Simply Lies

Chapter 72

Wilson Sullivan came out into the waiting room at the police station to see Gibson sitting there.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, looking annoyed.

She rose and smiled disarmingly. “I like to keep people on their toes.”

“What’s up?”

“Can we go back to your office?”

He took a long moment to make a decision. “All right, but you have to make it brief. I’ve got a full plate.”

“Let’s go.”

In his office, she sat down across from him.

“Oh, did you hear about Nathan Trask?” he said. “It’s the talk of the police world. No one thought that son of a bitch could be touched.”

“Just shows what happens if you keep trying,” noted Gibson.

“The Bureau must be jumping for joy. Quite the catch for them. Wonder how they did it.”

“Yeah, me too. Speaking of the FBI, Cary Pinker came by to see me.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think he likes me poking around this case. I assumed I didn’t hear from you because he told you to put the kibosh on what we were doing?”

“I don’t work for the FBI,” replied Sullivan.

“So we’re good on that score?”

“I told you from the first there are things you can do to help and there are things I can’t let you get involved in.”

“So how is Pinker? Making progress?”

“He’s working the case.”

“With you?” asked Gibson.

“He’s working his case, and I’m working mine.”

“Fair enough. So look, I wanted to fill you in on what’s happened since we talked last.”

“Okay.”

“First thing, I got canned by ProEye.” She had mentioned this to see his reaction.

“What the hell? I talked to your boss.”

“I know. Apparently somebody else contacted them and they decided to cut all ties with me.”

He fiddled with the pen he was holding. “And what, you think that was Pinker?”

“If you were me, would he not be on your list?”

Sullivan said, “Well, he never mentioned that to me. I would have told him it was a bad idea.”

“Okay, I appreciate that.” She glanced at the old wound on his neck from being injured in the line of duty. “Does that still hurt?”

“Only when people ask about it,” he snapped. “What else? Any progress on the money Langhorne left behind?”

Gibson was about to answer when she started coughing, which became more and more pronounced.

“Allergies,” she gasped. “Water? So I can take a pill?”

He hurried out, and came back in with the water. She drank it while tossing down a vitamin C pill.

“Whew, thanks. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

“Sure. So any progress on the money?” he asked again.

“I think so. He left some clues behind.”

“More than what you already told me?”

“No, but I’ve been giving it some thought and I might have some leads. I did a bunch of legwork on the computer. The guy had a ton of companies and accounts, all of which were cleaned out fairly recently.”

“Meaning he might have been accumulating cash?”

“Yes, either to hold or to use to buy something. I’m going to try to track that down. By the way, when was the last time you were back at Stormfield?”

“Why?”

“I was just wondering if you had found out anything else.”

“The last time I was there was with you.”

She showed her poker face at this lie, and nodded. “Any luck finding Francine or Doug Langhorne?”

“None. When they disappeared, they really vanished.”

Yes they did, thought Gibson. “And no leads on whoever killed Langhorne?”

He shook his head and already looked detached from this conversation.

She stood. “Well, I’ll let you get back to things.”

“Right.”

She left without a single positive thought of Wilson Sullivan in her head.

And here I thought we might have been friends. Or maybe more.

Gibson reached into her pocket and pulled out the plastic baggie in which she’d placed the pen he’d been handling while he was out getting her water.

Let’s find out who you really are, shall we?