Chapter 40

Jack made it downtown to the Miami field office in less than fifteen minutes. Andie met him in the main lobby and took him

up in the elevator. It was just the two of them.

“Have you tried reaching out to Zahra?” asked Andie.

“I thought you didn’t want to be in the middle of this.”

“I don’t. But I’m worried sick about that little girl.”

“Me too,” said Jack.

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out. The building wasn’t officially open on weekends, but the basic job description

for FBI special agents was fifty-hour weeks, minimum, so the entire floor was active. Andie led him to the conference room

but didn’t join the meeting. Jack took a seat at the table with Agent Logan and Andie’s boss, Todd Tidwell, the assistant

special agent in charge. Tidwell began the meeting.

“Your client is a fugitive, Mr. Swyteck. We hope we will have your cooperation.”

“I’m as concerned as anyone about Yasmin,” said Jack. “But my client violated a state court order to transfer custody. That’s

not the kind of abduction case that triggers FBI involvement. So I’ll ask you the same question I asked Agent Logan at the

town house: What’s this really about, and why is the FBI all over it?”

“It’s a federal case,” said Tidwell. “We have reason to believe the child has been transferred across state lines.”

“They haven’t been gone long enough to even reach the Georgia border,” said Jack, stopping short of calling it bullshit .

Neither agent responded. Jack leaned closer, tightening his gaze across the table. “Look me in the eye and tell me this has

nothing to do with Ava Bazzi.”

Again, there was no response, at least not immediately. When Tidwell finally did speak, his tone changed to the voice of reason.

“This is a dangerous situation, Jack. I’m looking for a path forward. One option is for you to make accusations about Ava

Bazzi, in which case we can all sit here and listen to the A/C whistling through the overhead vents. Or we can make this productive

and keep a child out of harm’s way.”

The common ground was compelling. “What do you have in mind?” asked Jack.

“Child abduction is a crime. A heinous crime.”

“Agreed.”

“As I’m sure you’re aware, a lawyer can be disbarred—or worse—for counseling or assisting a client in conduct that is criminal.”

“As I’m sure you’re aware, this lawyer doesn’t need to be threatened to do the right thing.” Jack didn’t overdo the sarcasm, but Tidwell deserved

it, having made a remark like that after his offer of an olive branch.

“I’ll accept that,” said Tidwell. “So far, our tech agents have been unable to detect a signal from Zahra Bazzi’s cell phone,

much less pick up calls or texts. At some point she’ll have to contact someone. We believe it will likely be her lawyer.”

“I’ve heard nothing from her.”

“But when she does call, we want to be in a position to spring into action.”

Jack could read between the lines. “Are you asking me to consent to a wiretap?”

“Only until she calls you.”

“Which could be days or weeks,” said Jack. “The answer is no. I’m a criminal defense lawyer. Zahra Bazzi is not my only client.”

The ASAC sighed. “That’s what Andie said you would say.”

“Wait. You talked to my wife about a wiretap?”

“She does work here.”

“I’m aware,” said Jack. All too.

“We were hoping you would prove her wrong.”

“Let’s put a pin in this conversation,” said Jack. “I need to speak to Andie.”

“What about?”

“I don’t need your permission to talk to my wife.”

The ASAC couldn’t argue, and Agent Logan followed him out of the room. Jack struggled to find the right approach as he waited.

He flashed to Andie’s confession of her plans to become a single mother, and thought of how far they had come in trying to

navigate the difficult terrain of their marriage. But as much as Jack tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, it sure

looked like his wife had lured him downtown to a meeting with the FBI without the full story.

A minute later, Andie entered. She stood with her back to the door, choosing not to join Jack at the table. He spoke first,

trying to keep the accusation out of his voice.

“You said you couldn’t meet me at home because I was putting you in the middle.”

“And you agreed with me.”

“Yeah. But you didn’t tell me you were already in the middle.”

“It was sort of implied, don’t you think?”

“You could have at least given me a heads-up that the FBI wants to tap my phone.”

“That’s something for you and Tidwell to work out, not the two of us.”

“Tidwell said he discussed it with you before I got here, and you told him I would say no.”

“I told him any criminal lawyer would say no. It was hardly a ‘discussion.’”

“And I’m hardly just any criminal defense lawyer.”

“I realize that.”

“Do you? Tidwell also schooled me on the ethical rules that prohibit a lawyer from counseling a client on how to evade capture

by police. Did you also discuss that with him, Andie? Did you think I needed to be reminded of that ?”

Her back was against the door, and her body language seemed to say, Guilty as charged .

“It’s not that I don’t trust you to do the right thing, Jack. With all this talk of wiretaps on your phone, I was afraid you

might say something that could be pulled out of context and come back to hurt you.”

Jack wanted to accept that explanation, but he needed a moment.

Andie exhaled sharply. “Remember when you first raised the idea that the State Department’s dossier on Ava Bazzi could be

fake?”

“What does that have to do with—”

“Please, just listen. You said the State Department was using me to convince you that Ava Bazzi is alive. Remember how mad

I got at you?”

“Oh, yes. I remember.”

She swallowed hard. “You told me you were sorry.”

For a moment, Jack thought she was looking for another apology, but she was suddenly contrite—genuinely so.

“I’m sorry now. Very sorry. Can we call it even?”

Keeping score was what had killed Jack’s first marriage, but he supposed that “even” was better than “game, set, match.”

“Apology accepted. Let’s call it even.”

“Thank you.”

An awkward silence followed, as Jack wrestled with the question of whether it was okay to hug an FBI agent on government property.

“Should I tell my ASAC to come back?” she asked.

“Not yet,” said Jack. “Here’s the deal. I think Tidwell is right about one thing: at some point Zahra will probably call me.

I won’t agree to a wiretap on my phone. But I will do everything I can to encourage her to turn herself in or, short of that,

tell me where she is.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

“In exchange, you’re going to tell me what the US government is negotiating for, and why it’s so damn important for the FBI

to control the story of whether Ava Bazzi is alive or dead.”

“I can’t do that,” she said with a pained expression.

“Yes, you can, Andie. Because you care about this little girl as much as I do.”

Their eyes met and held. For another minute, maybe longer, Andie stood at the door, silent. Finally, she took a seat at the

table across from Jack.

And they talked.