Chapter Seventeen
Mac drove steadily, weighing his options. Tess was asleep or pretending to be. Her eyes were closed and the dark shadows underneath and in the hollows below her cheekbones indicated exhaustion. What a shitty day. Two people had tried to kill her today and it was his fault. Both times he’d asked her to lie for him and then failed to protect her. He still felt nauseous from seeing Jessop hold that revolver to her head. The cloying scent of gasoline didn’t help.
Maybe Tess was right not to trust people. Trusting him had almost got her killed twice.
His first plan had been to go into the Field Office in Salt Lake City, but what he absolutely needed was to secure the scene at Jessop’s farmhouse and take this hard drive to Quantico as fast as possible.
He dialed the number for the closest resident agency in Pocatello a few miles away. He used Tess’s earbuds so she couldn’t overhear the other half of the conversation, just in case someone said something classified. Despite the hour, he got straight through to the senior agent there.
He introduced himself. “I need you to take over an investigation of a fire and self-inflicted gunshot fatality near Kodiak.” He explained what had happened and told the guy the investigation it was in relation to.
The agent listened carefully, then said, “I really need to question you and the other witness.”
“We’ll both make full statements at Salt Lake City. I need to get this evidence to the lab in Quantico ASAP. Lives may depend on it.”
The agent backed off. Probably didn’t want to waste time arguing with an ASAC. The guy was going to need all his patience to deal with the locals.
“Any known white supremacist sympathizers amongst the local LEOs?” The FBI tried to keep tabs, but with over eighteen thousand law enforcement agencies in the US it was up to local forces to maintain their own checks on whom they employed. A 2006 internal FBI report had warned about increasing incidences of white supremacist groups infiltrating law enforcement—ghost skins, people who avoided overt displays of their true beliefs in order to be hired into positions of power, and to influence investigations and proceedings from the inside.
Some days Mac was freaked by the direction the country was taking. It made him more determined than ever to fight for what he believed the American dream stood for. It sure as hell didn’t involve the KKK or their ilk.
“Sheriff out there has a reputation for being tough but fair. Some of his deputies are less…discerning, shall we say. But aside from the usual reports of excessive force”—which, whether true or false, pretty much came with the job—“we haven’t heard of anyone in particular being a problem. Why?”
“Someone tipped Jessop off that I worked for the Bureau. Talk to the Field Office about sending Evidence Recovery Teams. I want that place locked down and gone over inch by inch. HQ will okay any extra help you require.”
“If you’re in charge of the task force looking into the murders in DC you’re a long way from home. You think there’s a connection to that case and the Pioneers?”
Mac didn’t want that information leaked either. “All I know is when Jessop found out who I was he pulled a gun on me and my companion. Then when we got away from him he poured gasoline around his home and it went up in flames. Then he shot himself. We were damned lucky to get out alive.”
The agent swore.
“I don’t want anyone outside the Bureau knowing what happened and making any leaps. We need to keep what we discover quiet so we can round up these people before anyone else gets hurt.”
Dylan Walsh was his next call. “Any developments?” he asked.
The guy yawned. “Other than me catching a couple of hours of sleep? Nope. Nothing.”
Mac checked the clock. Seven-thirty p.m., nine-thirty back east. Sleep was always sparse on these big investigations. He didn’t bother to apologize. “Any new murders?”
“Not yet.”
Well, that was positive news. Mission focused criminals rarely stopped on their own, but if the killer discovered Jessop was dead perhaps they’d go to ground and give the FBI time to figure out their identities.
“I need to know who Henry Jessop late of Kodiak Falls, Idaho, spoke with on the phone tonight, and how he found out I was FBI.”
“Don’t I need a warrant for his phone records?”
“Yep. But the guy tried to kill me and then set his home on fire with him inside. Pretty sure it was to destroy evidence, possibly pertaining to these DC murders although it isn’t fully established if he’s involved yet. I think you’ll be able to obtain a warrant.” He shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Tess. She appeared to be asleep.
“Did Eddie Hines give you this lead?”
There was a note in Walsh’s tone that alerted him that something had happened.
“Nope. We drove past Kodiak Compound on the way to Salt Lake City and stopped. We met this guy Jessop at the compound and he invited us to dinner at his neighboring ranch. He was sympathetic to the Pioneers so I figured it was worth the time to accept his invite. Why?”
“We?” Walsh asked instead of answering.
“I bumped into Eddie’s sister at the prison. She agreed to wear a wire for us. Somehow he knew she was working with us. He attacked her.”
“Same sister you went to see last night?” Walsh said casually.
“Yup.”
“She with you now?”
“Uh huh.”
“I see.”
What the fuck did that mean?
“Can she hear this?”
“Nope.”
“Look, boss, something just came in on the wire courtesy of the US Marshals Service—whom I seem to remember are not your biggest fans.”
One of them might have tried to deck him during the Minneapolis terrorist investigation, but tempers had been frayed after terrorists had killed two marshals.
“Eddie Hines escaped about an hour ago,” Walsh told him. “The prison thinks he had outside help.”
Crap. Mac thought hard. Could Eddie’s attack on Tess have been a setup? Could she have slipped Eddie something that had enabled him to escape? And at the farmhouse she’d been alone with Jessop when Mac had gone to search the bathroom…the thought flitted reluctantly through his mind. Except it didn’t make sense. The prison guard had searched her thoroughly—Mac had watched and wanted to punch out the asshole. And Mac had given her his backup weapon at Jessop’s farm. If she was in league with Jessop she could have put a bullet in Mac’s brain and gotten rid of his body and the rental vehicle, and disappeared. No one would have ever known what happened to his foolish ass.
“The sister isn’t the leak, Dylan.”
“If you’re sure.” His fellow agent sounded doubtful.
Dammit. Once again Tess was coming under fire just for being part of the Hines family. Or was he being blinded by the pretty looks and sweet smile? Maybe she was outsmarting him every step of the way and he was too stupid to know it.
“Well, if anything happens to me,” he told his buddy, “you know who to question first.”
He glanced across at his passenger and she was no longer asleep. Her eyes were fixed on his in a penetrating stare full of betrayal. He hung up.
“It’s not what you think, Tess.”
Her lip curled a little.
“Eddie escaped.” He watched a wave of fear wash over her features and wished he didn’t have to be the one to break the bad news. “The prison thinks you might have slipped him something to help make that happen.”
Her eyes widened in understanding, then narrowed in anger. “After what he did to Ellie I want him to rot in hell and never be released.” She hugged her arms around herself. “He attacked me.” Her hand rose to her throat. “He threatened to come after me and do horrible things. He’s the last person I want to see out of jail.”
“He won’t get anywhere near you, Tess. Hell, look, we can’t even get to DC and we’re flying commercial. Eddie has no chance.” He reached over to take her hand, but she pulled away.
Her smile was bitter. “You don’t know that.”
“I won’t let anything bad happen to you—”
“Like you protected me at the prison? And again at Jessop’s? Forgive me for not believing you’re going to protect me when twice you’ve put me in the line of fire, and twice I was almost killed.”
Mac stiffened though it was true. “Marshals will catch him long before he gets to DC.”
“I’m not some clueless young thing you can sweet-talk into thinking everything is going to be okay, Mac. You are aware what I’ve lived through. So, if I want to be worried what my deviant brother might do to me, I will. If I want to be worried that the authorities will somehow try to accuse me of helping him escape despite it being bullshit, I will. I’ve seen how the system works. I know innocent people get caught in the crossfire. Literally and figuratively.” She crossed her arms over her chest and set her jaw. She stared out the window and he saw her reflection in the glass. Scared. Vulnerable. Resigned.
Dammit.
He should call his boss with an update, but he’d rather go to him with a bunch of answers than a bunch of questions. As head of the task force Mac had a lot of autonomy. It was time to call in some favors.
He dialed Lincoln Frazer who was more connected than anyone else he knew. The man answered at home. “Know anyone with a private jet who can pick me up in Salt Lake City and fly me to Quantico, ASAP?”
A dog barked in the background and Mac thought he heard a woman’s laughter.
“Did I call at a bad time?” he asked curiously.
“No.” Frazer cleared his throat. “There are people I can ask about a jet, but why are you in Utah when you’re supposed to be running a task force out of DC?”
“I am running a task force out of DC. But I decided to pay Eddie Hines a visit in prison this morning—after which he decided to escape.”
Fraser swore.
Mac went through today’s escapades again, ignoring Tess’s tense silence whenever he mentioned her involvement, keeping a careful eye on the road for deer. Totaling this car would top the day off nicely.
“You have the computer hard drive?”
Mac flicked a glance in the backseat. “Yup. Jessop was communicating with someone on a website called One-Drop-2-Many on the Tor server, but I couldn’t see the conversation. Could have been innocuous.” As innocuous as any hate site.
“Let me make a few phone calls. I’ll see if Alex Parker or Ashley Chen can give us some help with that site. It’s possible if we move fast, whomever Jessop was communicating with won’t realize it’s been compromised. What’s your plan?”
“To go into the Field Office in Salt Lake and make a statement. Catch the first flight I can back to Quantico and then drive to DC. Tonight, if possible.”
“You sure the sister isn’t involved?”
“As sure as I can be.”
Frazer was silent for a long moment, maybe hearing all the things he couldn’t or wouldn’t say. “Call me again after you make your statements and I’ll update you on the flight situation. One thing, don’t let that hard drive out of your sight for any reason.”
Chain of evidence was vital, as was getting this thing back to the lab. “I don’t intend to.” He hung up and rubbed his hand over his face.
“Want me to drive for a while?” Tess offered.
“I’m fine.”
Dark circles shadowed her eyes, but the day was far from over.
“We need to stop at the Field Office to make statements about what happened at Jessop’s.”
She huddled deeper into her jacket. “Won’t I get in trouble for leaving the scene?”
“You followed the instructions of the senior lawman on the scene.” He reached over and gave her arm a squeeze, trying to ignore the fact that touching her eased something inside him. “Just tell them what happened. I’m working on getting us out of Salt Lake City as soon as possible after that.”
She swallowed and shifted away from him. She was tired and she was pissed and, frankly, he didn’t blame her. “I just want to go home.”
So did he. Before this asshole killed anyone else.
* * *
It was Tess’s first time inside an FBI office and she hoped it was the last. She’d been there for several hours, going over and over the same details. The agents questioning her had maintained surly, unconvinced demeanors throughout. They didn’t like the fact she’d left the scene, they didn’t like the fact she’d visited her brother the same day he’d escaped from prison, they didn’t like the fact her last name used to be Hines.
She didn’t like it either.
They seemed convinced she had something to do with Eddie’s escape but the idea of him being out there, hunting her, was terrifying.
“When was the last time you visited the Idaho property?” asked the agent whose expression suggested she had a permanent bad smell stuck in her nostrils.
“I told you. I never went back there until today and that was a spur-of-the-moment decision because of the snow storm.” Tess’s mouth was parched and she was in desperate need of a drink of water. She refused to ask for anything from these people.
The woman leaned back in her chair and tapped her pen on the pad of paper. Tess had already signed a written statement. “Why’d you hold onto the property?”
“My adoptive mother bought it.”
“She have alt-right tendencies, too?”
Fire seared her bones. Tess leaned over the table. “Do not insinuate anything sinister or evil about Trudy Fallon. She was the best of people—better than you with your ingrained prejudice and lack of empathy.”
The other agent in the room tapped his partner on the arm and the female glanced at the screen of his laptop. Her eyes widened. Tess assumed they’d found a picture of Trudy.
What would it have taken to persuade them she wasn’t a bigoted extremist if Trudy hadn’t been black? Had her mom known how much adopting them would change the narrative of Tess’s and Cole’s lives? Probably. Trudy wasn’t just smart, she was wise.
“My mom was all about facing the past and changing it into something better rather than letting it beat you down. I didn’t realize she’d kept the land until after she died.” Trudy’s will declared Tess manage the property until Cole was twenty-one. Then it became both of theirs to do with as they wished. Tess assumed the provision was so that she’d eventually be forced to tell him the truth about their parentage.
It was past time.
A swell of emotion expanded in her throat and made it impossible to speak. She missed her mom. It hadn’t been a year yet and the ache of loss still cut deep.
The throbbing in her head had started an hour ago, intensified, and wasn’t going away. It felt like there was little person inside her head, stabbing a knife into the back of her eye. She cradled her skull and closed her eyes.
“Are we done yet?”
The woman harrumphed and checked her notes.
“I’m a witness, not a suspect, right?” She pushed her chair back. “So, I can go, correct?” Tess stood, trying to project confidence not cowardice. Obviously, they were trying to delay her for some reason, but she was pretty sure that unless they arrested her she was free to go. “Where’s ASAC McKenzie?”
The woman gave her another sour look, but the guy relented. “Let me escort you out and I’ll try and find him for you.”
Tess nodded, but then held her skull and squinted through one eye.
What a day.
Following the one agent with the other on her heels she almost bumped into Mac who was walking along the corridor joking with another couple of agents. He seemed so perfectly at home in this environment, she would have rolled her eyes if she hadn’t been in so much pain. There was no way he struggled to fit in anywhere.
He caught her by the shoulders and gave the other Feds a stern look. “You okay?”
“No. I have a raging headache,” she said between gritted teeth. “And I’ve had enough of being interrogated. I want to leave. Now.”
“You were questioning her this whole time?” His voice was sharp as he turned to the two agents who’d interviewed her.
“She’s part of the white nationalist movement that might be involved in—”
“Tess is not part of any white nationalist movement.” He sounded exasperated.
“She was a member of the Pioneers—”
“She was goddamned ten years old at the time of the raid.” Mac didn’t raise his voice, but his anger was obvious.
Despite the fatigue and pain something inside her melted.
“She left the scene of a crime—”
“She was with me. Was I supposed to leave her behind?” Mac planted his hands on his hips. “If she hadn’t come with me she’d have been disobeying a federal law enforcement officer. You ever heard of being stuck between a rock and a hard place, Agent Coats?”
Coats, whose name Tess hadn’t known, wasn’t done. “It was important to make sure we had as many answers as possible if we’re going to run this part of the investigation effectively.” The woman wasn’t backing down even though she sounded defensive.
“So why aren’t you on your way to the farmhouse, interviewing people who might actually know some of the answers to your questions?” Mac asked.
“Because they were having more fun torturing me instead,” Tess bit out. She was feeling snippy and irritable.
Mac examined her closely and then moved her until she stood beside a bench. “Sit down while I find you something for the headache.”
She could fall in love with him for that alone. She nodded, keeping her eyes closed as she leaned her head back against the cool wall.
She could hear him talking heatedly with his colleagues, but she zoned out. She didn’t care anymore. She was done.
“Here.”
She looked down as he slipped two red tablets into her palm and handed her a cup of water from the dispenser.
“Thank you.” She swallowed them and got a refill before tossing the cup in the trash.
“Let’s go.”
She followed him out to the Jeep and he opened the door for her. It was close to midnight, and the night was as cold and miserable as she was.
“Are we going to the airport?” She wanted to go home, wanted to sleep, wanted to forget she’d ever had the stupid idea to come to Idaho.
He grimaced. “We have tickets on the first flight out in the morning. Turns out all the people I know with private jets are busy.” His eyes crinkled. “So much for contacts.”
She didn’t like the way her heart did a little dance of joy when he smiled like that so she looked away. Going into an FBI field office had been a big reminder of who Mac really was.
“I vote for finding a motel near the airport and grabbing a few hours’ sleep,” he said easily.
“I agree.” Sleep hadn’t come last night or the night before. She’d dozed for maybe an hour. The pounding in her skull was starting to lighten up in response to the painkillers and she breathed deeper. Storm clouds hung heavy overhead and she figured it was likely a weather headache. Her skull was her own personal barometer. The stress and lingering stink of smoke and gasoline didn’t help.
Mac headed toward the airport but most of the signs showed “No Vacancies.”
Her headache receded enough for her to open her eyes without pain. Mac went to change lanes and they both jolted when a horn blasted from behind.
“Shit,” Mac exclaimed. “Sorry.”
She glanced at him anxiously. His eyes were red-rimmed and his mouth was grim. Despite his indefatigable attitude exhaustion dragged at his features, but he was too stubborn to admit it. He’d been driving for hours and presumably hadn’t slept much lately either. After ten minutes of driving around they finally spotted a place with a vacancy. He turned into the parking lot and pulled up outside the dingy looking office.
The place was a basic motel, backing on to the highway. Not the Ritz but not a total dive either. There was a bar across adjoining concrete parking lots. A row of trucks filled one. SUVs and minivans filled the other.
Mac went inside while she waited in the vehicle. When he came back his lips were pinched into a thin line and she noticed the pallor of his skin.
“They have one room left, but it has twin beds. There are three conventions going on in town. Comic-Con, some science gig and a writers’ thing. We can carry on driving around on the off-chance of finding something more upmarket, but frankly…I’m beat.”
“Let’s just take the room. It’s not like we’re going to jump each other.” Despite the fact she found him attractive, there was no way she was dumb enough to become involved with a federal agent.
He grinned despite the fatigue, and one of those dimples came out to play. “You say that now, but this body has been known to drive women insane.” He paused for effect. “Or maybe that was just my ex.” He was grabbing his cell out of the console, “and maybe it wasn’t my body, maybe it was my mouth—”
“Can it, McKenzie.” She smothered a yawn and grabbed her purse and small case. “Even if you were one of the Chippendales I’m too tired to care.” She was so tired she was five seconds away from falling over.
“You sure?” He was serious now.
“You keep to your side of the room. I’ll keep to mine. We’ll survive.”