Chapter Sixteen
Zoey sat at her desk with her eyes trained on the door, wishing she’d arranged to meet Major Riley somewhere else. She’d managed to avoid Dixon most of the day, but he could show up any minute and she wasn’t interested in discussing her theories about Mitchell’s death with him.
Not that she had any workable theory. Mostly all she had was a hunch that Mitchell had left a clue in the letter he’d left behind. A clue meant for her and she was determined to sort it out, hopefully, with Major Jack Riley’s help. Like she’d conjured him, he poked his head in the partially open door. “Major Granger?”
“Come in, please. And it’s Zoey.” She motioned for him to sit. “Thanks for coming by.”
“Happy to.” He stepped into the room and pointed at the door. “You want this open or shut?”
“Closed is good.”
He shut the door and settled into the chair in front of her desk. “I would have invited you to my corner of the building, but there are a lot of gatekeepers. It’s definitely easier this way.”
Zoey cast a quick look at his card that she had positioned on the corner of her desk and read the single word under his name. “Intelligence, like if you tell me what you really do, you have to kill me?”
He assumed a super serious expression. “Absolutely, but I don’t think I was even supposed to tell you that much.” He broke into a smile. “To be honest, most of what I do is pretty boring. Analyst stuff.”
She wondered if that was really true, but played along. “Quite a change for you.”
“It’s definitely been an adjustment from running ops in the field, but I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Zoey wanted to ask him about his experience running a Delta Force unit, but she suspected like most soldiers who’d worked in Special Forces, he wasn’t big on sharing. Besides, as interested as she was in his service, she’d asked to meet with him for another reason entirely. Before she could get to the reason for their meeting, she was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in,” she called out, scrambling for an excuse to get rid of Dixon. But it wasn’t Dixon. Lieutenant Louden strode in and started walking toward her desk, but he stopped abruptly when he saw Major Riley.
“I’m sorry,” Louden said. “I didn’t realize you were in a meeting.”
“It’s okay. Major Riley, this is Lieutenant Louden, General Sharp’s assistant.”
Jack reached his hand out to Louden who stared at it for a moment before accepting the handshake. “I know Major Riley,” Louden said. “Nice to see you, sir.”
“Of course you do,” Zoey said, remembering Sharp was Jack Riley’s godfather and probably knew most of the general’s staff. “I forget everyone around here is connected in some way. Lieutenant, how long have you worked for General Sharp?”
Louden shuffled in place as if he was uncomfortable to be in the spotlight. “For a while now, ma’am. The general and I have developed quite a productive working arrangement.”
Odd way to phrase it, but Zoey understood what he meant. It wasn’t unusual for an officer moving his way up the ranks, like Sharp had, to single out other soldiers to be part of his inner circle and support them along the way. If she’d been more interested in setting down roots than seeing the world, she imagined she would have been by Sharp’s side all along as well. As it was, she’d benefitted plenty from Sharp’s at-a-distance assistance over the years in the form of several below the zone promotions.
“I brought the files you requested,” Louden said, handing over a sealed envelope. “Are you going to want the conference room again this afternoon?”
“No, not today.” Zoey knew she should schedule interviews with the higher ranking officers who’d used the Darcy Agency, not to mention set up a re-interview of Donny Bloomfield as soon as possible, especially in view of Sharp’s admonition to bring this matter to a close, but she wasn’t up for spending the afternoon sitting across from Rook, acting as if nothing had happened between them. Not yet.
Louden looked at the door. “If you don’t need anything else then.”
Zoey dismissed him and waited until the door was firmly shut before she resumed her discussion with Jack.
“He seems like a nice guy,” Jack said. “Has he been helping you find your way around?”
“He’s been great. This place is so big I forget what a small world it can be. Louden worked with the general all these years, you and your sister are both Sharp’s godchildren. Did I hear correctly that your father served with General Sharp?”
“You did. They were both part of the Ranger unit that led the invasion of Grenada. General Sharp received the Medal of Honor for saving my dad, along with the rest of their unit when they were ambushed by the resistance forces.”
“Wow, I had no idea. I mean I’ve seen the medal, but he doesn’t talk about it. Grenada, huh? That was a long time ago.” She marveled at the fact she’d never heard the story of Sharp’s heroism. There were a lot of soldiers who would’ve traded on the telling, but he had never breathed a word of it as far as she knew.
“Yep. My dad was barely out of West Point and had just finished Ranger training. It was his first assignment and he wound up dropped in a hot mess, pinned down between resistance fighters. Sharp risked his life to draw enemy fire and saved all but one man from a certain death. Dad and the rest of the guys who served with him still call him Mr. Hero whenever they get together. Sharp hates it.”
Zoey filed the story away, determined to look up the details at some point as a way of gaining further insight into her mentor, but for now she seized on the mention of the Rangers to turn the conversation back to her original purpose. “Thanks for telling me about this. I don’t want to keep you longer, but I had a question about the Rangers I was hoping you could help me answer. Do you happen to know Colonel Nicholas Mitchell?”
“Isn’t he an instructor at McNair?”
“He was.” Zoey hesitated before blurting out, “He committed suicide last night.”
“You’re kidding. That’s horrible.”
Zoey nodded, as the memory of seeing Mitchell’s body in a pool of blood and brains came flooding back. Words couldn’t convey how horrible it truly was, so she only nodded in agreement. “This is going to sound like a strange question, but do you know if Colonel Mitchell was ever part of a Ranger unit?”
If Jack thought the question was odd, his expression didn’t show it. “I don’t think so. I mean I don’t pretend to know everyone who is, but I do know of him and I think I’d know if he’d been a Ranger. Are you investigating his death? Have you looked at his file?”
She didn’t know the answer to the first question. Did investigating Mitchell’s death fall under her mandate to sort out the Darcy Agency mess? If it did, surely she had the right to talk to anyone she thought might have valuable information and share information she had. She wasn’t entirely convinced that was the case, but Sharp hadn’t given her much guidance other than she needed to “wrap it up.”
“His file is on restricted status,” she said. “And it has been for at least the last few days, but he left a note. I’d show it to you, but I don’t have a copy.” She took a breath before plunging ahead. “It was addressed to me.” She reeled off a summary of the points in Mitchell’s letter, ending with, “He signed off with the motto, ‘Rangers lead the way.’ I checked his public profile, but I don’t see anything about having served as a Ranger. Even if he was a Ranger, it seems a bit odd, but if he wasn’t, then I think he was trying to tell us something.”
“Like a coded message?”
“Exactly, but I’m not equipped to figure it out. I thought if he was a Ranger, then at least I’d have somewhere to start.”
“Where is the letter?”
“I don’t know.” The last time Zoey had seen it, the tall, leggy blonde on Rook’s team had been slipping it into an evidence envelope. Several times that morning, Zoey had contemplated texting Rook to see if she could get a copy so she could study it some more, but reaching out to Rook now after she walked out on her last night felt weird.
But Jack knew Rook. Zoey remembered the way the two of them had kidded around at Addison’s party. Maybe he could get the letter from her.
But this wasn’t his case. He had his own work to do, but the voice in her head prompted Zoey to blurt out, “I think Rook Daniels has a copy, but I can’t ask her.” At his questioning look, she said, “Long story. But if you asked her, maybe she’d give you a copy.” A few beats of silence passed and she had a feeling she was losing him. “That letter is the key to his death and…”
This was it. Time to decide if she was going to tell him everything or just enough bits and pieces to get him to acquire a copy of Mitchell’s letter. The letter would be valuable sure, but if she told him the rest, he might be able to help her sort through the information she and Rook had gathered so far and determine what to do next. Since Rook wasn’t around to be her sounding board, she needed someone and he was in intelligence after all. She took a moment to organize her thoughts and then started to tell him the story of the late night call to the police from the Ivy Hotel. She told him everything, from how much Dixon’s annoying presence bothered her to her dissatisfaction with the lack of guidance she’d received.
When she finished, she stared at him and waited for a reaction. She didn’t have to wait long. His drawn expression told her he believed some, if not all, of what she’d told him, but she could tell he was also conflicted.
“And you’ve been talking to witnesses?” he asked.
“Yes, but we’ve only scratched the surface. I could use your help. I know you have your own work, but if there’s any way you could help me get a little of the information I need to put this to bed, I would appreciate it.”
“Don’t you have a team assigned to work on this?”
Zoey thought about her “team.” Dixon, who she’d planned to ditch as soon as possible. And Rook. Rook had a team, but they reported to Rook, not her, and so far, she wasn’t getting any information from Rook’s team. “It’s just me. Look, I know you probably have better things to do, more important things, but I sure could use the help. If you’ll just point me in the right direction and sit in when I re-interview Donny Bloomfield, that’ll do. Okay?”
Jack looked at the stack of files on her desk and raised his eyebrows in question. “Yes,” she said. “That’s part of it. Go ahead, take a look.”
He pulled the files toward him and flipped the first one open. His expression didn’t change, but she detected a subtle increase in the pace of his breathing as he flipped through the pages. “Are these officers who used the agency?”
“Yes. Those are the repeat customers.” She pointed at another stack. “The one-offs are over in this pile.”
“Some of these officers are very powerful people. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Want to? No, but I don’t see that I have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
He was right. She could disobey Sharp’s orders and refuse to work on the case, a move that would send her career tanking. Of course, confronting some of the people on this list might have the same effect, but at least she’d have answers. Mitchell had been in trouble, and she’d ignored his cry for help. Now he was dead and if she didn’t follow the lead he’d left, his death would be on her conscience for the rest of her life.
* * *
Rook paced her office, unable to concentrate on anything else while she waited for Eric to crack the code he’d found in Mitchell’s letters.
“You’re wearing a hole in the carpet,” Lacy called out from the doorway.
“He said a few hours and it’s been four.”
“It’s been less than three hours total and we had to get the computer, that was one. He’ll be done any minute. Genius takes time.” Lacy picked up the coffee mug from the edge of her desk. “No more of this stuff until we have some answers.”
Rook started to protest, but Lacy was right. She was so amped up on caffeine and adrenaline she was due for a crash any moment. She needed something to keep her mind busy until Eric was done. “Can you try to reach Major Granger again?”
“I’ve called twice, but she’s been in meetings. Have you tried sending her a text?”
Rook sighed. She’d called Zoey several times since she’d insisted on leaving last night, but all she got was the canned outgoing voice mail message that came standard with every phone, and her texts had gone unanswered. She’d resorted to having Lacy try to reach her, but apparently that was a dead end too. Zoey was either cutting her out of the investigation or cutting her off personally or both—neither of which were good. She started to insist Lacy try her one more time, but the sound of Lacy’s desk phone ringing cut her off. “Maybe that’s her.”
“Hang on.” Lacy picked up the call from Rook’s desk. “Daniels Agency. How may I direct your call?” A few beats of silence passed and Lacy shook her head in Rook’s direction. “Yes, Senator. She’s right here. One moment.” Lacy punched the hold button and held out the phone. “Senator Newman. His office has just been informed that a grand jury has been convened in Columbus to look into the death of Sheila Edgar.”
“Talk about bad timing. He needs a lawyer.”
Lacy shook the handset. “Uh, last I checked you were a lawyer.”
“A real lawyer. You know, the kind that actually goes to court and does lawyer things.”
“Dammit, Rook, he needs you. Even if he’s looking at criminal charges, make that especially if he’s looking at criminal charges. He’s going to need you to handle the fallout.”
Rook shot a look at the office door. “I can’t leave right now. What if Eric finds something or Zoey—Major Granger calls?”
“It’s an hour flight. I’ll book you a private plane. You’ll be there in no time, hold his hand, and fly back in the morning or tonight if you can stay awake that long. Take Harry and then Harry can stay over and babysit.”
Rook took the phone. She barely got two words out before Newman’s panic took over. What if an arrest warrant was issued? What if the sheriff showed up at his office or, God forbid, one of the many functions he had scheduled with his constituents this week?
She let him ramble on for a few minutes, but cut him off when she couldn’t take it any longer. Lacy was right. It would be much easier to calm him down and control the damage in person. As much as she trusted Eric’s expertise, she also believed he’d exaggerated a bit when he said he could write a program and crack a code in a few hours. Taking care of Newman might be the perfect solution to her growing impatience at not having answers and not hearing from Zoey. Decision made, she injected her voice with calm and said, “Senator, I don’t think you have anything to worry about, but I’m going to fly out to help you through this. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
By the time Rook combed her hair, brushed her teeth, and squirted eye drops in her eyes, George was waiting to take her and Harry to the airport. On the drive, she tried one last text to Zoey, abandoning all pretense that she was trying to get in touch with her for professional reasons.
I’ll be out of touch for a while. Miss you. I have no regrets. Hope you don’t either. Talk to you soon.
She spent the rest of the ride to the airport pretending she wasn’t waiting for a response, which was just as well since none came. It was for the best. She needed to focus on Senator Newman’s problems and then clear her head for whatever Eric found. The next few days were going to be busy and she needed to be at her top form, not mooning over some infuriating woman, even if that woman was super attractive, captivating, and one of the best kissers she’d ever met.