Norwood stared in disbelief. The pain in his arm and the incriminating gym bag of counterfeit currency were momentarily forgotten. The coins in that second wallet had a current value of more than twenty million dollars. Where did a Secret Service agent get that kind of money? If the private key was on Finch’s laptop, Norwood would find it. If not, then the key must be written down somewhere, because the string of letters and numbers was just too long to memorize. For all the crap that had gone down that morning, twenty million dollars would more than make up for it. Norwood faced a hard decision. Did he keep this knowledge to himself or did he bring in the others? One thing he knew for sure. If he didn’t bring them in and they found out, Trevor Norwood would be as dead as Jonathan Finch.

Chapter 9

Detective Frank Mancini, Director Cory Bradshaw, and Ethel Crestwater sat in the living room of her Arlington home. Jesse Cooper had been sent to his room for the second time that morning.

Ethel had changed into a tracksuit and running shoes to provide credence for her workout ruse. Bradshaw looked like Officer Tepper had described him. His pressed blue suit looked out of place on a man with an unshaven face and bleary blue eyes. He was of medium build with graying hair, and he clung to his mug of coffee like it was a life raft. Mancini and Ethel sat quietly, waiting for the director of the Secret Service to lead their discussion.

Bradshaw cleared his throat. “Well, I acknowledge we all have a stake in this investigation. Frank, the murder is on your turf, and your team was first on the scene. Ethel, we know how protective you are of your roomers, since Frank and I both had that honor in our younger days. But I’ve got not only this murder to consider but also whatever Finch was investigating. Right now, I’m not clear on what that was. I’ll be contacting the Richmond office as soon as we establish our parameters going forward.”

Mancini scowled. “What parameters would those be?”

“What I worked out with Chief Walpole. That you and I share information, but I reserve the right to withhold whatever I deem might compromise another case.”

Mancini shook his head. “Which means I could be wasting time going down a rabbit hole that you know goes nowhere.”

“I promise to let you know if I think that’s happening. I just might not be able to tell you why.”

“And forensics? You’ve flatbedded Finch’s SUV to your garage and sent his body to your morgue. Will you be sharing that information?”