In the Company of Liars

TWO DAYS EARLIER
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 26

Roger, it’s Jane McCoy.”

“Well, Agent McCoy!” Roger Ogren’s voice, over the phone, is heavy on the sarcasm. He has a thing for that sing-song voice, like it’s endearing or something, and McCoy doesn’t have to struggle for reasons why this guy strikes out with the ladies.

“It’s Jane, Roger.”

“To what do I owe this wonderful surprise?”

McCoy rolls her eyes at Harrick, who smiles.

“I think I know what your murder weapon is,” she says.

Through the phone, McCoy hears feet coming off a table. She has gotten his attention. “I’m all ears, Jane.”

“I was looking at the crime-scene photos you sent over,” she explains. “I see something missing.”

“Missing,” Ogren repeats. “You’ve been to Dillon’s house.”

“Just once.” McCoy looks at Harrick. “There was something-”

“Something on the mantel,” Ogren interrupts. “There’s a dust pattern. Front and center. Something’s missing. You know what it is?”

McCoy takes a breath. “About two years ago, Sam Dillon received an award from the Midwest Manufacturers’ Association. It’s an annual award for representing their interests or whatever. Sam was their lobbyist. It looks like some Academy Award or something-it’s a long, gold thing shaped like some old-fashioned machinery. The base is square, and marble.”

“That’s our murder weapon,” he says, an accusatory tone to his voice.

“I don’t know if it is or it isn’t, Roger, but it’s not in the pictures you sent me.”

“It’s not in our inventory at all.” Ogren is leafing through some papers. “It wasn’t anywhere in the house. She must have taken it with her.”

“Could be.”

“Was his name on it?” Ogren asks.

“Don’t know. Don’t remember. Why?”

“Because if the award didn’t say ‘Sam Dillon’ on it, we might not have noticed it in our search. When we flipped her house. We could have gone right past it.”

“You think Pagone has it at her home?” McCoy asks.

“Don’t know, but I’m not taking any chances.”

“You’re going to search her house again.”

“Damn straight.”

“Roger?” McCoy says, her voice turned up a notch. “Not a word about our bug, right?”

Roger Ogren sighs with disgust. “I’m not going to mess with your device,” he promises. “Hell, don’t takemy word for it-you’ll be able to listen in the whole time we’re there.”

McCoy laughs.

“Thanks, Agent McCoy. You’ve been a real princess.”

“It’s Jane, Roger.” She hangs up the phone and looks at her partner.

Owen Harrick is watching her. “Remind me never to cross you, Jane,” he says.