“Is Rico okay?” she asked.
“He is, but that’s all I can say. I’ll let Detective Holton fill you in.”
Jo breathed a sigh of relief. At least Rico was alive. She still didn’t know if he’d been harmed, or what else had happened since she’d last seen him.
“Can I get you anything?” Buchanan asked.
“More water,” she said.
He smiled. “You got it. If you need anything else, knock on the door.”
“Thank you.”
He left the room, and as Jo gathered her thoughts, she glanced around. It was like other interrogation rooms she’d been in, with the standard-order white walls, table and chairs, and a camera mounted high in the corner, where at any moment someone might be observing her and recording everything she did. She sat for a long while, then ran her hands down her face, picked up the pen and began writing everything she could think of from the moment she’d entered the bank until she’d spoken with Detective Holton. As Buchanan had requested, she was detailed. She had time. Holton would wrap up what he was doing at the bank before he would talk to her, and that might take him a while.
She was interrupted by a tap on the door, and Detective Buchanan entered the room once more.
“Here you go.” He handed her a bottle of water. “You still doing okay?”
She tapped the notepad with the pen. “Working on my notes.”
“Good, thank you.” He stared at her for a moment. “Detective Holton will be here soon.”
“Fine.”
He backed out of the room without another word. She took a sip of water and went back to writing. By her internal clock, at least a couple of hours had passed. She wrote slowly, her thoughts turning to Holton. He’d be comparing notes with the other detectives and interviewers, seeing what each hostage said about the robbery. He’d be looking into their backgrounds, and law enforcement would comb through surveillance video from the entire neighborhood, pinpointing when she and the others had entered or left the bank. He’d have learned as much as he could about her before he entered the interrogation room. Whether she or any of the other hostages liked it, there would be suspicion on them, too. And that got her thinking, wondering about the others in the storage room. Then her eyes narrowed.
She realized that there was something she’d missed.
CHAPTER SIX
Jo put her pen down and stared at the pad and paper in front of her. As she thought back, there was something she hadn’t noticed before. It was understandable. A lot had been going on at the bank, the situation incredibly stressful, even for someone with her background. Stress had been a part of every mission she’d ever been on. However, once she was removed from a particular situation, she was debriefed, and she had time to go over what had occurred. You had a chance to see what you’d missed.
For what had happened at the bank, that time was now. She had to be careful, though, because the mind could be fickle. Although it could validate things to be true, it could also make up things that didn’t happen. She crossed her arms and pictured her morning like a movie in her mind. She went through everything again, from start to finish. Yes, there was something she hadn’t thought of until just moments ago. She was about to make note of it when there was another tap on the door, and Detective Holton came into the room.
“You’re doing all right?” he asked brusquely.
She nodded. He glanced toward her almost-full water bottle.
“Do you need anything else? Coffee, or a soda?”
Jo shook her head. “The water’s fine. Is Rico okay?”
“Yes.” Holton didn’t offer more. “Where’re you staying?”
“A hotel nearby.” If he wasn’t going to be specific, she felt no need to be either.
He had files and a notepad with him, and he plunked them on the table, pulled out the chair opposite her, and sat down heavily. He looked harried, his tie askew. This was probably the first chance he’d had to take a seat since he’d entered the bank a few hours ago. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly as he looked at her.
“I’m sorry it took so long to get here,” he said.
She shrugged. “No problem. You have a job to do.”
He studied her for a moment, then flipped open a file folder. She saw a piece of paper on the top with her photo clipped to it. As she suspected, they’d done their research on her. Holton perused the page for a moment and then looked up.
“You’re ex-military.”
She nodded. “Army and Civil Affairs.” She didn’t hide anything, as she’d done nothing wrong.
“I had to do a little research on Civil Affairs. You were with Special Operations.”
Jo shook her head. “I worked alongside Special Ops teams.”
His eyebrows went up slightly. “Doing what?”
She knew he hadn’t only looked up Civil Affairs—he’d also tried to find out specifics of her assignments. He could hunt all he wanted, but he would find little more on her. Most of the missions she’d been a part of had been highly classified, things that the average person would never know about and even someone with his authority couldn’t touch. If the police had obtained her service records, they would show her military service, some places where she was stationed, and not much else.
“I did a tour in Afghanistan,” she said vaguely.
His lips pressed together. He wanted more, but he could tell he wasn’t going to get it. He flipped the pages of her file dramatically, then closed it with a flourish and set it aside.
“What’re you doing in Dallas?”
“Visiting.”
“Who?”
“Sight-seeing. Nothing much.”
