Page 39 of The Shadow Friends

“This woman at CDC—”

“There’s no woman by that name working at the CDC. We think the caller might really have been Ingrid. She knows how the Russians operate. She’s familiar with their tools of assassination. She wanted to know if her suspicions were correct.”

Jo looked dazed by all they’d thrown at her. She put a hand to her head, as if trying to stifle an impending migraine. Declan helpfully placed a glass of whisky in her hand. When they had first met Jo, a sip of whisky would make her wince in distaste, but spending time with them had apparently taught her to appreciate the pleasures of a well-aged single malt. She took a gulp, and why not? It was after five, she was off duty, and she clearly needed it. “Why would Ingrid pretend to be someone else?” Jo asked.

“To avoid questions,” said Maggie. “To stay in the background. It’s second nature to all of us, trying to stay in the background. Where we won’t be noticed.”

Jo was quiet for a moment as she absorbed this new round of information. She stared across the deck railing, as if there were answers in the arborvitae hedge surrounding the Slocums’ property.

“Jo?” said Maggie.

“I’m thinking.”

“I know it’s a lot to absorb. We’re having trouble making sense of it too.”

Jo turned to her. “The day I found Karen O’Brien’s body, Ingrid was right beside me. She saw the blade in that woman’s eye, and she knew immediately it was a stiletto. She had the information at her fingertips, as if she’d seen one before.”

Maggie looked at Lloyd. “Did she ever mention this to you?”

“No.” He sighed. “But there’s a lot that Ingrid never told me about her work. Things she wasn’t supposed to tell me. You know that.” He looked at Ben and Declan. “And you too. All those years in the field, all those secrets. It becomes a habit, doesn’t it? Holding back, locking sensitive details in your mental closets. I understood there were things I shouldn’t ask her, things that needed to remain in that closet. It’s the nature of the business. I don’t know the significance of that stiletto, because she never talked to me about it. All I can tell you is Ingrid seemed to go into hyperdrive after she found Karen O’Brien’s body on Saturday. She hardly slept. She’d shut the door when she made phone calls. Then she sent me off to New York Tuesday morning, said I needed to track down the provenance of the stiletto. It was a fool’s errand. She just wanted me out of the way while she . . .” He shook his head. “Actually, I have no idea why she wanted me out of the way. But that’s just Ingrid, always a step ahead of us. Certainly ahead of me.”

That much Maggie could not dispute. Ingrid was usually a few steps ahead of them all.

“We all know she’s quick,” said Jo. “But how did she connect a dead waitress in the parking lot to a case of polonium poisoning?”

Maggie and her friends glanced at each other.

“Obviously,” said Ben, “Ingrid has intel we don’t have.”

“And she didn’t share it with any of you?” Jo turned to Lloyd. “Not even you?”

He shook his head.

“Well, this is a first,” Jo said. “Usually, I’m the only one in the dark.”

Ben took Jo’s glass and splashed more whisky into it. “Now you know why we consider this a delicate issue,” he said, handing the glass back to her. “The fact Ingrid didn’t bring us into the loop means either she doesn’t trust us, or it involves intel that’s so sensitive she’s not allowed to share it.”

Jo stared down at her whisky and seemed to be weighing her next words. “There is another possibility,” she said quietly. “What if she’s done something wrong?”

“Are you accusing her of something?” Lloyd said.

“I’m trying to explain her behavior. You said she suddenly became secretive. Took phone calls in private. She sends you out of town on a pointless errand, and then she disappears.”

“Which is why I called you,” said Lloyd. “I can’t search the whole state of Maine on my own.”

“Okay,” Jo sighed, and set down her glass. “I’ll do my best to find her. But the fact she chose to disappear makes her look guilty of something. It would help my search if I knew why she left. Do you have any idea?” Jo scanned their faces. “Anyone?”

The answer was silence.

“I didn’t want to say this in front of Lloyd,” Jo said to Maggie, “but we need to consider another possible reason why Ingrid might have left.”

The two women stood outside, next to Jo’s vehicle, talking quietly. When Jo had left the house, she’d given Maggie a look, a nod, that said: We need to talk. Now the two of them were huddled together on the sidewalk, where the men could not hear them.

“What if Ingrid’s disappearance has nothing to do with polonium or all that other stuff you were talking about,” said Jo. “I mean, it’s all a bit far fetched, isn’t it? Russian hit men in Maine? Maybe her reason for leaving is personal.”

“Go on,” said Maggie.

“The Slocums. How solid is their marriage?”