Chapter Sixteen
In the waiting area down the hall from Aidan’s hospital room, Jamie answered the local police detective’s questions, most of which he’d already answered for two officers before him.
“You sure you didn’t recognize either driver, Agent Walker?”
Elbows on his knees, head hanging in his hands, he absently picked at the bandage on his left temple. “I’m sure, Detective. I was too busy trying to save our lives.”
“Anything else you can remember?”
“As I told your officers, both drivers were white men, early-to-mid thirties. One had a beard, dark; the other was clean-shaven. Both wore sunglasses, Ray-Bans the one, Oakleys the other. Ray-Ban had a ball cap on, Oakley a hoodie. The SUVs were the same make and model—Ford Expeditions, navy blue, early two thousands. Other than the front windshield, the windows were tinted. I’d guess beyond the legal limit. No other individuals in the cars that I saw.”
“That’s a lot of details, and yet you didn’t recognize either driver?”
Jamie was done with this. His head hurt, his body ached, and all he wanted to do was get back to Aidan’s bedside and talk his partner into waking the fuck up. “I remember the details, because it’s my job. I didn’t recognize either driver, because I don’t know them.”
“And they weren’t this—” the detective looked down at the small notepad in his hand “—Eric Hamilton or Terry Altman that you and Agent Talley suspect are involved in your investigation?”
“No, they weren’t Hamilton or Altman. They’re in the wind.”
Gary entered the waiting area, Oscar on his heels, carrying a small file box, and two other agents behind them. “Helms,” Gary said, addressing the detective. “Agent Walker’s been through enough today. He’s already given you more than your average witness.”
“This isn’t an average accident, Gary.”
“Understood, and you have our full cooperation. My agents here—” Gary gestured to the agents behind him and Oscar “—will accompany you, and you’ll have the Bureau’s full resources at your disposal in identifying the dead bodies pulled from the wreckage. Of which there were only two, correct?”
Jamie appreciated Gary’s smooth backhanded verbal slap.
“I’ll want to question Agent Talley as soon as he wakes.”
“Assuming he wakes tonight, you can question him at the field office first thing tomorrow.”
The bulldog-faced detective was not pleased. However, confronted by a wall of federal agents, he conceded. He handed Jamie his business card. “Please call me if you remember anything else.” Helms left with his new FBI escort, probably not what he’d intended, and Jamie couldn’t help but laugh, which in turn caused him to wince.
Oscar knelt beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Brought you a get-well present, of sorts.” He handed him the file box and Jamie removed the lid. Inside were his laptop, tablet, and both his and Aidan’s phones. “I couldn’t bring them back to life, but maybe you can.”
“Thank you,” he said with a weak smile. By the look of the beat-up devices, he didn’t hold much hope for rescuing the data on them, including the clone of Hamilton’s phone. He had spares at the condo but the past twelve hours would be lost.
The other agent put a too-familiar hand on his knee. “Is there else anything I can get you?”
Presented with the opening, Jamie took it. He needed to bring Gary up to speed, and his doubts about Oscar had solidified over the past twenty-four hours. “I’d love a soda and some chips. And another few pain pills, if the doc says it’s okay.”
Oscar squeezed his knee and stood. “Let me see what I can do.”
“What’s going on there?” Gary asked, once Oscar cleared the door.
“You mean your agent relentlessly hitting on me?”
The older man chuckled and took the seat next to him. “Oscar hits on every attractive man or woman who crosses his path. He’s a player, as my nephew would say. I meant, why did you send him away just now?”
Jamie had to approach this delicately. He needed to think like Cruz and Aidan would on how to handle the politics of the situation. Carefully choosing his words, he said, “I know you’ve already questioned and cleared your agents, but—”
Gary held up a hand. “The door was not properly cleared at Jo Ann’s house yesterday, and Oscar’s a better-than-average hacker. With Jo Ann in custody during the last hack, he’s your next best suspect.”
“You’ve already considered this?”
“I didn’t get to be an SAC by being the worst agent in Texas.”
Jamie laughed and winced again, leaning back in his chair with a hand over his side. “Shit. Bruised ribs. Forgot how not fun this is.”
Gary favored him with a sympathetic smile. “Oscar will be back soon with those pain meds, and I’ll keep an eye on him until you two are up and running again.”
“There’s something else we put together during the breach this morning.”
“What’s that?”
“When the breach occurred, all the EMS vehicles left the Port area.”
Gary nodded. “Headed to GNL, that’s right.”
“We think GNL could be a distraction, in whole or in part. We need to be sure adequate response teams remain at the Port. I was going to mention it to Detective Helms, but we didn’t exactly hit it off. I think the order would be better received from you.”
“I’ll make sure he gets it,” Gary assured him, just as Oscar returned.
“Ask and you shall receive.” He handed Jamie soda and chips, but no pain pills. “Doc said you have to wait another hour for more meds.”
“Worth a shot.” Jamie opened the soda and dug into the snack. He was halfway through the bag when Barnes came around the corner with doctors Altman and Griffin.
“Agent Walker.” Dr. Griffin moved ahead of the other two and took his free hand in hers. “We came as soon as Agent Barnes told us what happened. Is Aidan okay?” Despite having been raised in the South with a mother who hugged everyone, Jamie was getting damn tired of all the contact from virtual strangers here. The only person he wanted to have any sort of contact with right now was lying unconscious in a bed down the hall.
“Talley got his head rattled,” Gary answered for him. “We’re waiting for him to wake up.”
“I’m sorry about this,” Altman murmured from where he stood, separated from the rest. “I never expected Terry to be involved in something like this.”
Dr. Griffin’s head snapped to the side. “Really, Henry? How many times did I tell you he shouldn’t be working here?”
“Terry wasn’t living up to his potential. I thought working in the lab would motivate him to reenroll and finish his PhD.”
“That backfired,” the woman spat.
From their interview with her on Sunday, Jamie knew Dr. Griffin wasn’t a fan of Altman, but her claws were out and extra sharp today. He wasn’t sure where the added animosity came from. He doubted it was mere concern for his partner. Angling for his job, maybe? Hiding something herself?
Altman spread his hands. “I made a mistake. Is there anything I can do to help fix it?”
Jamie withdrew his hand from Dr. Griffin and straightened in his chair, fighting not to cringe in pain. “Did you show him a picture of Jo Ann?” he asked Todd.
“Not yet. Dr. Griffin insisted we rush right here.”
“Pull it up on your phone,” he told Todd, since his was dead in the box.
“Here you go,” Todd said, handing Altman the phone.
Recognition dawned on the doctor’s face.
“You recognize her?” Jamie said.
“I thought her name was Emily. She and Terry dated off and on. Nice girl. They met at GNL during one of the times Terry helped me with a project. She’s involved in this too?”
“We think she’s responsible for the security breaches.”
Altman gasped. “They were working together? Did she bring him into this?”
“More likely the other way around,” Oscar said. “They were working with another man, Eric Hamilton. Do you recognize that name?”
“He’s the fellow from the docks Terry moved in with. Only met him once. Intense guy.”
“And you let your son move in with him?” Dr. Griffin said.
“Terry’s a grown man, Naomi.”
“And you’re still trying to run his life, like you do everyone around you.”
“I’m sorry.” Jamie had had enough of the byplay he didn’t understand. He glanced back and forth between the two scientists. “Is there something more going on here we should know about?”
“They were married,” Todd said, and Jamie understood Aidan’s frequent instinct to strangle Agent Hipster for hiding the ball.
“Is Terry your son, Dr. Griffin?” he asked.
“No,” Altman answered. “I had Terry with my second wife.”
“Four months after our divorce was finalized,” Dr. Griffin snipped.
That explained the hostility, though the tangled web made Jamie’s headache reappear. Rubbing a temple, he glanced again at Dr. Altman. “Hamilton and your son are missing. Do you have any idea where they might have gone?”
“I’m sorry, no. We’ve only spoken a couple times since he moved out.”
“Talk to Jo Ann,” Jamie said to Todd. “See if she has any ideas.”
“There’s a string of no-tell motels out on I-45, on the way to Houston,” Oscar added. “I’ll make some calls, see if anyone fitting their description has checked in.”
Jamie nodded and sank back in his chair, eyes closed against the intensifying headache. The pain must have shown on his face. He heard Gary’s heavy footfalls and lowered voice ushering the doctors out, Dr. Griffin insisting the entire way she be kept updated on Aidan’s status.
“You doing okay?” Oscar asked, sitting next to him.
“Yeah. Head’s just hurting from the feuding lab coats.”
Oscar laid a hand on his back, rubbing his shoulders, and Jamie jerked away. He was deciding between an apology and an argument when chaos erupted down the hallway.
“What am I doing here? Where’s my husband? Where’s my partner?” Aidan’s sleep and brogue-roughened voice rang out, followed by the clatter of metal. “They were in the car with me. Take me to them. Take me to them now!”
Standing faster than he should, Jamie swayed on his feet and was forced to accept a steadying hand from Oscar. Once the world stopped spinning, he hurried down the hallway and entered Aidan’s room behind two nurses and a security guard. Hands out, they tried to calm his snarling partner, who was backed into a corner, holding his IV pole like a weapon.
Jamie moved in front of the nurses and guard. “Irish, calm down,” he said, voice far steadier than he felt.
“Who the hell are you?” Aidan’s autumn eyes were wide with bewildered terror, the whites bloodshot and the rims red from smoke and tears.
“I’m your partner,” Jamie said.
“The hell you are. Tom Crane is my partner.”
“Aidan, you’re at UT Med in Galveston.” He approached slowly, step by careful step. “I’m Jameson Walker. I work in Cyber. We’re newly partnered.”
“Where’s Gabe? Where’s Tom?”
Closing the last few steps between them, Jamie clasped Aidan’s shoulder with one hand and his face with the other, bracing for impact. “They’re gone. Killed in a car crash eight months ago.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You and I were in a similar accident this morning.” He ran a thumb across the matching bandage on Aidan’s right temple. “Things may have gotten a little rattled in there. You’re confusing our accident today with the other one, the one that killed Gabe and Tom.”
Aidan blinked twice, slowly, and moisture pooled in his eyes as the confusion cleared. “They’re gone,” he whispered. “They’re gone, Whiskey.”
Jamie breathed a sigh of relief at the same time his heart broke, glad to have pulled Aidan out of the past but hating to force him into the painful present. He glided his hand from the side of Aidan’s head to the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Irish. It’s just you and me now.”
This time when Aidan fell forward, Jamie caught him, wrapping him in his arms and holding tight.