“May we come in, ma’am?”
Instinct said no. Her apartment had already been broken into and then she’d allowed the police to search through her apartment. This felt like one violation too many. Maybe she was being paranoid but she felt justified in hesitating.
She saw elderly Mrs. Walker emerging from the elevator and pushed past her uninvited guests into the apartment’s third-floor common hallway. “Good evening, Mrs. Walker. I’ve been burglarized. These law-enforcement agents have just told me tenants may want to take extra precautions.”
“Oh, my dear child.” Mrs. Walker came toward her. “Are you all right?”
Georgie took the woman’s hand in both of hers. “Yes. Just thought you should know. You see, I’ve got law enforcement with me now.” She half-turned so that the elderly woman could get a good look at her visitors. “But thanks. Good night.”
When Mrs. Walker had turned away Georgie shot the three persons standing on her threshold a triumphant glance. She had taken back a little control of the situation. “You may now come in.”
“Thank you. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”
Surprisingly, the FBI claimed to know nothing more about her break-in beyond the fact of it. If they’d spoken with D.C. police, they weren’t letting on. Nor would they answer her questions of why they were interested.
Special Agent Clinton made her go through the list of routine questions a second time. Finally, after taking twice the time it had taken the police to gather the same information, he said flatly, “Do you mind if my partners look around?”
Georgie shrugged from her perch on the arm of her sofa. The two other agents had been covertly eyeing her place for the past half hour.
“You say nothing of irreplaceable value was taken. Yet your apartment was ransacked with ruthless efficiency. That would suggest that someone wanted to find something specific. Or wanted to frighten you.”
“Consider it mission accomplished.” Georgie had had the same impression and yet the D.C. police had said she was lucky. No one had torched her place or left graffiti or randomly damaged her belongings. Some definition of lucky.
“Do you have many enemies?”
The question surprised Georgie. “I don’t have any enemies.”
“Everyone has enemies.”
“The last enemy I knew about was Howie Berkowitz who claimed I stole his science project idea. That was eighth grade. I doubt Howie’s still thinking about me.”
Mr. FBI didn’t smile. “You work with politicians and other people who are very sensitive about how they are portrayed in the media.”
“How do you know what I do?” She had mentioned she was a photographer, not whom she photographed.
He smiled. “Googled you on the way over.”
“Nice. Did you get an enemy list, too? Maybe try antonyms for Georgiana Flynn.”
He smiled. “A sense of humor is good. Means you’re not that shook up.”
“Don’t believe it.”
“So, what could this person or persons have been looking for? Did you take compromising photos of some pol or a dignitary?”
“I’m not paparazzo. Think New York Times not tabloid.”
“All the same, you are in the unique position to have even accidentally snapped a picture that the subject might not want circulated.”
“If you know something I don’t then you’d better tell me because the only thing I’ve noticed is that whoever broke in didn’t take anything of value except to me personally. My cameras and computer equipment are expensive but replaceable.”
“What about your photographs? Where do you keep them?”
“In the Cloud, like everyone. Everything, including editing, is done digitally these days. I don’t have a room of deteriorating celluloid, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
“If someone was looking for photos you took last week at the Russell Senate Office Building, where would this person need to look?”
“In hindsight. There are no pictures.” Special Agent Clinton looked skeptical. “My camera malfunctioned. I didn’t realize it until the event was over.”
“Don’t you carry several cameras, in case something like that happens?”
“Yes. But I didn’t notice a problem because my favorite camera seemed to be working just fine. It turns out the microchip was corrupted and didn’t record the shots I was taking. I didn’t know that until I got home and tried to download them.”
“What did you do with the corrupted chip?”
“I—wait a minute.” Georgie stood up. “There’s something going on you know about that I don’t, right? What’s this all about?”