“Well, they all looked like they’d seen a ghost.”
“And you didn’t ask them what was bothering them?”
“No. I just figured it was either drugs or Julie was back in foster care or it was something to do with the Broomes. Look, I’m a waitress at a crummy diner, okay? If people want to talk, I’ll listen, but I’m not into poking around things that don’t concern me. I have enough of my own problems. If that makes me a bad person, then I’m a bad person.”
“You’re not a bad person, Cheryl,” said Robie. But he was also thinking something else. “You got any time off coming up?”
She was clearly surprised by this question. “Got a week of vacation left.”
“You have family out of town?”
“In Tallahassee.”
“I’d go see your family in Tallahassee.”
Kosmann stared at him as Robie’s meaning sank in.
“Do you, do you think that I’m…?”
“Just take the vacation, Cheryl. Take it now.”
Robie laid a twenty down for the coffee, rose, and left.
CHAPTER
42
ROBIE CLIMBED BACK in the car and slid out his earwig and power pack, stashing them in the console between the front seats. He looked over at Julie, who gazed straight ahead.
“You okay?”
“I’m okay.” She stared over at the diner. “That place was almost more of a home for me than my real home. Certainly more than any of the foster places.”
“I can see that,” replied Robie.
“I liked to do my homework there. My mom would get me pie and let me drink coffee. I felt really grown-up.”
“And I guess it was nice being with her.”
“I liked to watch her work. She was good at it. Juggled all these orders. And she never wrote anything down. She had a great memory.”
“Maybe your brains are genetic.”
“Maybe they are.”
“The night your parents were killed they left the diner at around six. But they didn’t show up at their house until hours later, and with the gunman. I wonder where they were in the meantime?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, how about the Broomes?”
“They live in an apartment in northeast.”
Robie put the car in drive. “What can you tell me about them?”
Before she could answer, Robie’s phone buzzed. He put it up to his ear. “Robie.”
“Where the hell are you?”
It was Vance.
“Doing some digging, like I told you.”
“You need to get over here.”
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“First, I’ve got the press all over my ass. Second, I’ve got MPD, a joint terrorist team, and Homeland Security trying to tell me how to run my investigation. Third, I’m just pissed.”
“Okay. Give me an hour and I’ll be there.”
“Is that really the best you can do?”
“It really is.”
He clicked off and hung a left, working his way over to Union Station. He abruptly pulled off, parked, and undid his seat belt.
“What are you doing?” asked Julie.
“Give me a minute.”
Robie stepped outside and shut the door behind him. He made the call.
The office of Blue Man answered. He was patched directly through.
Robie told him what Vance had told him. “You might want to pull some strings at DHS, the joint terrorist squad, and MPD to get them off her back,” he said. “Otherwise this might get even more complicated real fast.”
“Consider it done,” said Blue Man.
Robie slid back in the car and started it up.
“Top-secret stuff?” said Julie, looking at him with an unfriendly gaze.
“Yeah, that I get. But even if I were sleeping with her I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Why?”
“Something called being a gentleman.”
“Now you really sound old.”
“Compared to you I’m ancient,” replied Robie.