Dust could be heard falling onto the tabletop.
Bax actually looked sick and the senator’s staffers turned white as ice.
John Caddrick stared at her for long moments, his expression a shuttered mask, grey eyes narrowed into calculating slits. She did not back down under that cold, thoroughly reptilian gaze. When the mask unfroze just enough for one corner of his mouth to quirk in a sardonic, unpleasant little smile, she knew her warning had been heeded. She’d have to watch her back; but he wouldn’t try anything else heavy-handed. Not for a while, yet. And if she could produce one live and kicking kid, maybe not ever. Caddrick might be a thorough-going bastard, but he wasn’t stupid.
“I’m glad we understand one another, Senator. Now, I would suggest we study your daughter’s profile for clues, hers and her kidnapper’s, and track each potential gate they might have used.”
“That’s the best suggestion you can make, after an entire night to work on this? Next, I suppose, you will magic Jenna out of a silk top hat?” The scorn in his voice relegated Ronisha to the back of the intelligence bus.
Ronisha narrowed her eyes and bit down on her tongue. You will eat yours one day, Senator, and choke on it raw! I just hope I’m there to watch. “Right now, we’re doing what can be done, regardless of how little you may like it. Since we have not been able to identify either Jenna or her kidnapper from tour records, I suggest we take a look at Jenna’s most active interests.” She ran down Jenna’s dossier. “Historical re-enactment, horseback riding . . . She keeps two horses in a stable on Long Island?”