"And I can't promise what we'll find."
"I know that too."
"Then what do you need from me?"
His answer had been simple.
"I need somebody who knows how to read the paper and tell me what it actually says."
That was something she could do.
So after the luncheon, Naomi had planned to drive to Lake Roscoe, spend the weekend with her father, and review Leonard's documents as a daughter helping her family friend.
Not as a Navy commander investigating a state police agency.
Not as an undercover federal officer.
Not as someone conducting a secret operation.
She was simply going home.
And Derek Malloy had stopped her before she could get there.
Naomi's car was a metallic-gray luxury sedan she had purchased four years earlier.
It was not the most expensive vehicle available.
But she liked its quiet interior, comfortable seats, and reliable highway performance.
She had spent years driving long distances between military installations.
A comfortable car was one of the few luxuries she allowed herself without guilt.
The vehicle also had a manufacturer-installed camera system that saved selected recordings when certain impact or security events occurred.
Naomi had never needed those recordings for anything serious.
Until now.
After leaving the hotel, she had changed out of her formal heels into comfortable black flats suitable for driving.
She kept the elegant polka-dot outfit on because she planned to have dinner with her father at a restaurant overlooking the lake.
He had insisted.
"You're not coming all this way and eating leftovers in my kitchen."
She laughed.
"Dad, your leftovers are better than most restaurant meals."
"Then we'll have them tomorrow. Friday night, I'm buying dinner."
"It's Thursday."
"Then I'm buying Thursday dinner."
Naomi had promised to arrive before six.
At 3:12 p.m., she left the highway and turned onto a quiet state route bordered by rolling green fields.
The road curved gently around the lake.
Traffic was light.
She lowered the music and opened the driver's window slightly to enjoy the breeze.
At 3:27, she noticed a highway patrol cruiser parked on a gravel turnout.
The trooper inside appeared to be looking at his phone or computer.
Naomi glanced at her speedometer.
She was traveling below the posted limit.
She continued driving.
A minute later, the patrol cruiser pulled onto the road behind her.
She did not think much of it.
Then the emergency lights activated.
Blue and red reflections flashed across her rearview mirror.
Naomi's stomach tightened.
She checked the road ahead.
Signaled.
Slowed.
And pulled onto a wide shoulder near the lake.
She placed the transmission in park, lowered the driver's window, and rested both hands visibly on the steering wheel.
She had been stopped before.
Occasionally for speeding when she was younger.
Once because a taillight had stopped working.
She understood the routine.
She also understood that interactions could become dangerous when officers and drivers misinterpreted each other's movements.
She decided to be calm and cooperative.
The trooper approached slowly.
His hand rested near his belt.
He stopped outside the driver's window.
"License and registration."