“Okay, now you’re scaring me,” she said, returning the lipstick to her purse. Then she finally opened up and gave me a few names she’d heard connected to the sex club. New names, which was helpful.

“Listen.” I handed her two of my business cards. “Call me if you hear anything else, and please give me your number too. As soon as this thing is ready to go, I’ll bring you whatever I have. Do we have a deal?”

“That depends.” She fanned herself with the cards. “How do I know you’re the type to return favors?”

I chose my words carefully. “I’m here talking to you because I need you and I know you’ve been helpful to Metro before. That also means I can’t afford to piss you off. Is that honest enough for you?”

She took out a little gold pen, scribbled some digits, then kissed the card. She handed it back to me with a lipstick imprint next to the number.

“Delicious,” she said.

I took the card. “No, you had it right a minute ago—scary.”

Chapter 83

I WAS SURPRISED to hear from one of Tony Nicholson’s attorneys the next afternoon. It wasn’t the bow-tie-and-suspenders nerd from the night of the raid, but someone else entirely. This one sounded even more expensive, with a 202 phone number on the ID. The heart of the heart of the capital.

“Detective Cross, my name is Noah Miller. I’m with Kendall and Burke. I believe you’re familiar with my client Anthony Nicholson?”

“I’ve been trying to meet with your client since last week,” I told him. “I’ve left half a dozen messages for Anthony.”

“At Nyth-Klein?” he asked.

“That’s right.”

“Yes, they represent the LLC and its holdings in Virginia. We’ve taken over individual representation for Mr. Nicholson—which brings me back to the subject at hand. I want to be very clear that I’m making this call at his request, and that he’s choosing to ignore counsel on the matter.”

That got my attention. “How soon can I see him?” I asked.

“You can’t. That’s not why I’m calling. Please listen carefully. What I have for you is a safe-deposit key, if you’d like to come pick it up. Mr. Nicholson says it’s important to your investigation. He also believes that the Metro Police are his best chance of staying alive. He doesn’t want to deal with the FBI.”

I was Googling Kendall and Burke while we spoke. “I’ve already been to Nicholson’s safe-deposit box,” I told him, as the firm came up on my screen. Big, reputable one on K Street.

“Yes, I know. This is in the same bank but a different box,” he said, and my hands stopped over the keyboard. What would Nicholson have in a second box? More important, how could we protect him? And from whom?

“Can I assume you’ll come pick this up today?” Miller continued.

“Definitely, but let me ask you something,” I said. “Why Metro? Why me? Why wouldn’t Nicholson give this up to the Federal Bureau?”