A pause, then, “Where in the hotel? I tried you in the room.”
She glanced at Dox. “The restaurant? That’s—” A pause. “I don’t know why you can’t reach Meekler, I haven’t been to the office. Are there other people in the restaurant?”
Another pause. “Can you just answer me? I think you’re in danger. Did you not hear about what happened in Freeway Park this morning? It’s not just about me. They might be coming for you, too.”
Another pause. “I don’t care if you think I’m being paranoid. Will you just stay put? In the restaurant. Near other people. I’ll be there in a few minutes and I’ll tell you more. Okay? Good. Just a few minutes.”
She clicked off and powered down.
Dox called Larison from a burner. “Where are you?”
“About a minute from the hotel. You?”
“Not far behind. We reached Hamilton. She says she’s in the hotel restaurant. I couldn’t reach K., so I don’t have independent confirmation, but there’s no reason to think Hamilton’s lying. Why don’t you pull up and send Manus in to have a look. You stay with the van. It’s not personal, just—”
“I know. I get noticed.”
“It’s one of your charm points. I’ll be right behind him. If it all looks good, we’ll send in Diaz, who’ll be functioning as our bona fides, and we’ll escort Hamilton out.”
“Understood. By the way, we’re passing protestors. I think they’re heading to the courthouse.”
“Yeah, we saw a bunch, too. Schrader’s release and all the denials, I guess. The good news is, it’ll probably draw police resources. Give us a little more room if we need it.”
“Agreed. Call me if anything changes.”
He realized he wouldn’t know Hamilton even if he saw her. “What does Hamilton look like?” he asked Diaz. He handed her his phone. “Here, see if you can find a photo.”
Diaz worked the phone, then handed it back to him. It was the cover page of Hamilton’s law firm website—Hamilton, Barrett & Brown. An exceptionally thin, fiftyish white woman standing between a couple of men who, other than their jowls, looked cut from the same corporate cloth. Long brown hair, arms crossed confidently as she smiled for the camera.
Two minutes later, Labee stopped at a traffic light. “The entrance is on Union,” she said, pointing. “One block up. But see that shop across the street, Fran’s Chocolates? You can access the lobby through there.”
“Roger that. And since Larison is already by the lobby, can you swing around and wait in front of Fran’s? Better to have options.”
“Yes. Be careful.”
He smiled. “I love when you show you care.”
She punched him in the arm. “Get out.”
He cut across the street and went into the chocolate shop. It was an upscale place, the chocolates laid out under glass like jewelry. A pretty brunette was standing behind one of the displays. “Hello,” she said, with a nice smile. “May I help you with anything?”
Dox looked around as though perplexed. “I’m sorry, I thought this was the hotel.”
“Oh, you can access the lobby right there.” She pointed to a double set of wooden doors.
“Well, thank you,” Dox said. “I’m pressed right now, but I hope to be back to sample some of your delicious-looking confectionaries.”
He hadn’t intended any double entendre, but the way she smiled again made him think maybe it had come across that way. “I hope so, too.”