner with Craig when Mike was out recuperating.”
He said that with the same kind of pride a contender for an Oscar might have felt.
She smiled. “Congratulations.”
“Mike has twenty-four years with the Bureau, and Craig has over a decade.”
“They must like their jobs,” she said.
“It’s not a job,” he said seriously. “It’s a way of life.”
They reached Finnegan’s, and of course he gave her very explicit instructions on how she was to exit the car and allow him to block her as they walked in.
She looked around.
Declan and Kevin were behind the bar, and Danny was working the floor with Debbie and Mary Kathleen.
Jimmy was at one of the bar tables...with Gary Benton. She stifled a groan. The other tables were full, too, and the bar itself was crowded.
It was a typical happy hour, but on a Monday, it would thin out soon enough.
“See anything out of place?” Marty asked.
She shook her head.
“Okay, good. But don’t forget, I’m still on duty,” he said gravely.
“Okay,” she said, looking around. The only empty seats were in the dining room. “I’m going to go help out behind the bar. Want to watch me from there?” she asked, pointing to one of the tables.
“I’d rather hang around the bar, where I’ll be close by in case I’m needed,” he said. “You have any nonalcoholic beers?”
“Of course,” she told him, smiling, “but we also have coffee, soda and iced tea.”
“I should look like I’m drinking,” he decided. “Nonalcoholic beer.”