Too Much Grit: A Theo Ramage Thriller (Book 3) by Edward J. McFadden III

Author:Edward J. McFadden III [McFadden III, Edward J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-01-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Ramage’s postulations were totally wrong, and all the drama and strategizing had been unnecessary. Langdon asked to see Ms. Vitra, AKA Elvira, and she agreed to see them immediately without any explanation.

“Anything for law enforcement,” Vitra said as she motioned the partners toward two seats that were part of the conversation pit before her desk. The desk’s surface was so clean it looked like nobody worked there, and her computer was off, or asleep. A large window behind the desk provided a stunning view of the road and shopping center across the street, and there was a closed door on either side of the desk. Ramage guessed one went to a private bathroom and the other to a conference room. There was modern art Ramage didn’t understand on the wood paneled walls; expansive splashes of paint and photos out of focus. Looking at the stuff made Ramage feel stupid.

Vitra looked exactly like her website picture; long black hair with streaks of gray, a large bent nose, dark bags beneath her eyes, and no makeup. Ramage thought she looked fifty-five, but was probably younger. She took a seat on the couch and said, “Can I get either of you anything? Coffee? Water?”

“No thank you,” Langdon said.

“I’ll take a coffee, two sugars, and milk, not that powdered stuff,” Ramage said. He had an edge in his voice as he took on the role of bad cop.

Vitra smoothed her knee-length skirt and straightened, as if Ramage had broken some protocol. “Certainly.” She got up, went to her phone, and asked her assistant to get Ramage his coffee. As she was doing this Langdon unleashed a WTF face on Ramage.

Ramage whispered, “You’re lucky I didn’t order a diet Fresca.”

The agent sighed.

“So, what can I do for you?” asked Vitra as she sat again.

To Ramage’s surprise, Langdon jumped in off the high board. “Well, Ms. Vitra… or can I call you Elvira?”

Her eyes went wide for the briefest of instants, then returned to their relaxed position. She said nothing.

“That’s your handle, no?” Langdon said.

The question sat out there like an unwanted task. A clock ticked. Air moved through a vent in the ceiling, and the muffled hum of a laser printer bled in from an outer office.

Learning from his mistake with Amir, Ramage dropped a fishing line in the water. “You’ve met with the FBI before, right Ms. Elvira?”

At the second use of her nickname, Elvira pushed her shoulders back, her lips forming a thin red line. “The industry we’re in is filled with thieves and profiteers, Mr. Ramage. Blood is the center of it all.”

Langdon and Ramage waited.

“How can I help you?” she repeated.

Langdon said, “We know you’re in the red market Ms. Vitra, and we—”

Vitra vaulted to her feet, rage and indignation slicing her face. “You know no such thing. If you’ve got accusations to make, we’ve got inhouse counsel you can speak to.” She retreated to familiar territory behind her desk. “Please leave.”

Langdon and Ramage didn’t get up.

“Now!” she yelled.

Ms. Clayborn chose that moment to deliver Ramage’s coffee.

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