Lee sighed and finished the last bite of his sandwich, leaning back in his chair as he chewed thoughtfully. He expected Robert Terwilliger to call as soon as Amanda and Francine had left his office, but so far the phone had remained silent. He'd spent the past forty-five minutes thinking over what Terwilliger had said to Amanda, doodling on his legal pad, and thinking about how she thought he put too much mayo on sandwiches.
Amanda and Francine came through the door, laughing. He shot them a surprised look. They weren't usually so chummy, but they both seemed in good spirits and Amanda was carrying a shopping bag from Warren's.
"You bought something?" he asked, laughing.
"She got a great deal," Francine said. "There was no way I'd let her pass it up." She set down her purse on Amanda's desk. "We found a few black market goodies in the ladies' section at Warren's."
Lee's brows shot up. "You did?"
"Mm hm. One for sure. We should send the fraud guys down there."
"We will, we will." Lee leaned back in his chair. "I have a plan."
Francine blinked. "Are you going to tell us?"
He chuckled. "Yes. We're going to show up with a fresh batch of Liza Deveaux's dresses tomorrow. I want to throw out a line and see if he bites both hooks."
"You are?"
"We are?" Amanda said, surprised.
"Fabrications is on it now. They've got someone sewing labels into a bunch of dresses."
"Dresses from where?" Francine asked.
"I don't know. But don't worry, I told them they had to be good quality. Liza doesn't make anything cheap."
"She'd better not. She has standards." Francine paused. "You don't need me along tomorrow, do you?"
"No, we'll give Liza a break."
"Good, because I wasn't kidding. I have a ton of stuff to do."
"Did Terwilliger call?" Amanda asked.
"Not yet, but I'm expecting him any minute."
The phone rang just as he finished speaking, and Francine picked it up. "Carrington Textiles," she said. "Mmmhm. One moment please and I'll put you through to Mr Pendleton." She hit the hold button and handed the receiver to Lee.
"Albert Pendleton here," Lee said.
Robert Terwilliger was clearly rattled. "Mr —- uh, we haven't met, but your associates paid me a visit today, and —"
"Oh, of course. Miranda Keene."
"Yes, and some woman who called herself Liza Deveaux."
"That woman is Liza Deveaux," Lee said. Across the room, Francine smirked and exchanged glances with Amanda. "What seems to be the problem, Mr Terwilliger?"
"That's what I'm trying to determine," Terwilliger said. "Why do you have your people checking up on me? I thought everything was going to plan. And this whole thing would be cleared up by Friday."
"It was, it was." Lee cleared his throat. "Look, I'm flying out to DC later today to finalize everything. Can we meet?"
Terwilliger coughed. "What for?"
"To set your mind at ease. Tomorrow, at your office. How does that sound!"
"I, uh — First thing," Terwilliger said. "Eight o'clock."
"Excellent. We'll see you then." Lee hung up the phone and chuckled. "He's definitely rattled."
"Good," Francine said.
"Did you hear anything interesting after our meeting?"
Lee shook his head. "Not really. He left right away." He paused. "I did hear someone moving around in his office when I thought it was empty, though."
"He has an assistant," Amanda said. "She could've been in there."
"Yeah, true." Lee nodded. "Did you see a safe or anything in there?"
"No, but that doesn't mean there isn't one." She leaned behind her desk, tucking her shopping bag in the footwell. "We're meeting him tomorrow?"
"First thing."
Amanda nodded, shrugging off her jacket. "I'll change and get this to the cleaners for you, Francine."
"Oh, no, don't bother. I'll take it in with my stuff. The Agency owes me a few. Fielder spilled coffee on my silk jacket the other day." Francine looked annoyed for a minute, then smoothed her expression. "All right. I have that meeting with Billy, but I'll come find you at three." She waved at Lee. "Ta ta for now, Mr Pendleton."
"What's going on at three?" Lee asked.
Amanda sighed. "Firing range."
"With Francine?"
"She said she'd go with me. Moral support."
"I offered to go with you," he said. "About fifteen times, if I remember correctly." He felt a little hurt, suddenly. He knew it was irrational as soon as he felt it, but he couldn't help himself. He'd cajoled and coaxed and tried to make it fun, and she'd resisted all of it. And now she was going with Francine, of all people?
"I know you did." Amanda hunched her shoulders and turned away from him, scooping up her clothing from the coat rack near the door. She slipped into the vault, drawing the door almost completely closed. Lee followed. "What?" she asked, stepping out of her shoes.
"Why Francine and not me?"
"It's nothing personal," she said, sliding the wool pants over her hips. "But she offered to help me and I said yes."
"I offered to help you."
"I know you did. I know." She handed him the wool pants and reached for her jeans. "It's nothing personal, I promise. Please don't look at me like that." She tucked her blouse into her jeans and stepped into her shoes again. "Oh, look. When Joe first started working at a law firm he took up golf, and he wanted me to go with him, and so we went out on the course a couple of times and he tried to teach me. And it was a disaster. I couldn't do it. I got all tied up in knots trying to do everything he said, and my swing got worse and worse and he started to get frustrated and I got frustrated and we ended up arguing and he ended up taking his friend Brad with him instead."
"I don't do that with you," he said, nudging the vault door open. "Do I?"
"No, But I do get anxious. And you're trying to give me pointers and I just worry it's going to be like that. So when Francine offered today I decided to take her up on it. Sometimes it's better to learn from someone you're not close to. You know?"
"I guess," he said, though he didn't know. He handed the pants back to her and went to sit at his desk.
"Come on," Amanda coaxed, hanging the pants up with the jacket. "Tell me what we're going to do at this meeting tomorrow, and then I'm gonna work on my pitch."
"Pitch, huh? You're down to one idea?"
"I'm down to one idea." She sat down at her desk and leaned her elbows on the blotter. "You?"
"Same," he lied. "It just needs some, uh, refinement. But I've been focused on this case."
"Uh huh," she said, pressing her lips together. He saw the corner of her mouth twitch.
"I have," he said, defensively, his hand tightening around his pen.
"You know, Jamie thinks someone should make a documentary about robots taking over the world. If you're still looking for ideas."
"I've got plenty of ideas," he muttered, wrenching the cap off the pen and then jamming it on again. He didn't know why he felt so testy suddenly. It wasn't her fault he didn't have any good ideas, and he knew he should be glad she was going to the firing range. He'd been trying to get her to go for weeks.
"I was just trying to help," she said. "I live in a house full of what-ifs."
He sighed. "I know you were. Thanks."
"Anyway, tell me about the next part of this plan." She grinned at him. "I want to hear how we're going to hook the catch of the day."