Mortal Ties

THIRTY-EIGHT

THE conversation with Ruben took longer than Rule expected. Ruben had persuaded the president to order the secretary of commerce to visit the sidhe delegation at their hotel under some diplomatic pretext or another. In an hour or two the secretary would arrive and be amazed to discover that some of the delegates were missing. When Rule got off that call, he started to touch Tony’s number when his phone vibrated.

It was Tony. One of his wolves had found the scent, but at a location north and slightly west of the hotel. Did Rule want to check it out?

He did, once he learned where it was. He called Special Agent Bergman and asked her to meet him there. Rule got there first and congratulated young Ed, who was extremely proud of himself and wiggled all over in delight, his tail wagging madly. Ed’s escort—a tall, morose city cop—watched with disbelief. “If that’s not the damnedest thing,” he said. “Damnedest thing I ever did see. I could swear he understood everything I said to him.”

“He’s not a dog, officer. Most of the time he’s a man.”

“Still.” The cop shook his head. “Damnedest thing I ever did see.”

Bergman had one of her people drop her off. She’d had a long night, and it showed in the dark circles under her eyes, but those eyes were bright with anticipation. She knew what this meant as well as Rule did.

Ed had found the scent at a bank.

Follow the money. Lily had said that often enough, and this was something Rule knew. Something he understood. Something the Bureau understood, too. They had excellent forensic accountants.

“I’ll do the talking,” Bergman told him.

“Of course.”

“Yeah, that’s why you called me. You want my badge.”

“Of course,” he said again, this time with the hint of a smile.

She almost smiled back. “Let’s go—and pray one of those tellers remembers something or someone who was a little odd.”

“We won’t be relying on memory alone,” Rule said, pushing open the door and holding it for her. “We’ll want the bank’s records of every transaction at this branch in the past two days, whether through a teller or at the ATM. The scent is probably from yesterday, but it might be as much as two days old. We’ll need names, addresses, everything the bank has.”

She snorted. “You’ve got funny ideas about banks if you think they’ll hand all that over just because we say pretty please.”

“Ruben is getting you a warrant.” Rule glanced at his watch. “It should arrive in about thirty minutes.”

She stopped and frowned. “What does he do, wiggle his nose and poof, I’ve got a warrant?”

“That wouldn’t take thirty minutes. He’s having someone deliver it here.”

“Huh. I’m starting to like working with Unit Twelve.” They’d paused just inside the doors. Bergman reached into her purse and took out a leather folder much like the one Lily used for her ID. “Even if it’s just two days’ worth of names, it’s going to be a long list. These elves could look like anyone, young or old, male or female, right?”

“Right.” Rule slanted her a smile. “We’ll be able to trim the list by eliminating those who’ve had accounts here for several years, but it will still require a lot of resources to check out whoever is left. Which is why I like working with your Bureau. You have resources.”

That time she did smile—the quick, hard grin of a hunter with a fresh trail to follow.

“I think I like you, Special Agent.”

She snorted and strode over to the nearest desk. “I need to talk to the manager.” She slapped her ID down. “Now.”

They’d follow the money, see where it went…maybe to the third floor of a stucco building on the east side of the city.