I heard several clicks before I heard a surprised male voice. "Hello?"
"Is this the FBI?" I asked.
"Yeah, it is. Daniel Brennan here. Sorry; I was making an outside call from my desk when you cut in. It must have jumped the switch board. I'll switch you back. It's after hours but you can leave word."
"Are you an agent?"
"Yes Sir, at least for a week or so. I'm retiring. If you want to speak to an agent, you best leave your number."
"No!" I said, too quickly. "I have an anonymous tip."
He hesitated, caution in his voice. "Okay, I guess I can hear you out."
"Are you recording this call?"
"Not personally but I think all calls are somehow monitored. We won't hassle you if that's what you're worried about."
"Are you tracing it?"
"Yea Sir, at least to the area code. I won't lie to you. We're got a new gizmo that does that stuff. Is it a problem?"
"I guess not but please take down all these details. A girl's life is in serious danger." I proceeded to relate the information Martha had conveyed. Brennan didn't interrupt but it still took far longer than I wanted to stay on the line.
"Georgia, not New York?" he asked. I nearly hung up but something in his voice caused me to hang on.
"Yes. I won't explain it but please believe the accuracy of what I'm saying. Time is critical."
"I can see that. Look, here's my cell phone number. It won't be recorded. You have my word. Give me thirty minutes to get started on this Georgia cracker bastard and call me back." He hung up before I had a chance to end the call.
I was at a loss what to do. Finally, I called Betsy telling her I'd be late. I grabbed a hot dog with sauerkraut at a stand nearby and watched the theater crowd exit the latest block buster show. I checked my watch as often as I looked over my shoulder. Finally, sitting by the statue in Duffy Square, I made the phone call. Without preamble he began talking.
"Your Sheriff has an iffy reputation with some of my guys down there and they think they can round up a judge to get a search warrant. Cross your fingers. Otherwise, they can at least sit on his door step and put some heat on the bastard."
"Thank you," I said. Then he shocked me.
"You don't happen to know anything about a murder in Delaware, do you?" I should have played dumb but instead I remained silent, a sure tell as the poker players say. "Sorry fella, I didn't mean to spook you."