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A More Perfect Union by Carsen Taite (14)

Chapter Thirteen

 
 
 

Rook tore her gaze away from Zoey and spoke into the phone, adopting a casual tone like doing so would keep her friend from knowing she’d just been lusting over her Pentagon liaison. “Hey, Julia, I was just sitting here with that liaison from the Pentagon, Major Granger. I’m happy to report, we seem to be working well together.” She shot Zoey a smile, but it faded quickly at Julia’s no-nonsense tone.

“Rook, I need you and your team to get to this address, right now.” Julia’s voice was thick with urgency. “One of the people on your list of interviewees is dead.”

Rook listened as Julia filled her in and then reached for a piece of paper and scrawled the address. After she hung up, she sent a quick text to Blake, studiously ignoring Zoey’s curious gaze. Once she’d sounded the alarms and notified George to pick her up downstairs, she slipped the phone into her pocket.

“What was that all about?” Zoey asked.

“I need to go.” Rook leaned in and kissed her softly. “I’ll call you later.”

“Has there been some kind of development?”

Rook had made a split-second decision she was going to handle this on her own, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a little more information first. “Did you or Dixon wind up talking to Colonel Mitchell this afternoon?”

“No,” Zoey said emphatically. “I mean, he came by my office late yesterday and yelled at me for even trying to talk to him, but I don’t think that counts.”

“Yesterday? Why didn’t you mention that when we discussed him this morning?” Rook shook her head, instantly zooming from zero to furious Zoey hadn’t shared this detail with her. “Never mind. What exactly did he say to you?” Rook watched while Zoey cycled back through her memory and wasn’t surprised when the slow burn of realization hit. “He told you something about the case, didn’t he?”

“He said something about how he knew the students that were involved with the Lorraine Darcy Agency, but he didn’t have anything to do with them. Blamed his name being in their files on the fact he is a hard grader and his students might want to get him in trouble. He sounded like he was posturing a little, trying to keep out of the fray. Why? What’s going on?”

Rook shook her head, and Zoey pressed harder. “You can’t keep me in the dark. This is my investigation too. One way or another I’m going to find out.”

“You’re right,” Rook said, not disguising her annoyance. “We’re supposed to be working together, which is why you should’ve told me he came by your office. I’ll do you one better than you did me. Colonel Mitchell put a bullet through his head this evening, so whatever conversation you had with him was the last. I hope you’re prepared to answer questions about exactly what you two discussed.”

Rook was instantly sorry she’d delivered the harsh words when she saw Zoey’s shocked expression. She sincerely doubted Zoey had anything to do with the colonel’s death, but she had to be suspicious about everyone until they were eliminated, whether she’d kissed them or not.

She’d planned to head to Mitchell’s house on her own, but with Zoey’s revelation that she’d spoken with Mitchell the day before, she had second thoughts. Before she could change her mind, she said, “Come with me, but know this: I don’t care about your rank. I’m in command on this particular operation. Get it?” She didn’t wait for an answer before heading to the door, hoping she wouldn’t regret any of her decisions this evening.

 

* * *

 

Zoey sat in the back of the car with Rook, steaming. She needed to call Sharp, but she didn’t dare make the call when Rook or George, for that matter, could overhear her every word. Damn Rook for trying to shut her out, especially after their kiss. She felt like a fool for letting her guard down.

Rook was on the phone the entire ride to Mitchell’s residence, talking to everyone but her. From the sound of it, she was rounding up an enormous team to deal with any contingency. Zoey started to rethink her decision not to call Sharp, but before she could act on it, the car stopped and George announced they’d arrived at their destination.

Rook started to open her door, but she turned back to face Zoey. “Follow my lead and don’t say anything to anyone without running it by me first. Understood?”

The harsh tone, the bossy words—everything about Rook’s changed demeanor—put Zoey on the defensive, which was exactly the opposite of where she needed to be. She was here as an officer of the Army, a direct report to the Joint Chiefs, and she wasn’t taking orders from a civilian, no matter who she thought she was. She assumed a sharp tone of her own. “No. I’m not here to follow your lead. I’m in charge of this investigation. My bosses might report to the White House, but none of us report to you. If Colonel Mitchell’s death is related to this case, then we can talk about how we’ll work together, but if it isn’t, then the local police can investigate and we can move to the next name on our witness list. Understood?”

For a second, Rook looked surprised at her blowback, but then shook her head. “Okay, Major. Come on in. I think you’re going to be in for a big surprise.”

Zoey scrambled to follow Rook up the walk. The house was a modest two-story with a wraparound porch decorated for spring with newly planted flowers in bright ceramic pots. Zoey was indeed surprised not to see any signs of police activity on the street. Maybe they’d parked in back? The front door had a gatekeeper, a tall, thin man in a dark suit with an earpiece. His lips were moving, and Zoey wondered if he was telling someone they were coming in. Rook flashed her ID and leaned in close to whisper something, after which the man propped open the door and motioned for them to go inside.

The place was swarming with activity. A few men in suits were busy searching every nook and cranny while a huddled group consisting of a woman and two children that Zoey pegged as Mitchell’s family stood in the corner. Rook walked over to one of the men. They spoke in low, whispered voices, and then Rook strode toward Mitchell’s family and took the woman’s hand. “Mrs. Mitchell, I’m so sorry for your loss. President Garrett asked me to give you his condolences. You can be assured your husband will receive a service befitting his command, but right now we need to deal with some housekeeping items. Do you have someone, a family member maybe, that you could stay with for a few days?” At Mrs. Mitchell’s nod, Rook turned to one of the men in suits and signaled for him to come over. “This gentleman is going to take you and your children wherever you would like to go.”

Zoey watched their frightened faces, clearly hesitant to follow the stranger from their house. Deciding it was time to contact Sharp and involve the Pentagon, she pulled out her phone and scrolled to find his number. Before she could connect the call, Rook grabbed the phone from her hand and pulled her into the hall.

Zoey struggled from her grasp. “We have protocols when an officer dies. I need to make some calls.”

“Don’t even think about it. No calls, no texts, no emails.”

“Not your decision to make,” Zoey said, reaching for her phone. “Either you give me back my phone or I’m out of here.”

“What do you plan to do when you leave? This death didn’t occur on a base and it’s not your jurisdiction. It’s being handled.”

“By whom? I don’t see any DC Police.” Zoey pointed to one of the suited men searching the house. “I don’t know who these people are.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to.”

“What about the family? Should we have spoken to them about what happened?”

“They came home and found him already dead. Arrangements have been made for them to give full statements, but not here, not now.” Rook pointed down the hall. “Come with me.”

She took off, and Zoey watched her go, torn between protocol and practicality. Fact was she didn’t know what to do in this situation. For all she knew someone well above her pay grade was already involved. Should she trust that they knew what they were doing, or was not calling Sharp a dereliction of her duty? Either way, it appeared that if she wanted to get to the bottom of why Mitchell was dead, her only hope was to go with Rook and find out what she could.

Rook, face grim, stopped her at the door and shoved a pair of paper booties at her. “Put these on and don’t touch anything. Prepare yourself. It’s not pretty.”

Zoey leaned down to slip the booties over her shoes and nearly slipped. Rook grabbed her hand, gently this time. “Here,” she said, motioning to her shoulder. “It’s easier if you hold on.”

“Thanks.” Zoey held on tight to Rook’s shoulder and managed to get both booties on her shoes. With no further reason to hold on, she let go and immediately felt a sense of loss at the broken connection from Rook’s grounding force. Rook was so in control and in charge, like she visited scenes of violence every day. Zoey pointed into the room. “Is this where he…?”

“Yes. Step carefully and stay right next to me.”

Zoey followed Rook into the room, sweeping her gaze slowly and carefully from side to side to take everything in. The space looked like a study with a large roll top desk against the far wall and bookcases lining the rest of the room. As she looked around, the sour, metallic smell of blood hit her nostrils, but it didn’t entirely prepare her for the gruesome scene that served as the focal point.

The man on the floor lay on his side, a macabre sight. The profile of his face was recognizable as Colonel Mitchell, but the back of his head was a large, gaping mass. Gray matter and blood were splattered to the rear of the chair situated in the exact middle of the room. If she hadn’t met him, she might be able to hold back a reaction, but this man had been in her office only yesterday, pleading with her not to involve him in her investigation. Guilt gripped her, but she’d had no reason to think his entreaty was a matter of life and death. “Did he leave a note?”

“We’re not sure yet.” Rook’s dark eyes bored into her own. “We’re not ruling anything out at this point. We don’t have to stay in here, but I thought it might be helpful if you were present when we went through his desk, you know, in case we find something that you might have special knowledge about.”

“You mean top secret military stuff?”

“Something like that.”

Zoey nodded, but Rook’s words about not ruling anything out played on a reel in her head. Was there some reason to think Mitchell’s death wasn’t a suicide? She wanted to ask, but the presence of the other people in the room gave her pause. “I can look, but I don’t think I’d know if anything he has is important. Where should I start?”

Rook waved at a woman on the other side of the room. “Major Granger, this is Blake Wyatt. She’ll stay with you and process anything you find that might be helpful.”

Zoey assessed the stranger. Tall, blond, and model-thin, Blake wore a skin-hugging midnight blue dress that hit mid-thigh and she looked like she’d come straight from a party. General instinct told Zoey not to trust a civilian, but despite the way she was dressed, this woman’s rigid posture and economical movements screamed some kind of law enforcement and maybe even a military bearing. With no specific reason not to trust her, Zoey decided to play along for now. “Show me what you’ve found.”

Blake led her over to the desk. The roll top was pulled back, and Zoey asked if it had been like that when they arrived.

“Yes. Everything is exactly how we found it. The paperwork I’d like you to look at is there and there.” She pointed at two desk drawers and then proceeded to tug them open with her gloved hands. “I’ll hold the paper while you read. Okay?”

Zoey nodded and resisted the urge to hurry her along as Blake slowly opened the drawers and extracted an envelope from each drawer. She meticulously opened them and pulled out a few sheets from each. Zoey recognized the first one immediately as it bore the seal of the Department of Defense, denoting orders. She motioned for Blake to hold it closer and she skimmed the page and then read it again more carefully. Colonel Mitchell was being reassigned to the base in Kobani, Syria, effective the following day.

“What is it?”

Zoey looked back at Rook who was reading over her shoulder. “I’m not sure.” She had a theory, but she didn’t want to say it in front of the woman. Like a mind reader, Rook jerked her chin at the woman. “I’d trust her with my life. You can speak freely.”

“Let me think about it.” Zoey wasn’t going to be pushed. “Let’s just say this is important and it should be collected. Let me look at the other one, please.”

The second piece of paper didn’t bear an official seal, but was on Colonel Mitchell’s official letterhead and it shocked her from the very first line. The rest of the words were a blurry mess, and she shook her head as if by doing so she could clear the words on the page like shaking a Magic 8 Ball. It didn’t work.

 

* * *

 

“It’s okay.” Rook focused on keeping her voice gentle and soothing, which was difficult considering what she’d managed to glean from a skim of the page. “You don’t need to read it now. Blake, make sure you pack this one up with the other. I’ll meet you at the office.” She started to steer Zoey away, but she stayed firmly in place.

“No, I need to know what it says.”

Rook caught sight of Blake shaking her head, but she knew a simple denial wasn’t going to be enough for Zoey. “Let me have it,” she told Blake who handed her a pair of latex gloves and waited for her to put them on before giving her the letter. Rook read the contents, taking her time to digest each word. Mitchell’s message from beyond was a sucker punch of near revelations. When she finished reading, Rook moved the paper into Zoey’s sightline. “I don’t understand all of this, but maybe you will.” Rook held the single sheet of paper steady, reading the words along with her.

Major Granger,

I don’t know if you realize the Pandora’s box you’ve opened, but now that it’s done, you will have to face the consequences. There really isn’t anything I can say to help except to warn you to trust no one. Anyone who professes to be on your side or offers to be of assistance to you is very possibly an enemy of the state and will likely view you as a threat once you begin to discover the truth.

I’m telling you all of this because despite your current position as inquisitor and the way I reacted in your office yesterday, I admired the fact you took a stand and chose to reveal the dishonesty going on in front of you. But know this: the fraud perpetrated behind the scenes is a thousand times worse than anything the public sees, and the consequences of standing up to the forces that drive it are dire. I did not have what it takes. Maybe you will, but no matter what, you will not escape unscathed.

Rangers lead the way,

Colonel Nicholas Mitchell

 

Rook watched Zoey’s face for signs she’d finished reading, and when her eyes shuttered, Rook handed the paper to Blake and mouthed for her to keep searching. The agents were still conducting their search, and Rook guided Zoey past them until they were at the front door where Harry stood waiting, his eyebrows arched in question. Behind Zoey’s back, Rook shook her head, willing him not to ask any questions. “Major, this is one of my associates, Harry Etheridge. Wait here with him. I’ll be right back.”

Rook strode back to Mitchell’s study and pulled Blake aside. “I’m going to go. I need to get a statement prepared and figure out who’s going to give it.” She gestured at the desk. “You think there’s anything else in there?”

“If there is, we’ll find it.”

“You have access to whatever resources you need. The suits are doing their thing and eventually they’re going to want in here, but I don’t want that letter to leave your sight. Understood?”

“Got it. Are they NSA?”

Rook flashed back to her conversation with Julia in the car. NSA had picked up chatter about the shooting when Mitchell’s wife placed a call to 911, bawling that she’d come home to find her husband lying dead in his study. Because Mitchell’s name was on the list of potential witnesses to be interviewed in the McNair case, whoever was monitoring the chatter ran the information up the line, all the way to Julia who’d sent in the troops, but instructed them Rook’s team would have carte blanche at the scene. She had no idea how they’d circumvented the local cops and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. “Yes, but it doesn’t matter though. We’re in charge. Consider yourself deputized by the president.”

“Deputized is a strong word,” Blake said. “It’s a suicide, not a crime scene.”

“Maybe not, but treat it like it is. Eric’s on his way over to copy all the hard drives. Have him search for any reference to Zoey on any of the computers here at the residence.”

“Zoey?”

Rook silently cursed the misstep. “Major Granger. She’s a key to whatever’s going on.” She pressed on. “Bonus points if Eric can bust the Pentagon’s firewall and connect to Mitchell’s account there. If we assume no one there knows he’s dead yet, we should have a little time to gather what we can.”

“On it.” She waved Rook toward the door. “Go on, we got this.”

Rook walked back through the house toward the front door where Zoey was waiting. She had full confidence in her team, but under normal circumstances she would stay here with them, triaging information as it was gathered. But the circumstances weren’t normal and one of the key pieces of information was Zoey Granger. Whether she knew it or not, Zoey held some piece to the puzzle and it was up to Rook to coax it forward.

Zoey was standing straight and tall, but her hooded eyelids and mussed hair gave away her worry and exhaustion. Rook took her arm again and guided her out of the house and into the waiting car. Zoey didn’t protest when she pulled a blanket from behind the seat and tucked it around her. It wasn’t until Rook told George to take them back to her place that Zoey came alive.

“I need to go to the office,” she said, her eyes wide and darting.

Rook put a hand on her leg. Zoey might be used to seeing the carnage of battle, but this death, so out of context, seemed to have taken her completely off guard. “You’ve suffered a bit of a shock. Let me take you back to my place and get you warmed up and then we can sort out the best plan.”

“There is no best plan. I need to prepare a report.” She gripped Rook’s hand. “Did you get a copy of the letter? They’re going to want to see it.”

Rook stared into Zoey’s eyes. She detected fear, but she also saw a strong sense of determination. Zoey was driven by duty, but if she let a blind allegiance to authority guide her, there was a strong likelihood she would place herself in danger. The backseat of the car was no place for this conversation, so she needed to stall. “The…uh, police need to catalog everything. I asked them to hurry. They should be finished soon so why don’t you wait with me? I need to check in with Julia and she’s probably going to want to talk to you too. We can make the call from my place and then do whatever we need to do after together. Okay?”

Zoey seemed relieved at the suggestion she didn’t have to face whoever with whatever the letter meant on her own. She nodded and sank back against the seat, pulling the blanket tight around her. In that moment, Rook was filled with a strong desire to protect Zoey from whatever came next, whether it was threats from Mitchell or repercussions for not reporting Mitchell’s death to her commanders. Rook only hoped Zoey would forgive her when she learned their investigation had turned in a whole new direction and Zoey was no longer in charge.

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