CHAPTER FIFTEENI decided to swing by Beltsville on the way back to the office, to see if I could catch the elusive Mr. Simons at home. As I slid behind the wheel of my car, my phone rang. It was Reed Duvall.
“I’ve done a bit of poking around,” Duvall said. “The Defenders are a fractious group. Some of its members have been known to be, shall we say, injudicious in their behavior.”
“Are there any in particular who are especially injudicious?”
“I couldn’t say. Don’t have much to go on, do I? Just what you told me the other day.”
“Here’s something more.” I filled him in on my discussion with Odessa Jones, including a description of the tattooed man she saw skulking around her car in the dark.
Duval murmured his understanding. “I’ll do some more digging. See if anyone looking like that ha
