FIFTEENMICHAEL MAXWELL ESCORTED Jack Crumbo and Corbin Lacoste into the multimedia room of The Sinbad. The journalists had black bags over their heads but were not bound in any way. The first thing they saw when Maxwell removed the bags was Honey and Leonard, beaming at them from across a wooden table. No one else was in the room.
“Surprise,” Honey said. “We’re alive.”
Crumbo’s mouth dropped open as his eyes adjusted to the light. He knew it was Honey by the sound of her voice, but he was too shocked to speak. Lacoste was in a similar state. They had been under their hoods for nearly two hours.
“Were the hoods really necessary?” Leonard asked Maxwell. “We trust these guys.”
“I’m afraid so,” Maxwell said. “It’s for their own protection. They agreed to it.”
By the time he finished his s
