Missing

Missing

Don Helin

Publisher Page

an imprint of Headline Books, Inc.

Terra Alta, WV

Missing

by Don Helin copyright ©2021 Don Helin All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents, except where noted otherwise, are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any other resemblance to actual people, places or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any other form or for any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage system, without written permission from Publisher Page.

To order additional copies of this book or for book publishing information, or to contact the author: Headline Books, Inc. P.O. Box 52 Terra Alta, WV 26764 www.headlinebooks.com Tel: 304-789-3001 Email: mybook@headlinebooks.com Publisher Page is an imprint of Headline Books ISBN 13: 9781951556426 Library of Congress Control Number: 2020944471

P R I N T E D I N T H E U N I T E D STAT E S O F A M E R IC A

To Elaine, for her love and support—Love always Acknowledgments To Dennis—long-time friend and faithful reader To Cathy, Patti, Ashley, and all my friends at Headline Books. You are the best.

1 Calhoun Beach Club, Minneapolis, Friday, 4:00 p.m.

Zack Kelly stood on the front patio of the Calhoun Beach Club, looking past the noisy rush hour traffic on West Lake Street to the scenic beauty of Lake Calhoun, remembering. He loved the sailboats and canoes, framed by joggers circling the shore. Beach parties, necking in parked cars around the lake, swimming, water skiing, Zack had enjoyed it all.

A mental picture of Bonnie Swenson appeared in his mind when he thought of those fun days. Slender, long blond hair, blue eyes, fetching smile which made you wonder what she’d been doing. Had it been twenty years? So long ago, yet in some ways, it seemed like yesterday. What had happened to her?

On the drive in from the airport, he had passed the house where he had grown up, then around his old high school. He figured he should at least check it out before the reunion. Still looked the same, although much smaller than he remembered.

Guess that’s always the case with schools.

When he reached 36th Street, he turned left and headed over to the lakes area. He had enjoyed all of the lakes in Minneapolis, particularly Lake Harriet and Lake Calhoun. Maybe he decided to come back because the reunion would be held at the Calhoun Beach Hotel. Proms, parties, dances with Bonnie swamped his mind with memories. Would she be there? He hoped so.

When he reached Lake Harriet, he circled the lake – some things you never forget – then went across on the road linking Harriet and Lake Calhoun. When he reached Lake Calhoun, he stopped and stepped out of the car. Stood there, thinking about 5

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the fun times and some not so much fun. Fights with Bonnie over colleges, future plans. Why had they split up? Hard to remember.

Soon after parking his rental car, he found himself on the patio in front of the hotel. Muscle memory led him there.

A voice sounded behind him. “Well, my goodness, Zack Kelly. Is that really you?”

Startled, Zack turned to see a familiar face. It took a moment for him to recall her name. “Jean, Jean Edwards, it’s great to see you again. You look terrific.”

She smiled up at him. Sunglasses pushed back in her hair.

Long black hair framed her face and she looked great in her sleeveless cream-colored party dress, displaying her tanned shoulders. “Been a long time, Zack. Where have you been all these years? And whatever happened to that girl? What was her name? Did you marry?”

“Let’s see. After a year at the University of Minnesota, I had enough and dropped out. Went in the army. Been there ever since.”

“Married? You were a pretty eligible bachelor if I remember right.”

“Ellen. Her name is Ellen. Actually, we got divorced a year or so ago,” She grinned. “Oh, sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be sorry. I wasn’t. How about you? Are you on the market?”

“With you here, I kinda wish I were.” She blushed. “Guess I shouldn’t have said it. I married Freddie Tyson after college.

Became Mrs. Tyson, although I never did the formal ‘Mrs.’ bit.”

“Wheeler dealer, Freddie Tyson? Didn’t think you two would connect.”

“I didn’t think so either, but it’s worked out. We’ve had a couple of kids and are still hanging together.”

“What’s he doing these days? I always suspected he’d be successful.”

“Yep, done well. Owns a chain of nursing homes. The largest one is south of Minneapolis in Richfield. Not quite out to Interstate 494.”

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“Seems to me a good location, probably a primo investment.

I’m sure there are lots of seniors around here, and more on the way all the time.”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Don’t you work for some big deal weenie in D.C.?”

Zack had to laugh. “I’m not sure Admiral Steele would like to be called a big deal weenie, but I guess he is. He’s the president’s national security advisor.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow, what do you do?”

“The admiral has put together a small group to help him cut through the bureaucracy. Lots of that crap in D.C. I help out on the group.”

Jean stopped and looked out at the water for a moment. “I guess I’d like to talk to you about the nursing homes.”

“I suspect with Freddie they are hugely successful.”

She kept looking at the lake, then back at Zack. “They are, but...”

Zack heard a muffled pop. Knew the sound. Shouted, “Gun,” and turned to pull Jean to the ground. He hit the ground and covered Jean with his body, then raised his head to look around.

A few startled people looked around, then over at him. “Get down,” he called. “Gun.” They hit the ground.

A quick look at her wound told him all he needed to know.

She had taken what he thought was a high-velocity round right in the forehead. Had died instantly, but he checked for a pulse to make sure. None.” Goddamnit,” he muttered.

He grabbed his cell and dialed 911. ***** Michael O’Leary climbed over to the front seat of the taxi about 150 yards from the dead woman. No time to congratulate himself. Get the hell out of there. He’d left the cab running, so hit the gas. The vehicle moved out. Not as fast as he would have liked, but fast enough.

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People walked or jogged around the lake. The pop from the silenced rifle had caused many of them to stop and look around.

Probably not enough to realize what had happened.

It took him about ten minutes to drive to where he had left the stolen car. When he made it to the site, he reached around to the backseat and activated the timer. He had set the bomb for two minutes.

Jumping out of the cab, he hurried over to the Plymouth.

Never run, he thought, only walk. Running people looked suspicious. Plus, no one normally suspected anyone driving a ten-year-old Plymouth to be wanted by the police.

He had left the weapon and all of the incriminating DNA in the cab along with the dead taxi driver. Starting the Plymouth, he drove off without speeding. Pulling his hat down over his face, he had to look up to see through the sunglasses.

He had driven about a mile away from the taxi when the bomb blew, almost incinerating the vehicle and, hopefully, all of the evidence. It took him another twenty minutes to drive to the shopping center where he had parked his truck. He felt good.

Everything had worked out exactly as planned.

Once he reached his truck, it took another fifteen minutes to arrive at the apartment building. Driving down into the garage, he pulled into his reserved space. He climbed out of the truck and walked to the elevator, pushed the up button then rode to the fifth floor, Stepping out of the elevator, he walked down the hallway until he reached 5G. He unlocked the door, stepped in, and closed it, then headed right for the kitchen. He reached into the fridge and pulled a beer out. Unscrewing the cap, he took a swig and breathed a sigh of relief. God, it tasted great.

Now he needed to sit back and relax. He turned on the T.V. to see the latest news. It was as he thought, the FBI had arrived to help the Minneapolis Police investigate the shooting. The poor local cops. FBI would run all over them.

He wanted to call his brother and give him the good news, but the FBI would have the National Security Agency checking phone calls, looking for keywords. Nope, he’d just sit back and relax. Now he could congratulate himself.

8

2 Calhoun Beach Hotel, Friday, 5:30 p.m.

It took about ten minutes after Zack had first called 911 for a platoon of blue to land. They began to spread yellow crime scene tape around the scene. An ambulance pulled up, siren screaming.

The orderly dashed over to where Jean lay. Bent down. Checked for a pulse, Shook his head, looked over at Zack, who still had the shakes, and nodded. The orderly covered the body.

She never had a chance. Sadly, he’d seen it too many times in Iraq and Afghanistan. Too damn many. The shrink had told him one of the causes of his PTSD. Never expected something like this to happen here in Minneapolis. At a reunion. How? The police had moved Zack to the manager’s office. Still in a state of shock and hands shaking, he waited for the police to interview him. He’d explained briefly to the first officers to arrive what had happened. Because of the angry mood of the crowd, the police moved him into the office while the coroner removed Jean’s body. He assumed the forensic guys would next go to work, trying to figure out all that had happened.

He thought about Jean. Why her? What had she done? He’d dated her a few times during high school. Nothing serious. A few dances. Couple of parties. The memories brought another wave of sadness. Just the two of them talking. Now she was dead.

Why? His trip down memory lane was broken up by a tall man in a brown sport coat and tan slacks opening the door and striding into the office. He pulled out his badge and showed it to Zack. “I’m Lieutenant Barrington with the Minneapolis police 9

Missing

department. I understand you were talking with the victim when she was shot. Is it all right if I tape our conversation?”

Zack rubbed his eyes. “Not a problem.”

“Okay,” Barrington said. “First of all, who are you and why are you here?”

Zack pulled out his billfold and showed the Lieutenant his military I.D. “I grew up in Minneapolis and went to Washburn High School. It’s been twenty years since I graduated from high school, then I started at the University of Minnesota. Things in college didn’t work out, so I joined the army and haven’t looked back since.”

Barrington glanced up from his notepad. “What brought you to Minneapolis at this time?”

“I received an invitation for my twentieth class reunion.

I’m not sure what made me RSVP to the invitation after all the reunions I’d missed?” He paused for a moment. “Curiosity?

Interest in what old friends are doing now?”

“Is this your first trip to Minneapolis in twenty years?”

Zack shook his head. “My folks still live here, so I get back to see them. They live in Bloomington. I can email you an address.”

“Did you know the woman who died?”

“Jean Edwards. One of my classmates.”

“Any idea why someone would shoot her?”

“None at all. I hadn’t seen her for twenty years. She did tell me she had married one of our classmates, Freddie Tyson.”

“We’re trying to contact him. We’ve called in the FBI. You need to wait here until they arrive.”

Oh, crap, this will be a long afternoon. “Do you know when they will want to talk to me.”

Barrington got a smile on his face. “I never try and anticipate what the FBI might do.”

The door burst open and a heavy-set man in a grey suit, tie undone, burst into the room. “What the hell happened? Someone told me my wife was standing on the patio talking to a guy and someone shot her.”

Barrington held up his hand. “Please, stop a minute. Are you Mr. Tyson?”

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Don Helin

“Fuck ya. What happened?” He ran his fingers through his curly brown hair, turned and his eyes widened in recognition.

“Kelly. Zack Kelly.”

Zack stood and reached over to shake hands. “That’s right.

I’m so sorry about Jean. We were standing there talking and someone shot her. Couldn’t believe it. She was a friend of mine.”

Tyson started to pace. “Who would shoot Jean? She didn’t have an enemy in the world.” Then he slowed. Looked at Zack.

“Wait a minute. Aren’t you in the army? Work for some big deal dude in Washington? You’re the reason,” he screamed. “She’s dead because some bastard wanted to kill you and missed.”

Tyson moved toward Zack, swinging his fists. “You bastard.”

Zack stepped back and raised his arms to protect himself.

What’s with Tyson? Holy crap, he thinks it’s about me? Will others think the same thing?

Barrington stepped in front of Zack. “Stop. We have no reason to assume Colonel Kelly had anything to do with the shooting. It may have been some crazy nut with a gun.”

Tyson stopped, looked at Barrington, eyes wide. “I don’t believe it. No one would happen to shoot a woman on the patio of the Calhoun Beach Hotel. Never happened before. Why now?”

Zack didn’t say anything. Didn’t like the way this was going.

Would he believe Zack? Would others?

Tyson glared at him. “Why did you have the guts to show up now?”

“Hey, Freddie, I received an invitation to the twentieth reunion and hadn’t come before, so I thought, why not?”

“Goddamn it, if you weren’t here, my wife would still be alive.

You bastard, if I had a gun, I’d shoot your ass.”

“Wait a minute, Mr. Tyson,” Barrington called out. “That sort of talk isn’t getting us anywhere. You have no reason to assume Mr. Kelly had anything to do with this. So stop with the accusations.”

Tyson glared at Zack.

Zack had a feeling Tyson was about to come after him, so he moved to protect himself. Could he defuse it before it got out of hand? “Look, Freddie, I arrived here a couple of hours ago. Jean 11

Missing

was my friend a long time ago and we were talking. I have no idea how or why this happened.”

The door opened and a short man with glasses, dressed in a blue suit, white shirt, blue and red striped tie, shiny black shoes walked into the room. FBI. Lieutenant Barrington looked over at him. “And who are you?”

“Senior Agent Martin Hamilton, FBI.” Oh, swell, Zack thought. All I need.

Barrington introduced Tyson and Zack. Hamilton didn’t shake hands. All business. Barrington summarized what they knew so far. “We have removed the body and are trying to find the exact location the shooter used.”

“Mr.Kelly,” Hamiltonasked,“doyoulivehereinMinneapolis?”

Zack shook his head and reviewed for Hamilton what he had already told Barrington.

Tyson broke down and started to cry. “My wife. My wife.

Jean’s dead. Was just alive. Happy. Just saw her.” He stopped and stared at Zack. “You’ve got some explaining to do. Why would it happen right after you got here? Why?” Zack had no reason he could give. He knew right then and there he needed to find out. If he didn’t, this would hang over his head forever.”

Hamilton stepped forward. “Mr. Kelly, I want you to come down to our office. We need to sort this out and do it before anything else happens.”

Zack understood Hamilton’s comments. He had to only look at Tyson. Mad, sad, pissed. And sure enough, he wanted a piece of Zack. That wouldn’t stop until Zack figured out what happened.

“All right. I’ll come with you.” He turned to Tyson. “Freddie, I’m so sorry. Jean was my friend and a great person.”

Tyson stared at him. “Bullshit. I know you were the cause.”

Nothing Zack could do or say to change how Tyson felt. He did need to watch out for what he might do. *****

12

Don Helin

Freddie Tyson sat at his desk at the Shady Lane Nursing Home, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. Eight o’clock.

His wife had been dead only four hours. He glanced at his business partner, Jake Early. “Did you have anything to do with this?”

A solidly built man who worked out and loved to show off his tanned body in muscle shirts. Early glanced up from a document he read. “Hell no. I wouldn’t have someone shoot Jean. How could you even think that? Who do you think I am?”

“Jake, you bastard. You were concerned about what she might say. I told you I’d talk to her and make sure she never said anything. She knew better than to rat us out.”

Early shuffled papers on his messy desk. “Relax, Freddie. I had nothing to do with it. I loved your lady.”

“Yeah, I know you did. Always flexing those damn muscles around her.” Tyson leaned back in his desk chair, which squeaked every time he moved. “Then who did? Someone pulled the trigger and someone authorized it.”

Tyson got a pleading look on his face. “Jake, we’ve been partners for fifteen years and before then, buddies on the football squad. If you know anything about this, you’d better fess up.

Cause if none of us had anything to do with it, then it has to be that bastard, Kelly. Poor Jean happened to be there. An innocent bystander. So tell me. Right now. Fucking tell me what you know.”

Early squirmed in his chair, then straightened. “The boss was big-time uneasy about what she knew and what she might say.

We’ve got too much invested to let it blow up in our face. And Jean wouldn’t leave it alone.”

“Is that what happened? Did the boss point an assassin at Jean?”

Early looked down. Rubbed the muscle on his left arm, then back up at Tyson. “I don’t know for sure, but it’s possible.”

Tyson raised his arms in the air. “Goddamn, he can’t do that.

Jean, Jean …” He collapsed in his chair.

Early looked out the window, muttered, “Maybe we should point the finger at Kelly. You and I both know Kelly is connected in Washington. On some big-ass task force with the president’s national security advisor.”

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“Is that what you think?” Tyson screamed. “Screw Kelly?”

“She’s dead, Freddie, nothing can change the fact. You can’t be stupid enough to go after the boss. So what do you suggest?”

Tyson shook his head. Started to sob again.

Early looked out the window, then began reading his document again.

Maybe he should call the boss. See what he could find out.

Then he thought, hell no, stay out of it. Don’t touch this one.

14

3 George Mason University, Fairfax County, VA, Saturday, Midnight Sean O’Leary entered through the backdoor of the professor’s house, using the key he’d been given along with his instructions.

Knew the professor and his wife were out at a friend’s house. He stood still in the kitchen. Listened. Heard nothing so he moved forward. Passed through the kitchen and into the dining room.

What opulence. Two hotshot professors. Both rich bastards.

O’Leary wanted to grab some of the silver, but the boss would kick his ass, so he moved on. He needed to keep his eye out for cameras. He and his twin, Michael, drove the cops crazy. If one of them happened to get his picture taken, the other was always with people who would swear it couldn’t have been him. Perfect alibis for each other.

The assassination worked out perfectly. They’d make a mint on these two jobs. He had to do his part.

Okay, turn right like he’d been directed. Go through the next room and up a single flight of stairs. When he reached the third door on the left, he pulled the second key out of his coat pocket, slipped it into the lock and opened the door. Heard a squeak as it opened. He stopped and listened again. Didn’t hear any noise.

Nothing. Good.

He walked over to the desk. Looked behind it to the large picture of Churchill. What a fat old bastard. Guess he did some good shit for England.

Found the button next to the ink well on the desk, pushed it, and heard the whir. The painting of Churchill slid to the left for about three feet to expose the front of a safe. He pulled a paper with the combination out of his pocket and turned the dial.

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Damn gloves made his fingers slip, but gloves would keep him out of jail. No prints. No evidence. No fucking jail.

Pulled the door to the safe open. Folders of papers stood neatly stacked inside. He began to sweat. Checked his watch.

Been in here forty-three minutes. Only another seventeen before the guard would make his rounds again.

He pulled out the papers and began to finger through them.

Spotted it. Check the title. Encryption techniques to protect the plan for the next election. He bent over to pick up all of the folders when he heard footsteps. Should have been paying attention.

Fucking guard must have slipped up the stairs.

He started to sweat. Close the safe and get under the desk?

Uh, oh, what about the open door? Should have shut it. Dumb, Dumb, Dumb.

A shadow appeared around the door jam. “Wait a minute.

What are you doing in here? You’re not authorized to be in here.”

O’Leary turned and saw an elderly black man in a blue uniform. “Look, the professor called me at home to bring some materials to him he’d need first thing in the morning.”

“No, that’s not correct. There are standard procedures to handle sensitive material. I should have been advised you would arrive. Now you stay where you are. I’m going to call the chief of security.”

“No, wait, that’s not necessary. This is a misunderstanding.

Let me get my authorization out of my pocket. Show you I’m cleared to be in here.

He reached in his pocket, felt the handle of the gun and pulled it out. Pointed it at the guard. “Sorry, buddy, we can’t have you in our way.”

The guard raised his hands in front of his face. “Wait. Maybe I could be mistaken. Let me call my chief and see if you are authorized.”

“Sorry, but it’s too late.” His finger closed on the trigger. Heard a faint pop from the silencer as the gun jumped. The guard put his hand to his stomach as he fell to the floor with a loud groan.

O’Leary walked around the desk, over to the guard, aimed for his head and put two shells into his skull. “I can’t have you tell people what I look like, now can I?” 16

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He peeked into the hallway. No one there. Didn’t hear anything. Couldn’t take any more time. Need to get out of here.

Now move, move.

He pulled the guard’s body behind the desk, took the folder of papers he wanted, then closed the safe.

Checked his watch. Five minutes after one. He’d taken too much time. Should have been out of the office twelve minutes ago.

He spun the lock, hit the button to put dear old Winston back in place, then checked once more to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind.

He stepped into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind him, hearing the satisfactory click. Forced himself to walk slowly.

He wanted to run like hell, but he tiptoed down the stairs, back through the dining room, then into the kitchen, Sucked in his breath. Heard a voice yelling from the front hallway. “Henderson, why haven’t you answered your text. One o’clock check.”

Heard footsteps going up the stairs. Took a deep breath, glad the guard wasn’t coming into the kitchen. Slipped quietly across the kitchen floor, opened the back door. Don’t take time to reset the alarm. Get out before the security guy found the other guard’s body.

He hurried across the back yard, fighting the impulse to run.

Don’t run. Thankfully, he spotted no dogs.

There had been dogs at the last place, and he had to put one down. He hated to kill a dog. Loved all dogs. He and his brother had two labs. Dogs had to be a lot better than some fucking wife.

They didn’t crap on you. Didn’t spend all your money. And better yet, they loved you no matter what.

He made it to the back alley. Turned and walked down the alley. Just walk, nice and easy. When he reached the street, he turned right and walked toward the car. Okay. Time to report to the boss.

The boss would be pissed about the shooting and O’Leary would have to calm him down. But, he’d gotten what the boss wanted, and better yet he took care of the incriminating evidence.

Project had to be called a success.

17

4 Fairfax County, PA. Saturday, 2:00 a.m.

Homicide Detective Pamela Scott stood in the hallway outside the second floor room, staring at the body of an elderly black man lying on the floor. Damn, she thought, looks like the job of a pro. Shot once in the chest, then twice in the head to make sure. She didn’t like the idea of a pro on her beat.

She glanced at a chubby, white male with the name tag, King.

“I understand you’re the head of security. “Full name?”

His hands were shaking. “Ah, Malcolm King.”

“How many witnesses?”

“Just me that I know of.”

“Okay, what happened?”

“I had just entered the house by the side door when I heard what sounded like a muffled shot.”

“Could it have been a gun with a silencer?”

King’s hands still shaking. “I think so. Maybe.”

“What’s in this room that’s so important someone is going to kill a guard?”

King pulled out a handkerchief and patted his sweating forehead. “Ah, it may have had something to do with the professor’s study.”

“What study?” Scott took a deep breath. Wouldn’t do to push the guy so hard the poor bastard had a heart attack. “Okay, take a minute, then answer me.”

King’s eyes got wide and he stepped back. “The professor and his wife led a project to help ensure the security of the election process for our next national election. You probably remember 18

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in our last election, talk about foreign governments inserting themselves into our election process.”

“I remember,” Scott said. “Have to be asleep to miss it.”

King wiggled around, probably trying to relax. “Professor Underwood led a research team to develop programs to prevent that sort of interference from happening again. I’m not sure, but these last few days, the professor seemed happy, like he had broken through some barrier.”

Scott heard a man shouting in the downstairs hallway.

“Dammit, this is my house. I demand you let me into the study.”

A calm voice replied. “Just one minute, please, let me check with my lieutenant.”

Scott called to the police officer. “It’s all right. Let him up.”

A slender, man who looked to be in his mid-50s, burst upstairs. “Who are you? This is my house. I demand to know what’s going on.”

Scott had dealt with firecrackers like this guy before. She pulled out her badge and showed it to the man. “I’m Lieutenant Scott with the Fairfax County Police Department. I’m investigating the murder of a security guard. Now suppose you cool down until I figure out who you are. This is my crime scene. I won’t have you turning it into a circus. What is your name?”

The man stepped back. “I’m Professor Underwood. Who are you again?”

“I’m Homicide Lieutenant Scott with the Fairfax County Police Department. I was called here to investigate the murder of a security guard.” She nodded toward a body with a sheet over it.

Our medical examiner will arrive in a few minutes.”

Underwood looked at King. “Is that correct? Murdered? By whom?”

King nodded. “Someone murdered our guard. Poor guy’s been working with us for only a couple of days.”

Underwood looked as if he might faint. “What? Why?” Scott figured this was her clue to step in and get this mess under control. She had her tablet out. “Full name?”

“Jeremy Underwood” Scott made a note. “I understand you’re researching a system to improve the security for our elections.”

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“That’s right, Lieutenant. You say someone shot our guard.

Why?” “I don’t know, but I plan to find out. Where were you this evening?”

“My wife and I were out visiting friends. We arrived home to see the police cars outside.”

“Do you have any idea who might have done such a thing?”

Underwood stared off for a moment. “No, no, no one I can think of.”

“So you and your team had finished your study? Successful?”

“That’s right. We received a contract from the Department of State. Because of the sensitivity of the subject, we had to classify the results of the study to protect the contents.”

“Had you received threats concerning the study? Any reason to believe someone might try to steal the contents?”

“No, but we felt it necessary to keep the contents safe. That’s why we had a security detachment in our house.” He knelt down, clutching his stomach. “Oh, god, this is awful.”

“I’ll need the names of the people you say you visited this evening.”

“Of course, Lieutenant, I’ll get that information for you.”

“Do you know who might have wanted to steal this study?”

Underwood shook his head. “As you probably know, our country felt a high level of concern about a foreign country hacking into our system. We had to prevent it. Thus, the purpose of the study.”

“Could it have been a foreign power responsible for this action?”

“I have no reason to suspect any particular government that might have been involved. I’m sure you realize the current election process is already pretty heated.”

“Have to be blind not to see that.”

Underwood got the hint of a smile. “So true.” *****

20

Don Helin

After breakfast, Zack paced the floor of his hotel room, feeling closed in by the standard double bed, one desk and chair, waiting for Barrington. The detective had promised he would call when he had more information.

He had read the story about the shooting in the morning Tribune, the whole issue getting more and more bizarre in his mind. Drinking a cup of coffee he’d brought up from the downstairs breakfast bar, he sat and tried to figure out what he should do next. Couldn’t sit here all day, waiting for something to happen. Special Agent Hamilton wasn’t particularly on his side. He didn’t want anyone to shoot Zack on his watch.

Finally a few minutes to himself. He checked for bugs, but didn’t find any. In spite of that, he had to be careful of what he said. He decided to call Rene Garcia. Garcia and Zack had been partners on Admiral Steele’s task force for almost two years. He’d trust her with his life.

He pushed buttons on his cell and listened to the ring, then heard, “Garcia.”

The sound of her voice improved his mood. Finally, someone who would be on his side. Someone with some brains. “Hey, it’s Zack Kelly.”

“Zack. How’s the reunion? Run into any old girlfriends. Bet you had a bunch of them.”

“Well, not exactly,” Zack explained what had happened.

“My lord, Zack, thank heavens you weren’t hurt. What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea, but I’ve got to do something. Develop a plan.

I wonder if you might be able to get approval from the boss to fly out and help me sort this out?”

“Admiral Steel has me keeping an eye on the presidential campaign of a retired four-star general, Frederick Farmington,” Garcia said. “I’ve been watching him for a few days. Can you imagine me involved in politics?”

She paused for a moment. “I bet Fairchild might like to go. I don’t think she’s got any hot cases she’s working. You may remember, she spent several years with the FBI before joining our task force. Might be right up her alley. Let me check with the admiral for you.”

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“Thanks. She’d be a big help. Someone I can trust.” Zack couldn’t help but chuckle. “Now, why are you watching Farmington?”

“As a third party candidate, Farmington is making a serious challenge to the president. The election isn’t far away. His speeches about turning the military loose are making inroads with the party faithful. Many people are tired of what they believe is America getting pushed around in the world, particularly in the Middle East. Want us to toughen up and the idea is spreading.”

“Whatever happened to diplomacy?”

“Guess people think it’s time to return to old Teddy Roosevelt, Speak softly but carry a big stick. Admiral Steele doesn’t give much of a damn about politics either, but Farmington’s fiery speeches are causing an uproar. And there are rumors about members of the cabinet secretly helping him.”

“What? That’s incredible.”

“No kidding. I’ll check with the boss and let you know what he says. I’m sure he’ll okay the trip to help you. Besides, October is a great time to be Minneapolis.”

Zack chuckled again. “Hope he’ll spring her.”

“Okay, I’ll call as soon as I have a decision.”

“Thanks.” He hung up and made himself another cup of coffee. He thought back to his high school days. Why hadn’t he kept dating Bonnie? Her father wanted his baby to attend the school her mother had attended in the east. All Zack could afford was the University of Minnesota and barely that. What has she been doing? Maybe he could find her. Wouldn’t hurt to try.

He took another sip from his coffee cup and got out the phone book. With his finger, he scanned the page until he found a Bonnie Swenson. What could he lose?

He picked up his cell and pushed in her number.

22

5 Minneapolis, Saturday, 6:00 p.m.

Zack had trouble keeping the smile off his face. He’d taken a quick shower, freshened up with a change of clothes and a sport coat, then waited, tapping his feet and fingers.

Finally, a knock on the door. He patted down his hair and walked over to the door, pulled it open.

There she stood. Her face still flawless, a smile reaching up to large blue eyes. Blond hair, thick, reaching down to her shoulders.

Still the same combination of smile and light in her eyes, making you wonder what she’d been up too. Bonnie Swenson.

Her voice quiet, a whisper. “Colonel, are you going to invite me in or just stand there and stare at me like a local farm boy from Minnesota checking out his prize hog?”

“Oops, sorry.” He opened the door wider and motioned her in. “Wow, still the same beautiful woman. You haven’t changed at all.” She stepped into his arms and he hugged her. God, she felt good.

She leaned back, looked up at him and laughed. “Still the same level of blarney.” Then she returned the hug. “So good to see you after all this time. Missed you.”

Setting a bag down on the desk, she said, “I figured you might not be able to go out and buy beer so I brought a six-pack we could work on.”

Zack stepped over to the desk, opened two bottles and pulled out glasses. “When did you start drinking beer? If I remember right, you were a wine lover.”

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“Things change in twenty years.” When they were seated with their beers, Bonnie asked, “What in the world happened out there? Our class is buzzing about it.”

Zack repeated the story. It seemed more unbelievable each time he told it. “I’ll never forget Jean laying there, head all bloody.” He stopped, the memory choking him up. “It was awful.”

She wiped the tears away from her eyes and blew her nose.

“Do the police have any clues who might have shot her?”

Zack figured he’d better come out with Tyson’s theory first.

Certainly Bonnie had heard it. “Freddie assumed the shooter was after me and shot Jean by mistake.”

Bonnie looked down at her glass, then up at him. “Oh, Zack, that seems to be the consensus of our classmates. Most of them haven’t seen you for a long time and some didn’t know you very well. Everyone loved Jean. She drove the alumni group. Helped set up each of our reunions. Some of them are ready to string you up as guilty.”

Zack shook his head. “What I was afraid of. Freddie said with my military background, someone must have been after me.

Doesn’t make any sense to me. Why out here? Who even knew I was here?”

“Classmates?”

Zack swallowed hard. “What?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “First time back in twenty years.

All the things you’ve been in the middle of. Sort of makes some sense.”

Zack waited a moment before asking the next question.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t believe you’d bring something from far away in here, and I don’t see any reason why someone would have it in for you here. Freddie has been very successful. You know he always cuts corners with the truth. Maybe someone was after him and decided to take it out on Jean.”

Zack took a sip of beer, debating telling Bonnie what Jean had said, then decided against it. Not sure who might have been involved.

“Okay, Kelly, I know you too well. You were a lousy liar twenty years ago and you haven’t improved.” She gave him her winning 24

Don Helin

smile. The one he had enjoyed twenty years ago and did again now. “What did she say? Come on, fess up.”

“Oh, man, you’re tough.” Decided he needed a friend in court, then thought, why not? He told her Jean had wanted to talk with him about Tyson’s nursing homes.

She sipped her beer. “You know, Zack, what she said makes sense. Freddie always had an angle, scheming to make an extra buck. But you need to find the answers if you ever want the rumors to stop.”

He reached over and took her hand. “Thanks. I need a friend and it’s nice to have a long-time buddy to believe in me. Now, I’ve got to figure a strategy to find out what happened and why.”

“I may be able to help you find a way to get into his nursing home in Richfield. See for yourself what it’s like.”

“I was thinking about that, but I doubt Freddie will let me snoop around. Well, enough talk about the shooting. Let me ask, what’s going on with you?”

“I took communications in college and work as a reporter on our paper. Enjoy it.”

“If I remember right, you were into psychology.” He laughed.

“Always trying to analyze me. How about your folks?”

“Dad died three years ago. He never recovered from Debbie’s death.”

Zackwishedhe’d calledherwhenithappened.Heremembered Debbie, Bonnie’s twin. Another beautiful blonde. Disappeared the fall after graduation. No clues. “I felt so bad hearing about Debbie, and to be honest for not staying in touch. Must have been awful. Did the police ever find who did it?”

Bonnie shook her head. “No clues. It’s like she dropped off the face of the earth. Dad searched and searched for her. Never gave up and it broke him. Every time the phone rang, he figured it was something about Debbie.”

Zack couldn’t imagine the pain. If that had been Laura, Zack would have never given up. “Is your mom alive?”

Bonnie picked at the label on the bottle. “She never recovered either. She’s in one of Freddie’s nursing homes here. We can visit with her if you’d like.”

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Zack raised his eyebrows and nodded.

“Ever since that night, she’s been consumed by Debbie’s death. I think it would have been easier if they had found Debbie and my folks could have given her a proper burial.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Find Debbie. Give my mother and me some closure.”

Zack thought for a moment. “You know, my dad might be able to help. He was a cop on the NYPD and had to go into witness protection because a mobster wanted to kill him. We thought he had died.”

“I never met him.”

“That’s because of the witness protection program. It was wonderful for our family to find him again after thirty years.”

Her face broke into a smile. “Fantastic. You are so lucky.”

“I can understand your pain. It’s terrible not knowing. Let me talk to him. It would be a tough cold case, but he’s pretty good.”

“That would be wonderful.”

“I’ll let you know what he says.” He smiled. “How about if I treat you to dinner? Ah, will your husband let you out with this army guy from the east?”

“I figured you’d get around to asking if I had married. The answer is no.”

He relaxed. “Whew.”

She grinned. “But, I do have a partner.”

Zack’s eyes widened in surprise. “A partner?”

“Yep, we met in college. Going on almost eighteen years now.”

“Well, congratulations.”

“I know my comment may have let the air out of your tires.

If it makes you feel any better, you were the last male I ever slept with. I met Margie Bryant and that was that.”

Zack remembered how much Bonnie enjoyed sex. She must have been doing some award-winning acting to not like being with a man. “You know I still love you in my own way. I’m happy for whatever and whoever makes you happy.”

“Thanks, Zack. I never felt quite right with a man, but you sure came close. Now, I gotta ask, will the FBI let you out on the town?”

26

Don Helin

“Screw ‘em. If they don’t like it, tough. Besides, I need to get out of what feels like a prison.”

“That’s the Kelly I know. Good to have you back.”

It felt good to be back and fun to spend time with Bonnie. He had missed her.

As he reached back to close the door, he made a mental note to talk with his dad about looking into what had happened to Debbie.

27

6 Washington, D.C. Convention Center, Saturday, 7:30 p.m.

Rene Garcia stood in the back of the mammoth D.C. Convention Center, listening to General Frederick Farmington rattle off his litany of slights Americans took from everyone else in the world without standing up to them.

Farmington had been Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff until a little over eighteen months ago, He’d become disgruntled with what he saw as the president’s willingness to put up with smaller countries pushing America around, particularly in the Middle East.

He became more and more vocal with his concerns. The president warned him to stop. He chose not to and made a very public retirement speech in protest.

This led to the formation of the Patriots Party. No one took them seriously until about eight months ago when Farmington announced his plan to run for president. Over the past couple of months, he had been holding rallies around the country. His efforts had been gaining traction as shown by his poll numbers.

With only two months until the election, he appeared to be a serious threat to the president.

Garcia listened to his latest rant about other countries. It seemed every sentence he spoke ended with a huge round of applause from the audience.

She wondered who all these people were. Many blue-collar folks had lost their jobs when the automobile factories in the Midwest had closed down. Garcia understood their pain, but Farmington was pumping them up until they were in a dangerous mood. She didn’t like what she saw.

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Looking around, she sized up the security which stood at every door. Big guys with dark glasses who looked like pro football players. She needed to figure out how to get on the team.

Farmington shook his fist and yelled that America had started with generations of people who had built up the country, served in our wars, worked hard, and now the government was letting other countries take everything away without a fight. We had to turn our military loose and take it all back. She pitied anyone who stood up as a peace candidate.

The people who came into the convention center were checked for guns and had to leave them in sealed cases at the door. But, what happened when they left the building after getting all tuned up by the general. She shivered to think about it.

When Admiral Steele had asked Garcia to go undercover and watch Farmington, she had scanned his FBI file. A graduate of West Point and every other military school under the sun as well as several seminars at Harvard and Yale. He had an enviable file.

His father had been a major general and a hero at the Battle of the Bulge and his grandfather had ridden with Teddy Roosevelt.

Mister military all the way around.

At these rallies, he played up his overseas experience as well as all of the schools he had attended. The audience loved his presentations and seemed to adore him.

As she turned around to work her way out, she felt a hand on her elbow. Didn’t like it and was about to elbow whoever it was in the gut and jam her heel into his foot when a voice said, “Don’t do it. I can’t afford the doctor.”

She knew the voice and settled back. “Don’t worry, you’re safe. This time.”

Sonny Benson, Farmington’s chief of staff, a big-bellied, bigmouth politico who had worked his way up from several dirty campaigns to run this big one for Farmington. The two had started the Patriots party. Normally third parties had trouble gaining traction. But the way the Patriots had caught hold worried the admiral and explained why she now stood here.

Garcia glared up at him. “Damnit, Benson, you gotta quick grabbing women. One day one of them is going to crush your nuts.”

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“That’s what I love about you, Garcia. You’ve got such a gift of gab. How do you like our event?”

Garcia seemed to think for a moment, holding her finger up to her chin. “I’m really sorry to see you don’t have many people here. I bet you’re disappointed.”

Benson laughed. “We’re blowing the roof off the place. That’s why the hotshot president is so worried. And he should be.

Frankly, we scare him.”

“I try to stay as far away as I can from all the political crap.”

“We’re on the way, and I’ve got a special place for you on the campaign.” He smiled his big, shit-eating grin. “Special assistant to the chief of staff. With all the perks to go with it.”

“Sounds good, although I’m a little worried about what some of the perks might be.”

He leaned in close. “You got it.” Then he backed away. “Just kidding. I don’t want one of your karate chops on my neck. Now I gotta get back to work. But, you think about my offer. I’ll move you up to my assistant.”

It made her uneasy getting too involved with Sonny. But it would help her get the info the boss wanted. She needed to tread carefully.

He turned to leave, then reached back and said, “Remember, this could be your big chance.”

As she worked her way through the crowd and finally got outside, she took a deep breath. Even the smoke and pollution of big city Washington seemed better after being inside and listening to Farmington. Or worse yet, thinking about him as president of the United States made her shiver.

When she reached her motorcycle, Garcia pulled out her phone. She sent a text to Zack advising him the admiral had approved sending Fairchild. She planned to leave Washington at eight o’clock in the morning and should be in Minneapolis by eleven fifteen. Garcia wished she could go, but she had her hands full here.

She wondered how it had all happened? From what Zack had said, he had no idea why anyone would shoot his classmate.

Well, time to go home and decompress with Harold. If only she could spend more time with him.

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***** Bonnie pulled up in front of the Shady Lane Nursing Center, parked in the visitor’s lot, and turned the engine off on her Honda. Zack got and looked around. The center, a white onestory brick building, took up about half a block and stood right on the corner.

Following her up the front steps, he couldn’t help but be curious about Freddie’s business and figured this would be a great way to check it out.

He pushed open the front door and followed Bonnie inside.

Bonnie greeted the receptionist and signed in at the front desk.

“I’m here to see my mother.”

The receptionist pointed down a hallway. “You know the way.”

Bonnie nodded. “Sadly, I do. She turned to Zack. “Mom’s in the assisted living section which is to the left of the main facility.

We need to head down this corridor.”

As they started, the receptionist called, “Wait.”

They turned, Bonnie asked, “Yes?” The receptionist motioned for them to come back. “Your visitor needs to sign in, too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, this is my cousin, Zack Kelly.”

“Mister Kelly, will you please sign in?’

Zack stepped up to the desk. He printed his name, then scrawled his signature.

Zack followed Bonnie down the hallway again. “Are all the rooms on the first floor?”

Bonnie nodded.

Many of the rooms they passed had their doors partially open. Some of the rooms contained two beds which he thought would be pretty tight living conditions. To the right, windows opened onto a central courtyard. Residents probably enjoyed being able to see daylight and the outdoors.

Zack looked around. “Big place.”

“They’re staffed for 150 beds, thirty of which belong to the memory unit.”

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“For patients with Alzheimer’s?”

“Actually, in my research, I’ve found there are many kinds of dementia. Alzheimer’s is only one. My mom is in the early stages of dementia. She seems to be getting worse each time I see her, but I don’t think she needs the memory care unit yet. The assisted living section makes sure she takes her medicines and helps with dressing if she needs it.”

“What’s the memory care unit like?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure. I’ve never been in the unit. The staff doesn’t want to bother the patients. That answer has never made sense to me.”

“What happens if they transfer your mom to the unit?”

“Then, I’ll check it out.”

Her comment piqued Zack’s interest. “I wonder why they don’t allow people into the unit? You’d think those patients would enjoy seeing other patients.”

“If they try to pull any crap when my mom needs the care, I’ll yank her out of the center. Who in the world would want to be all alone?”

Zack had to smile. Bonnie had seemed different at first, but this was closer to the Bonnie he remembered.

She led him down a long corridor with a sign for the assisted living section. Bonnie turned right and they entered Room 106.

Zack barely recognized Bonnie’s mother sitting in a chair.

She had lost much of her hair and her lined face looked up at him. He saw no sparkle in her eyes and no signs of recognition.

“Mrs. Swenson, it’s me, Zack Kelly. Do you remember me from high school? I’ve returned to attend our high school reunion.”

Bonnie’s mother stared at him. “I don’t believe we’ve met, have we?”

“Why, yes,” Zack replied. “I went to high school with Bonnie.

I used to come over to your house for dinner and watch ball games with your husband.”

“Gerald’s gone, you know. I’m alone except for Bonnie. And no baby. She’s so good to me.”

Bonnie took her mother’s hand. “You remember Zack, don’t you, Mom?” 32

Don Helin

She shook her head. “I get so tired of not being able to remember things I should.” She started to cry. “It’s so frustrating.”

She cried harder. “I can hardly stand it.”

Zack glanced at Bonnie. Mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

Her mother cried louder, starting to wail.

Zack got up. “How about if I wait out in the hallway?”

Bonnie adjusted the pillow behind her mother’s head. “I think it’s best. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Zack stepped out the door, feeling like shit. He didn’t want to upset Bonnie’s mother. Why did she mention a baby? Did one of the twins have a baby? He didn’t think so. Better not say anything. Could be a sore subject.

He stood outside the door for a few minutes, then figured he might as well walk back through the corridor to the nursing home section. He couldn’t help but be interested in the memory care unit. No visitors. Seemed kinda crazy.

Maybe he could get inside and meet one of the patients. At the end of the corridor, he turned left, away from all the offices and walked slowly toward the memory care unit. He approached a set of double doors with a sign, “Do Not Enter.”

Why the sign? He pulled on the door. It surprised him when it opened. Figured it would be locked. After opening it, he stepped inside and heard a buzzer.

He stood in the open doorway, debating what to do. A large man in a white suit came running down the hallway from the left. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing? Can’t you read? This is a secure area.”

Zack backed away, not wanting to create a scene. It surprised him to see the man carried what appeared to be a taser gun stuffed in his belt. “Ah, I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was visiting Mrs. Swenson down the hall. She became upset and started to cry. I decided to wait outside. Wasn’t sure if there was anyone here to help calm her down.”

“Look, buddy, there’s no one here who can help you with a crazy woman. We’ve got plenty of them on this ward and don’t need anymore. Push the button in the room and call the nurse.

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Now get out of here. And don’t come back. I’ve got plenty I need to do.”

Zack backed away and stepped outside into the hallway as the man slammed the door. Couldn’t believe what he had just seen. And in a senior center. That jerk didn’t belong here, or did he? And what’s so secret about a room with a group of patients who had dementia problems?

He walked back down the hallway to the main corridor and followed it over to the assisted living area as Bonnie came out of her mother’s room.

“I’m sorry I upset your mom. I sure didn’t mean to. Perhaps I could have handled it better.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m afraid her outbreaks are placing her another step closer to the memory care unit. Makes me sad.”

Zack shared with her what had happened at the memory unit. He figured she needed to know even if might upset her.

Sadly, the last thing she needed.

She nodded, looking as if she might cry, but didn’t say anything.

He thought about her sister. “If you have time tomorrow night, we could go over to my folk’s house. I’ll talk with my dad.

I’m sure he’ll be happy to look into Debbie’s disappearance. And Mom would be delighted to see you again.”

Bonnie’s face lit up. “I’ve always enjoyed your mother and would love to meet your dad. If he could find anything out, it would be wonderful.”

“I’ll call and set up a time. Maybe around five tomorrow afternoon? And I’ll be happy to pick you up.”

She took his arm and the two headed out of the center.

“Perfect.”

34

7 Minneapolis, Sunday, noon Zack heard a knock at the door, so put down the Minneapolis Star and Tribune paper and walked to the door, pulling it open.

There stood a smiling Tara Fairchild.

Fairchild was a tall woman, her blond hair worn short on top and swept back on the sides into a short block cut in the back.

She was wearing another of her tailored navy-blue suits and had spent a couple of years in Admiral Steele’s office.

“Hey Tara, thanks so much for coming and on such short notice. Come in.”

“Hi, Zack. I’m dying to find out what you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”

“I’ve got the coffee pot on so let’s grab a seat at the table.

I’ll tell you what I know, which, to be honest, isn’t much. I’m planning on getting out of here tomorrow as this hotel room is driving me nuts.”

She looked around. “I can see why.”

After they were seated and coffee cups filled, Zack told her what had happened. He added the details about his trip with Bonnie to the senior center the night before.

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, how about if we head to a great restaurant and get something to eat. Give you a chance to get organized.”

“Sounds good. I’m famished.”

They jumped into Tara’s rental, and Zack led her over to the Hell’s Kitchen. “This restaurant has been rated Minnesota’s Most Booked Restaurant by USA Today. We’ve got to hustle because the Bloody Mary and Mimosa Bar closes in about thirty minutes.”

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Tara looked over at him. “You sure do know this place.”

“You bet. I come here every time I’m in Minneapolis visiting my folks. My favorites are the Lemon Ricotta pancakes, Walleye Hash and Eggs, or the Bison Benedict. I want to make sure you realize how glad I am you’re here.”

“Say no more, my friend, I’m dying for a Bloody Mary, then the Lemon Ricotta Pancakes.”

When they were seated and had ordered, Zack provided some of his thoughts on what they might do. “Based on what Jean was going to tell me, I can’t help but think the senior center could somehow be involved in all this. We need to get someone inside the center as a patient or maybe a staff person to see if they can help us discover what’s going on.”

Fairchild took a sip of coffee, obviously thinking about what he had said. “Could be dangerous. What you’re talking about is a group that must have something to hide. If you’re convinced, the shooting is somehow tied to the center’s programs, that makes them even more dangerous.”

Zack pondered her comment. “Jean wanted to tell me something. I can’t come up with any other reasonable explanation.

You were with the FBI for a number of years before coming to Admiral Steele’s office. What do you think?”

“Seems she knew what’s going on and someone didn’t want her to open her mouth. Going to be pretty dangerous getting into that facility. Many of those folks may be kept under all sorts of god-awful drugs. If we have someone inside and they are discovered, well, I don’t like to think about it.”

The waitress brought their meals. Zack toasted her with his Bloody Mary, then dug into his Walleye Fish and Hash. “Garcia told me a little about General Farmington. Sounds like a guy who might be going off the deep end.”

“After he retired, he made sounds about running for president,” Fairchild said. “No one took him seriously until he formed the Patriot’s Party. The president is planning on a second term and we all certainly support it.”

Zack had to laugh. “I love what I do and think he’s doing a great job.”

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Don Helin

Fairchild took a bite of her pancakes and chewed.

“Farmington’s campaign started slowly and we never thought much about it. However, the guy has great stage presence and is a terrific speaker.”

“He has lots of experience as a former chairman of the joint chiefs.”

“His appeal seems to be with white voters, you know, older, fought for their country and can’t figure out why we put up with all these half-pint nations who push us around. He wants to turn the military loose and make the rest of the world sit up and take notice.” She lowered her head and leaned closer to Zack. ‘He may even consider using nuclear weapons.”

Zack winced. “Once you let the nuclear genie out of the bottle, it’s hard to put it back in. As far as too much bureaucracy in our country, I know the paper drill is a problem for many folks. My dad is still trying to sort out his retirement from the NYPD.” Fairchild took another sip of coffee. “I wouldn’t think he should have any trouble.”

“He’s spending a lot of time fighting his way through all of the paperwork and gathering backup materials.”

“Anyway,’ Fairchild continued, “Farmington’s campaign has been gaining momentum. Churches started coming on board.

The guy is circling the country, speaking everywhere. He’s received recommendations from many senior military officers.

It’s been almost six months now and Admiral Steele is beginning to take his campaign seriously.”

“Do you think the president has anything to worry about?”

“I’m not sure, but Admiral Steele has Garcia going around to campaign stops to watch what’s going on. Also, he’s concerned about the tenor of Farmington’s campaign. The general excites the audience, then if they go out and start pushing people around, it’ll bring on bigger problems.”

“Ouch, I don’t like to hear that.”

“Nothing too serious yet, but the FBI is keeping an eye on his rallies, too.”

“Anything I can do?” Zack asked.

Fairchild chuckled. “I think you’ve got your hands full right here.”

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As he took another bite of hash, Zack said, “Whoever we put in the senior center, has got to be someone cool under pressure.”

He stopped and chewed for a moment. “I think I know just the person.”

Fairchild raised her eyebrows. “And who might it be?”

“Let me talk to her and see if she might be willing. Could work.”

“She?” Zack nodded. “ Come on; let’s finish eating. Leave the intrigue until tomorrow.”

Fairchild took another bite and put down her fork. “I’m all for that.”

“After we finish our brunch, how about if I give you a tour of Minneapolis. I’m taking an old friend over to see my folks later this afternoon. Her twin disappeared after high school and has never been found. I’m asking my dad if he could look into the case.”

“I suspect if anyone can help, your dad can.” She raised her glass. “Thanks for brunch. The tour sounds wonderful. I don’t know much about Minneapolis.”

“Course we’ll have to see if I can remember my way around.

Been a while since I’ve driven the city. Normally I just fly in, visit with my folks, then fly out again.”

“Hopefully, it’s kinda like riding a bike. By the way, what’s going on with the reunion?”

Zack stood and pulled out her chair. “I’m not sure. Haven’t heard anything. I suspect everything is on hold. Guess we’ll just have to keep our fingers crossed.”

She took his arm. “After my tour, I think I’ll head back to my motel and get my stuff organized. But for now, lead away Mr. Guide.” ***** Zack pulled up in front of his parent’s house a little after five o’clock. They lived in a two-story brick house with a gable roof.

His mother, an artist who loved light for her work, had installed 38

Don Helin

French windows about ten years ago and contracted to have the house painted a light beige. The attached two-car garage held their two cars plus lawn equipment.

He opened the car door for Bonnie and together they strolled up the sidewalk. Before he could push the bell, his dad opened the door. “Welcome. We’re delighted you could both join us.

Please come in.”

Zack reached over and hugged his dad. “Hey, Dad, I’d like to introduce Bonnie Swenson.”

“Hi, Mr. Kelly.”

“Roger, please.”

Zack’s mom came up and hugged Zack, then Bonnie.

“Bonnie, it’s wonderful to see you again. My goodness, it’s been such a long time. Please come in. Let’s sit on our back porch. I’ve got some refreshments set out.”

After getting acquainted over a beer, they moved to the dining room for a dinner of Zack’s favorite, fried chicken, mashed potatoes and corn on the cob.

Roger passed the fried chicken to Bonnie. “I understand from Zack you went to visit your mother last night. How is she?”

Bonnie took a piece of chicken. “Not doing well. Her dementia is getting worse each time I see her.”

Roger shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Every time I forget something, I wonder if my mind is slipping.”

Ethel started to laugh. “It seems to always start with the chores.”

That caught a laugh from everyone.

“Zack, how are you doing after the shooting?” Roger asked.

Zack thought for a moment. “Better. Still shook. And I keep wondering what I should do about the center. Before Jean was shot, she wanted to tell me about the center. She seemed to be concerned.”

“Now, that’s interesting,” Roger said.

“Then yesterday, during our visit, I saw the memory unit closed up and locked. The staff member had what looked like a taser gun stuck in his belt. Didn’t seem right.”

Bonnie seemed to grimace. “I’m worried for my mom as she keeps slipping and may need to move to the unit.”

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“One approach might be....”

Bonnie glanced up at him as she chewed. “No, please finish.”

“Maybe bring in someone to work undercover and see what they find out.” He stopped. “No, that might not seem to be fair to Freddie and Jake, who own it. On the other hand. Well, we’ll see.”

By this time, they had almost finished eating.

“Hey, Mom, your cooking is outstanding as always,” Zack said. “And thanks for the fried chicken.

“Thanks, Mrs. Kelly,” Bonnie said. “It was fun catching up and dinner was great.”

Roger Kelly pushed his plate back. “I’m stuffed. Bonnie, since I’ve missed so much because of the witness protection, tell me how you met Zack?”

“I guess he was on our football team and I was a cheerleader.

We started dating and it lasted about a year. Wonderful time.

Dances, hayrides, picnics.”

“I saw so much of Bonnie,” Ethel said. “And to be honest, I wanted to see more.”

Zack leaned back. “Lucky me. Every guy in the school wanted to date Bonnie.”

“Now Zack, you’re pushing my rep a little. But I guess we split up because my folks wanted me to go East to college. Zack was planning on going to the U of Minnesota.”

“I know this could be painful,” Roger said, “but tell me what happened to your sister.’

“Debbie had been dating Jake Early, one of Zack’s best friends, so we did a lot of double dating. They seemed to be hitting it off, then one night, I guess it was early fall, Debbie came into my room and said she was going out for a walk.”

Roger held up his hand to stop her. “Could you give me the exact date she went out for the walk. It could be important.”

Bonnie stopped and thought for a moment. “Sure. Let me see, I asked her if I could come along, but she said she needed some time to think. It had to be late September because we were both so tied up with getting ready for school.”

“Were you both going to the same school?” Roger asked.

“Dad wanted us to go to Smith College. Mother had gone there and she figured we’d do better in a smaller school.”

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“That’s where you went?” Roger asked. “But not Debbie.

Why?” “She wanted to stay local. I think it concerned her she might lose Jake if she went away to school. Probably start at the University of Minnesota. She wasn’t a strong student, so her grades were a problem. Dad finally agreed.”

Bonnie started to choke up. “I could tell something was wrong. Debbie always told me everything and she kinda cut me off. I don’t know why.”

Roger leaned forward. “Zack told me you’re a lesbian. Was Debbie one also?”

“Not that I know of. She seemed to be going hot and heavy with Jake.”

“I think it’s important. You understand if she and Jake were intimate and all of a sudden, she changes, well that could make Jake angry with her.”

“I understand what you’re saying, but I have no reason to suspect Jake. I didn’t come out until I met Margie my freshman year. All I can think about is wish I’d insisted on going on the walk with her. Anyway, she left and,” — Bonnie started to cry — “and I never saw her again.”

Roger handed her a tissue. “Should we take a break for a few minutes? I can’t imagine how painful this must be.”

“No. It’ll never get any easier.”

Roger took out a notebook. “Tell me exactly what you remember. What time was it and did she have a normal path she liked to walk?”

Bonnie’s face got contorted. “It must have been about 9:30. I don’t remember if Debbie had a normal route. When she didn’t come back in an hour, I went out to look for her. I called some of our friends. No one had seen her. Oh, Mr. Kelly, it was horrible.”

She started crying again, then stopped. “About midnight, my dad called the police. They searched for her without success.

The Lieutenant in charge was very nice, but we lived through months and months of nothing. It broke my dad and drained all the emotion out of my mom. The police kept investigating, but never found anything. No clues. No nothing.”

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Roger made a note in his book. “Do you remember the name of the lead detective on the case?”

“Inspector York.”

“Had her friend, this Jake Early, seen her?”

“That was my first thought, but no. I went to see him right away and told him what had happened. He hadn’t seen her in a couple of days. We searched and searched. Nothing.”

“Did you believe him. Normally the boyfriend is a top suspect. Were they having troubles?”

“Not that I know of. They were on the verge of breaking up.”

She glanced at Zack. “I will have to say if any male could have kept me straight, it was Zack.”

It surprised Zack to see her switch from talking about Debbie to talking about herself and him. Why the switch? Seemed confused. Probably just upset. He took her hand. “She was then and still is such a very special lady. I still love her and am sure I always will.”

Roger stood. “I’m so sorry about your sister. I’m not a miracle worker, but I’ll certainly do my best.”

“That’s all I can ask, Mr. Kelly.”

Zack stood and offered Bonnie his hand. “Come on, Bonnie, I’ll drive you home.”

She stood, her hands a little shaky.

Zack took her arm. “It’s all right. My dad will do what he can.”

She hugged Zack’s mom and dad. “Thank you so much for dinner and for your help. I appreciate it.”

They walked out to the car, and Zack helped her in. Walking around to the driver’s side, Zack waved goodbye to his parents and got in the car. He was still uneasy about the small changes he had seen in Bonnie. Maybe nothing, yet...

42

8 Washington, D.C. Monday, 8:00 a.m.

Garcia got off her motorcycle and locked it. She walked toward Mom’s Restaurant to meet with Scott. An older, one-story plywood building whose white paint siding looked as if it could use a few more coats of paint, but the owner did serve wonderful breakfasts. She wasn’t sure why Scott wanted to meet her, but no doubt important.

When she pushed open the sliding glass door and stepped inside, she heard a mix of voices and the thumping of country music. Thankfully, not too loud.

She spotted Scott and walked over. “Hey Scott, how ya doing?”

“Doing great although I’ve gotten into a case that’s bothering me and I thought you might be interested. Sit and grab some coffee. I’ve got a menu in case you’re hungry. By the way, how’s Harold doing?”

Garcia sat at the red plastic-covered table and picked up the menu. “Oh, he’s the same old Harold. A loving pain-in-the-ass cat.”

She scanned the menu. “Coffee and eggs sound perfect.

Never turn eggs down.”

The waitress walked over and poured Garcia coffee, took her order, then refilled Scott’s mug.

When the waitress left, Garcia asked, “Okay, what’s up?”

Scott played with her coffee cup and whispered, “Let me summarize things for you. I’m not sure how big a deal this is, so let’s whisper.”

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Garcia took a sip of coffee. “Okay.”

“I guess you’d have to be on another planet to not realize the concerns about other governments hacking into our elections.

Let me give you a short burst, then what’s bothering me. I suspect you’ll pick it up as I go.”

Another sip of coffee. “Absolutely.”

“I got called to a crime scene early this past Saturday morning.

It seems someone murdered a security guard at a professor’s house on the George Mason University campus. Looked like a professional job. One shot in the chest then two in the head to seal the deal.”

“Okay, what else?”

“The safe had been opened, and I understand some highly classified material stolen. This hot-shot prof led some super deal study to protect our elections.”

The waitress arrived with their food. They leaned back and waited until she had served them and refilled the all-important coffee mugs.

After they had taken a couple of bites of breakfast, Scott continued. “I have to ask, why does a professor at one of our local universities have a full security contingent? Better yet, why does he live in a big beautiful home?”

“Good point. How did the killer get in?”

“Apparently, he had a key to the kitchen door.”

Garcia took another bite of egg and chewed. “Did the prof know how the thief happened to have a key to the house and it sounds like the codes to his safe?”

Scott shook her head.

“How did the thief know the timing of the security schedule?

Sounds like an inside job to me.”

The waitress returned to their table and topped off their coffees. “Can I bring you anything else?”

“Just the bill,” Scott replied. “I’ll take it.”

Garcia nodded a thanks.

“All of these questions came to me and why I figured I’d better contact my favorite military cop for an opinion. The whole thing doesn’t make any sense. Besides, I hoped you had some idea about all of the political crap.”

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“No barn burner ideas,” Garcia said. “But I do know this election is starting to get tricky. The president is running for reelection, and to be honest, I hope he gets reelected. Job security and all of that. Plus, all of us in the office think he’s doing a great job.”

“Not being a political junky, I don’t have an opinion, but I would tend to blow the way the admiral goes,” Scott said. “I’d hoped you could help me make some sense of what happened.”

“The admiral has asked me to follow this Farmington guy and attend his rallies. His concerns radiate around Farmington’s belief the U.S. should unleash the military. Farmington’s emphasis is there are too many tin-horned dictators kicking us around.

That’s why I’ve been following his campaign.”

“What are your thoughts about this guy, Farmington?” Scott asked.

“The tone of his campaign. When some of the believers come out after the rally ends, they’re pretty steamed up. I see the possibility of real hell-fired riots if any pacifists arrive. We don’t need that.”

Scott took another sip of coffee. “Completely agree with you.

By the way, what’s going on with Fairchild?”

“She’s in Minneapolis.”

“What’s she doing there? Doesn’t she realize in a few months she’ll be freezing to death in that arctic climate.”

“Well, now, Zack’s case is interesting.” Garcia shared what she knew about his reunion and the shooting.

“Holy crap. Hell of a way to start a reunion.”

“No kidding. When I get back to the office, I’ll share what you told me with Admiral Steele and give Fairchild a call. Will let you know what I find out.”

“Thanks for your time. I debated whether or not to give you a call, but my cop meter hit full bore. There’s more here than just county police business.”

“I see what’s bothering you and to be honest, it’s got my meter ticking, too,” Garcia said. “Now on to more serious business.

How are you and Bruiser doing? Any marriage plans?”

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Scott laughed. “Bruiser? He’s not the most communicative guy on earth. But as soon as I find out anything, I’ll let you know.

How’s your breakfast?”

Garcia took another bite. “Great as always. No way anyone can beat Mom’s.” ***** Shortly after nine o’clock, Jake Early left his condo in Edina, an exclusive suburb of Minneapolis, and began his commute to the Shady Lane Nursing Center.

It would take him about thirty minutes if the traffic wasn’t too bad. He loved his new red Corvette and the way babes waved at him. If they were cute enough, he sure as hell would wave back and blow his horn.

He enjoyed living in the suburb of Edina and loved his bachelor condo. Well, not quite a bachelor condo since he and his wife were separated and had never divorced. Ellie was a massive pain-in-the-butt. One of the super cool cheerleaders in high school, and a great piece-of-ass, but not much above the neck.

They’d gotten married about a year out of high school because Ellie was pregnant. Big damn mistake. She ended up losing the kid. Never had any more, but that was okay with Jake.

He and Ellie weren’t a fit and he needed a way to get rid of her. She wouldn’t go quietly — she wanted money. He didn’t want to get in the middle of something like he had before with Debbie, so he needed to decide what to do with Ellie.

Now Maddie was different. His current main squeeze. She came to his condo most nights and oh, man how she could move—drained him like a plumber. And what a looker. Every guy in the world drooled over her and envied him. Great hourglass figure and he enjoyed checking the time. She never seemed to get tired. In some ways, she reminded him of Debbie. Then all the problems started and things went to hell.

He had to get off thinking about Maddie and turn to his main problem. How to approach the boss? Find out what happened to 46

Don Helin

Jean. Had all of his markings. If he was smart, he’d stay out of it.

No way did he want to get involved any more than necessary.

Their plans had moved too far along to let anything get in the way. He’d have to watch himself to make sure he didn’t turn out to be expendable. They were on the cutting edge of a whole new government and he’d be near the top. Right next to the big guy.

What he’d always wanted.

Now back to business. He’d heard there might be another shipment coming in tonight. Had to make sure Margie readied things. The staff had to be prepared. And he needed to have a long talk with the fucking medical director. Good at what he did, mixing the drugs, but couldn’t be completely trusted.

What about Kelly? The front desk had called and told him Kelly had driven to the center last night. Supposed to go see Bonnie’s mother. Then how did he get to the special ward? Gave the ward staff some bullshit about getting lost. Damn guy spelled trouble.

He floored the Corvette and shot by a bunch of cars on the interstate. Loved to give his car the gas and feel it go. Better be careful. Didn’t want any cops checking out his Vette. It wouldn’t do for the owner of one of the most reputable senior centers in Minneapolis to get picked up for flying down the road in his Vet.

47

9 Minneapolis, Monday, 9:45 a.m.

Zack Kelly left the apartment he had rented in South Minneapolis for the week. He started toward the airport, surprised at how much he looked forward to seeing Maxine Powell, just call me Max, as she liked to say.

He remembered working with Max during the homicide case on the Jersey Shore. He felt a special warmth at the thought about their time on the beach. It had been years since he had gone skinny dipping with a woman. And what a woman she turned out to be. She had taken his breath away.

Why did he never give her a call after the investigation had been completed and ask her out? Probably because he just ran out of time. He had a chance to make it up to her, and he didn’t want to blow it.

He took a moment to glance in the mirror. Had the Buick been there for a while? How long? Get your head back in the game. He didn’t want anyone to see Max or to know where she would be staying. If someone managed to find Max, she could get hurt.

He needed to turn on to Interstate 494 toward the airport.

Gotta get rid of the Buick before he made the turn.

At the next exit, he pulled off and drove into an Exxon station. Pulled up to the pumps and stepped out of his rental.

Sure enough, the driver following him pulled up to the store next to the gas pumps. A tall man he didn’t recognize got out.

Big guy in jeans and a black T-shirt with a hat and sunglasses.

Needed a picture of the guy so Fairchild could check him out.

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Zack walked back to the pump. Faked filling the gas as he took the photo with his phone.

When the guy walked into the store, probably after some smokes or something to drink, Zack jumped back into his car and pulled out. He looked back in the mirror and saw the guy running for his car. Sorry junior, you screwed up. Now, who are you and what do you want?

He sped up to make sure he’d lost the guy. Kept one eye on the mirror. Swerved behind a big truck and floored it to get back onto the Interstate 35W. Drove to the next exit, got off and circled back on again, this time headed north. When he got back to Interstate 494, he pulled on and headed east toward the airport.

Good thing he had spotted the tail.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled off Interstate 494 and into the parking lot for the airport. He sat in the car, checking the mirror before slipping the car into park and getting out.

He walked up to the terminal and found the gates for American Airlines. As he reached Max’s gate, the crowd from the plane started pouring through the gate and sure enough, out she came.

She had let her thick brown hair grow so it came down to her neck rather than keeping it in a bun on the top of her head. The longer hair set off her short height. Waving, she walked down the hallway and through the security gate.

He found himself genuinely excited to see her. He waved back and hustled up to her. “Welcome to Minneapolis. Great to see you again.”

“When I heard you needed help, I remembered all the good times and the challenges we had on the other case and actually all of the fun we had so I couldn’t resist.”

He took her arm and together they walked toward the baggage area. “Let’s pick up your bag and get out of here.”

“Sounds good. To be honest, I’m tired of the travel scene and look forward to relaxing.”

Keep it light. Plenty of time for a complete briefing later. ***** 49

Missing

It was almost noon by the time Max had checked into her motel and the two of them walked into the Normandy Kitchen.

Located on the corner of Fourth Street and Eighth Avenue, it was sandwiched between the Hennepin County Government building and the Hennepin County Medical Center.

Max looked around at the restaurant. “I love these colors.

Bright red stools around the bar and red table cloths give the place an open feeling, plus a little zing.”

Zack nodded. “It’s been a long time since I’ve eaten here, but I remember they had great food.”

“How many for lunch, sir?” The steward asked.

“Three.”

As they walked toward the table, Max asked, “Who’s joining us?”

Zack pulled out a chair for Max. “Do you remember meeting Tara Fairchild?”

Max looked off for a moment as she took a seat. “I think I do.

Attractive blond, seemed pretty athletic?”

“That’s her,” Zack said. “She and I work together on the task force. Tara used to be with the FBI before she joined us. Very talented woman.”

Fairchild appeared at the front door of the restaurant. She saw Zack, waved, and walked over to the table.

Zack stood and motioned toward Max. “This is Maxine Powell. She’s a detective on the Sea Isle City Police Department.

We worked together on the Dark Angel case.”

Fairchild smiled. “I remember. Really tough case. You guys made a great team in bringing down the group of female vets.”

Max extended her hand. “Call me Max. I think you and I may have talked together on the phone a couple of times.”

“Welcome,” Fairchild said. “We’ve got another crazy one. I’m not quite sure where it’s going, but in any event, I’m glad you’re here.”

Max laughed. “Zack told me on the phone he needed help and hoped I might be willing to go undercover. Told him I’d at least listen to the story.”

“All I can ask,” Zack said. “Let’s sit and order. Then we’ll talk.

This is a great seafood restaurant.”

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“You grew up here in Minneapolis, didn’t you?” Max asked.

Zack nodded. “I enlisted in the army shortly after my first year in college. I come back periodically to see my folks, but haven’t spent much time overall.”

“Your dad’s here now, isn’t he?” Fairchild asked. “After clearing up the historical mess in New York City?”

Zack nodded. “Oh, here comes the waiter. Let’s order.”

After they ordered and he managed to take a sip of beer, Zack provided the background on what happened after his arrival in Minneapolis.

Powell lurched back. “The woman murdered? By a sniper?”

Zack nodded.

“Were you hurt?” Max asked.

Zack shook his head. “Jean was a good friend from my high school days. We need to find the guy who did it and put him in jail for a good long time.”

Fairchild reached into her briefcase. “I’ve been working with the FBI to take a look at the nursing homes her husband owns.”

She pulled out a sheet of paper. “There are a total of four and one more under construction. The four operational centers are one here in Minneapolis, one in Brainerd, about two hours north of here, one in Des Moines, and one just south of Minneapolis in Rochester. The one in Minneapolis is by far the largest.”

“Do they seem to be on the up and up?” Max asked.

“As far as we can tell. So far, they have all passed the required inspections and have never had any problems the FBI is aware of.”

Zack mentioned his trip to the center with Bonnie. “My being in the room upset her mother, so I walked to the end of the hall and encountered the memory unit. I spotted a door, opened it and heard a buzzer. In a moment, a guy came running toward me. Seemed to belong more in a Godfather movie than in a memory unit.”

Max started to laugh. “You do have a way with words.”

“The place felt wrong. Not something you should find in a memory unit for seniors. Why I think we need someone to go undercover and see what they can find out.”

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Fairchild pulled another sheet of paper out of her briefcase.

“The local center is in Richfield. Management has placed an ad in the paper for two receptionists. Using my FBI connections, I can create an alias for you along with a background that should pass any review if you go undercover.”

“They know me. Fairchild may have to head back to D.C.” Zack reached over and touched Max’s hand. “I don’t want to minimize the risk. If these guys are willing to kill the wife of the owner, they’ll stop at nothing to accomplish whatever they’re trying to do.”

He pulled out his phone and showed the photo to Max. “This clown followed me on the way to the airport. I shook him and hope Fairchild can get an ID.” Max passed the phone to Fairchild. “Any idea who he might be?”

Fairchild looked at the photo, shook her head. “Send me a copy. Guy is pretty well covered with the hat and sunglasses. I’ll see what I can find out.”

Max looked up. “Here comes our food. Never make any big decisions on an empty stomach.”

As they ate, Max asked, “How long do you think this will take?

Who will be my contact? What is our emergency exit strategy?”

Zack thought for a moment. “I can’t imagine more than a couple of days. If there is something there, we should find it pretty quickly. I’ll be close by all the time. We’ll rig your cell phone so you can call either one of us in the event of an emergency.”

Max looked off for a moment, then back at Zack. “Okay, let’s see how it goes. Actually could be interesting.”

“Thank you. I’ll be close in case you have any problems.”

52

10 Washington D.C. Monday 1:00 p.m.

Garcia escorted Scott into Admiral Steel’s outer office. She checked her watch, one o’clock. Right on time His receptionist looked up. “The admiral will be out shortly.”

Garcia motioned Scott toward a chair. “Have a seat. He never takes long.”

“I’m in awe of big deal guys in the White House,” Scott said.

“No need to rush on my account.”

In a moment, the inner door opened and Admiral Steele stepped out. “Hello to both of you. Scott, it’s good to see you again.”

Scott stood. “Good afternoon, sir. I’m glad you have time to hear my story. I think you’ll find it worth thinking about.”

“Garcia’s comments on the phone interested me. I’ve invited the FBI to join us. They should be here shortly.”

“Oh, great, the Feds. I always look forward to seeing them.”

Steele laughed. “When they find out you’re here, I’m sure they’ll be on their best behavior.”

“Yeah, right.”

As they moved toward the admiral’s office, the door to the hallway opened and two men in dark suits entered.

Garcia was amazed to see Director Burnside, but happy to see Agent Frank Harper with him. She and Harper had worked together on prior cases. He turned out to be an excellent partner.

Steele extended his hand. “Ambrose, I’m glad you could join us. I think you’ll find this worth your time.”

“Thanks for the invitation. As you know, we’re concerned with any issues that might play on the security of our election 53

Missing

process.” He turned to the other man. “Admiral, you might remember Senior Agent Frank Harper. He’s the chief of our computer security division. I thought he’d be interested in what your people have to say.”

Harper reached over to shake hands with Scott and Garcia.

“I definitely know these two as we worked together on the case where a group tried to hack into the Pentagon data base. How are you both doing?”

“Great seeing you again, Harper,” Scott said. “I note the Redskins need some help. Any chance of bringing you out of retirement.”

“I’d love it,” Harper said. “But my knee wouldn’t.” He turned to Garcia. “How is your brother doing?”

“Much better,” Garcia replied. “Thanks for asking. And I certainly remember Director Burnside. We had quite a few days together.”

“That we did,” Burnside replied.

“Okay,” Steele said, “let’s get inside where we can talk.”

After they were seated in Admiral Steele’s office, he turned to Scott. “Please share with the director what your investigation has uncovered so far.”

“Yes, sir. Last Saturday I was called to the home of Professor Jeremy Underwood on the campus of George Mason University.

One of his security officers had been murdered.” She briefed them on what she knew about the murder.

“Was anything stolen?” Burnside asked.

Scott nodded. “The professor has developed a new classified data system to provide security to our electoral process. He retained security agents for his home where a copy of the information was kept, all federally funded. This is why I contacted Colonel Garcia. “ “I’m glad you did,” Burnside said. “We’re aware of Professor Underwood’s work and believe it can be important during our next election. My office has heard about threats to our system from outside as well as inside the country.”

“Inside the country?” Garcia asked, her eyes wide. “Who would try and mess with the system from inside?”

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Agent Harper spoke up. “Someone who might not otherwise get elected.”

Garcia sat up straight and blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Harper glanced over at the director, who nodded. “We’ve received a number of tips the campaign of General Farmington may be trying to rig the election system.”

The bombshell silenced the room for a moment.

Admiral Steele pointed at Garcia. “I’ve asked Colonel Garcia to attend some of Farmington’s rallies. Why don’t you tell us what you’ve found so far.”

“Farmington is an excellent speaker who unfortunately possesses the capability to fire up a crowd. He believes we should strengthen our military to not allow smaller countries to push us around. He uses his extensive military experience to show the crowd why he can do a better job of protecting our country than the incumbent.”

“Let me insert something here,” Harper said. “We’ve checked his large donors and many of them are known to support a stronger military. As a former chairman of the JCS, he makes a compelling case.”

“I’d be concerned for any pacifists his followers may run into after the rallies. I believe they are capable of doing real damage.”

Admiral Steele turned again to Garcia. “Why don’t you share what you heard from Zack about what’s going on in Minneapolis.”

“Yes, sir. What started out as a fun high school reunion turned into a chilling murder by a sniper. And before the woman was shot, she told Zack she has concerns about a chain of nursing homes her husband owns. Zack never heard more before her death.”

“I’ve been briefed on the shooting by one of my agents,” Burnside said. “I didn’t realize Colonel Kelly was the person standing next to her when she was shot. Snipers always get my attention.”

“Zack seems to be handling it pretty well, but some of his high school classmates seem to be blaming him. One other point. He visited the nursing home. They are keeping memory care patients locked up. Why is that?”

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“I don’t know if this is relevant or not,” Burnside said. “It seems staff at the federal and state level have disappeared over the past month. What they seem to have in common is they all worked somewhere in the election system.”

Garcia and Scott looked at one another, eyes wide.

“Let me break in here,” Harper said. “I received a call from Fairchild. A female police officer has agreed to go undercover at the Minneapolis nursing home the victims’ husband owns. We’ve developed a false identity for her, and expect to have her ready to go for an interview in the next day or so.”

“Be careful,” Steele said. “Could be dangerous.”

“She understands the risk,” Harper said. “Zack and our team will keep a close eye on her.”

Burnside rose from his chair. “Keep me in the loop. If I can help, I will.”

“Will do, sir,” Garcia said. “I’ll continue to check on the progress of General Farmington and his campaign.”

“Okay,” Steele said. “It’ll be interesting to see if these cases are related.”

“They all seemed tied to the election process,” Burnside replied.

Steele nodded. “That’s what’s bothering me.”

56

11 Minneapolis, Wednesday, 7:30 a.m.

Max stepped out of the shower and toweled off. She looked in the mirror. Thought to herself, are you ready for this? She had spent the day working on her alias. Felt good about her story and watched herself in the mirror as she went through it one more time.

She was Maxine Petersen, a new transplant to Minneapolis from Atlantic City, New Jersey. She had worked in the casinos, where she’d met her husband, one of the dealers. She fell in love, big time. Then the drinking started. And it became more frequent. He turned mean.

She had told him if he ever hit her, that would be all she wrote.

One night, he came home drunk. Slapped her across the face, causing her to bang up against the wall. Afraid she had broken something, she screamed at him, which finally made him stop.

He turned and went into the bedroom, falling into a drunken slumber. She wrote the bastard a note, packed her bags, took a bunch of their stuff, most of the money, went outside and took the car. Wasn’t sure where she would go, only knew she couldn’t stay there.

She had a close friend from college who lived in Albert Lee, only ninety miles south of Minneapolis. It took almost two days to make the drive straight through, stopping for crying breaks along the way.

Her friend welcomed her and she had spent a week in Albert Lee. Knew she couldn’t stay there forever, so three days ago she left and drove up to the Twin Cities. She found a hotel room and 57

Missing

began searching for an apartment and a job. She spotted their ad in the paper and thought it would be a good job for her. Maybe provide her a future.

Not a bad story and seemed realistic. She had to work to get all of the names straight in her mind. Didn’t want any goofs to screw up the story. Names, dates, where she had lived, when she was born, all the materials in her papers.

Fairchild got her a complete set of papers, driver’s license, birth certificate, social security forms, everything. All of it looked real. Now she had to keep it all straight. No more Max Powell, but Max Petersen. ***** Sean O’Leary sat across the desk from Sonny Benson. He could understand Benson was upset. He shouldn’t have been caught by the security creep, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to admit it. Let Benson get over it on his own.

“Goddammit,” Benson yelled, “you had a key to the back door, the safe combination, everything I got from the agency for you. A quiet in and out. Their agents do it all the time. But no, you had to blow the guy away. Now every cop in town is looking for the shooter and a motive.”

O’Leary sat in silence and waited. Sonny had a hot temper, but he cooled off fast. “Yeah, I could have done it better.”

Benson threw a book against the wall. “No shit, you could have done it better. From what I hear, the FBI is involved. They are all hyper-in-the-diaper about security for the election. Now they know someone wants information about what they’re up to.

And they sure as hell are going to suspect me.”

“No proof, boss, no proof. They don’t have a thing to link the robbery to us. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. We just keep our mouths shut and deny any connection.”

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to put up with the fucking FBI sniffing around. We can’t let them link the break-in here to Michael’s shooting that broad in Minneapolis.”

“Now how in the hell are they going to do that? No tie at all.”

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“I don’t think they can either. But your screw-up probably will make them fucking think about it.”

O’Leary didn’t say anything. The boss did have a point. At times like this, just keep your mouth shut. Like a hurricane. Lay low and wait for it to blow over.

Benson took a deep breath. “Okay, what’s next?”

“I’ve got a kidnapping scheduled for tonight. We grab the babe off the street and put her on a plane to Minnesota. Then they’ll move her down to Minneapolis.”

“How many do we have so far?” Benson asked.

“Not sure. Michael will have a total.” He thought for a moment. “Should be about a dozen. We should be able to start putting them back again.”

“Who controls that?” Benson asked.

Sean shrugged. “I guess the doc in Minneapolis.”

“Okay. Stay on it.”

Sean figured he was out of hot water, so he stood and started for the door. Escape while you can—his motto.

Benson called, “Be careful in the future. We’re getting close.

No more screw-ups. Do you hear me? No more.”

Sean nodded and kept moving toward the door. Just go before the boss thinks of anything else you’ve done wrong.

59

12 Minneapolis, Wednesday, 9:00 a.m.

Max pulled the door to her hotel room shut behind her. She had stored most of her personal papers with Zack in case anyone poked their nose into her room. She figured gangs who worked with snipers were capable of almost anything.

Taking the elevator down to the first floor of the Hilton, she looked around, impressed with the lobby. Thought she’d better grab another cup of coffee on her way out. She needed to be at the top of her game. Checked her watch. Two minutes past nine, almost an hour before she needed to begin work at the senior center.

Taking the stairs down to the garage, she walked over to the Toyota Highlander the FBI had rented for her. Not a bad car. She had tested it last night, much faster than her Prius, but burned a lot more gas. She was caught between her concerns about fuel efficiency and her joy of a fast ride.

Starting the engine, she leaned over and checked the GPS to determine the fastest route. The hotel was only a few blocks from Interstate 35W, which would take her out to Richfield and the nursing home.

At first, she didn’t like the idea of being in the city since she’d be headed out to a suburb. Zack convinced her it would be harder for anyone to watch her.

She remembered back to the night when they had gone skinny dipping. It surprised her because she remained conservative about showing off her body, but somehow it had seemed right with Zack. Of course, a few glasses of wine had helped.

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She pulled herself back to the present. Focus. Pulling out of the garage, the GPS led her to the Interstate. Rush hour traffic had ended. The interstate would save her time. Good thing this was October before the ravages of winter.

She followed the interstate and exited where the GPS directed her. Drove over to Nicollet avenue and reached her destination a little before ten o’clock, giving her a few minutes to scout things out.

She parked in the front lot and walked up the sidewalk.

Instead of going right in the front door, she decided to walk around. The building stood on one floor, basically in the shape of a rectangle.

It wouldn’t hurt to get grounded in the area. Walking around to the back of the building, she spotted a garage with bays full of trucks and vans. She figured the trucks made sense, but why all the vans. Moving people?

Checking her watch, she saw the time closing in on ten, so she turned around and hurried back to the main entrance.

Elevator music played in the lobby and she admired the paintings on the walls. She didn’t recognize the names of the artists, but the outdoor scenes made her feel good. Drapes hung from the windows and thick carpet muffled noise. A comfortable welcome.

A receptionist with long red hair and large blue eyes sat at the desk. Max walked across the soft carpet. “Good morning. My name is Maxine Petersen. I have an appointment to interview for one of your receptionist positions.”

The receptionist glanced down at her book on the corner of her desk. “Yes, Ms. Petersen, I have your name right here. Your appointment is with our president, Mr. Jake Early. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Max leaned over the desk and asked, “May I ask what he’s like. You know, girl to girl.”

“He’s good looking and very nice. My only piece of advice is to keep your clothes on as he’ll try and get you out of them as quickly as he can.”

Max had to chuckle. “Oh, my, one of those.”

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She leaned forward. Max thought she caught a hint of a Swedish accent. “He has quite a reputation with the ladies. And you are pretty, so I suspect he’ll do what he can to get rid of your panties.”

“Thanks for the warning; I’ll do my best to keep them on.”

The receptionist dialed the phone, made a few comments. A short, well-built man stepped from one of the executive offices.

He extended his hand. “Maxine Petersen. Welcome. I’m Jake Early. Please come back to my office so we can talk.”

“Thank you, Mr. Early. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Jake, please.”

She followed him into his office. His arms bulged under his short sleeves and broad shoulders filled out his shirt. She remembered the story of the spider and the fly. She didn’t want to be the fly.

He pointed toward a chair, then pulled the door shut. The office had an oak desk in the center, with bookshelves along two walls filled with journals and books. The third wall included a bay window and three paintings of boats arranged around the window. In one corner, a stereo played classical music.

Max didn’t like being closed in his office, but not much she could do about it. She had to admit the office was tastefully decorated and hoped the interview would go well.

Early sat in a chair next to Max and asked, “Tell me a little about yourself. Why do you want a position in our organization?”

Max had practiced her pitch and laid it out. When she finished with her background, she said, “This is my first time in Minneapolis. I’m looking for a position I’ll be able to build on.”

Early patted her arm. “I understand. You look far more intelligent than most of the clerks answering our ads. We promote based on skill, not longevity. If you show talent, you’ll be rewarded. I expect you’ll shoot up the ladder.”

Max could feel Early boring a hole into her legs with his gaze.

“I understand you have two positions you are interviewing for.

When would you like me to start?”

“Both of the positions are open today, so you could start right away.”

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“Wonderful. I need a job so I can qualify for the down payment on a condo.”

“Then it’s settled. Why don’t you go down to the personnel office and fill out our paperwork? They’ll have questions for you to answer, then forms for you to fill out. It’s a little tedious, but really harmless and, yes, necessary.”

“What position are you considering me for?”

“It’s Jake, and I’m looking for an admin assistant. The interim isn’t doing the job. I hope you can come in tomorrow morning.

We officially begin at nine o’clock, but I often like to get in a little earlier, so maybe you could plan on arriving around eight-thirty.”

Max stood and shook hands with Early. “Thank you. I’ll see you then.”

He held on to her hand longer than necessary. Working with Early would be a challenge.

Max walked down the hall to find the personnel office. She passed the offices of the chief nurse, a logistics office, and the social worker’s office.

A tall, slender woman stepped out of the chief nurse’s office.

She stopped and looked at Max. “Good morning, I’m Margie Bryant, the chief nurse, May I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Max Peterson. I just signed on as Jake Early’s assistant. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Welcome aboard. I’ll be glad to provide you a short orientation when you have time.”

“I’d appreciate it. I have to go fill out personnel forms. But if you have time later in the morning, I’d appreciate a chance to talk with you. I’ll be more help to Mr. Early if I know a little about what’s going on and why.”

Bryant reached out her hand to Max. “Give me a call when you’re done with personnel. We’ll work out a time.”

Max shook the outstretched hand. “Thank you.”

As Max walked down the hall she thought it would be nice to have a female friend in court. Also, she wondered where she might be able to buy a pair of iron panties, chuckling as she walked.

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***** Three hours later, Max sat across from the chief nurse waiting for her to finish on the phone. When Bryant hung up Max said, “Thanks again for working me in. I know you must be busy.”

“I’ve always felt the more employees are informed, the better they can help do our job. Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, perhaps the executive summary.”

Max summarized what she had told Early. “What are your responsibilities?

“As chief nurse, I’ve got responsibility for the entire nursing program at all four of our facilities. We have 150 operating beds at this center, including our memory unit, and we normally run an eighty percent occupancy rate.”

“I’m interested in the memory unit. My dad had dementia, and I don’t believe the hospital properly cared for him. How does the unit work? Could I perhaps receive a tour?”

“I can’t take you into the memory unit. We have patients who are challenged, so we keep the ward closed. The rest of the facility should be no problem for you to visit.”

Interesting response. Were they hiding something?

A slender, Chinese man with thick glasses, a black bowtie, white shirt, and rumpled brown pants stuck his head in the door. “Margie, I need you. Two new patients are coming into the memory unit and we need to be prepared.” He turned toward Max and stopped. “Who you? What you doing here?”

“My name is Maxine Peterson. I’m Mr. Early’s new administrative assistant. Ms. Bryant was briefing me about the facility.”

He turned back to Bryant, his arms waving in the air. “Why she here? I need to talk with you about new patients in private.”

He seemed nervous. Why? Because she overhead him?

“Jake’s new assistant is here for orientation, “ Bryant said. “I know she won’t blab our secrets about the center. Isn’t that true?”

“Of course.” Max turned to the man. “May I ask who you are?”

He stared at Max, silent.

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Bryant jumped into the silence. “Ah, this is Doctor Wei, our medical director. He’s a psychiatrist and an expert on dealing with patients who have mental issues.”

Wei continued to glare at her.

Max figured she needed to make a quick exit. “Nice to meet you, Doctor.” Max stood. “Now, I think it’s time for me to leave.”

Bryant looked flustered. “Thank you for coming by. Please feel free to ask me any questions you might have. I know how difficult it is to be new and not understand our procedures.”

“I look forward to working with both of you and helping out wherever I can.”

She paused in the hallway to hear Bryant say, “Why did you act like that? She’s new and looks to be very good.”

Max hurried out to her car as she wanted to check the internet on Doctor Wei. What did he have to hide?

65

13 Richmond, Virginia, Wednesday, 8:30 p.m.

Sean O’Leary watched from the passenger seat of the car as the woman walked along the sidewalk, waiting for her to reach her apartment. He double-checked her description. Five foot, nine inches, long black hair, slender, 135 pounds, answers to Sylvia. Okay, it’s her.

Dumbo One sat behind the steering wheel and his buddy, Dumbo Two, in the back seat whistling the same tune over and over again. Sean was about to tell him to quit whistling when the woman reached the corner and turned left to walk up her street.

He never bothered to learn the names of these two clowns. Just needed to keep them straight so they knew if he was talking to them.

“Okay,” Sean said, “be ready. She’s almost at the door to her apartment. There she is, walking up the stairs. This will be as easy as the last one. Keep your fucking heads. All right, let’s go.”

He jumped out of the car and wandered down the sidewalk, not too fast. Don’t run. Never run. Always walk.

He signaled to slow Dumbo Two. Dumbo One had started the car and would be circling the block, hopefully not too hard for him to handle. He despised working with these two incompetents, but he had no choice.

Sean called out to the woman. “Excuse me, do you happen to know if Nancy Kline lives in your apartment building?”

She turned to look at him. “Why, yes, I believe she does.” He knew the answer as he had checked earlier before heading to the coffee shop to wait.

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He started up the stair, slowly, smiling. “Thank you. I’m her brother. Just arrived from New Mexico. I knew she lived close by, but wasn’t sure which building.”

Pulling the needle out of his pocket, he held it behind his back. When she reached the door, he pulled it out and stuck it in her arm as he slipped his hand over her mouth.

She pushed back against him and tried to scream, but his hand kept her quiet. She squirmed and wiggled for a few seconds as he expected, then fell against him.

He motioned to Dumbo Two to come up and help him escort the woman down the stairs. “Let’s hold her between us and walk down the stairs. Hurry.”

Dumbo grunted, and they led her down the stairs. A couple walked by and Sean looked over at them. “Poor lady had a little too much to drink at her birthday party. We hope to help her walk it off.”

When Dumbo One pulled up, Sean told Dumbo Two to get in the back. Then he eased the woman into the seat next to Two. He jumped into the front seat. “Okay, let’s go. Slowly.”

They pulled out and soon were weaving through the streets of Richmond on their way to the airport. At the terminal, they drove to the commercial air section and pulled up to a passenger plane. The plane was bigger than they needed, but beat the hell out of walking.

From the outside, you couldn’t tell who owned the plane.

Benson hadn’t had time to paint the logo, Patriot Party, on the side, but now it didn’t matter. He’d used it before, but it would have been a real pisser if he got the young lady on the wrong plane. He’d called and checked. The pilot gave him a verbal thumbs up. Fueled and ready to go.

He motioned to Dumbo Two. “Okay, let’s get her inside.”

They picked her up and carried her up the stairs. The two pilots stayed in the cockpit as they’d been told. A stewardess who had been sworn to secrecy waited onboard.

Sean yelled to Dumbo One, who waited at the base of the stairs. He appeared to be the more intelligent of the pair. “Take the car to the lot and catch a train home. Wait for my call.”

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Dumbo One gave a quick wave and got back in the car.

Sean called the cockpit and told the pilot to start the engines.

The stewardess pulled the outside door shut. He could hear the large engines cranking up. In a moment, the plane began to taxi down the runway. Smooth as silk. The boss would be pleased.

He leaned back in his chair. It would be a three-hour flight to northern Minnesota. When they were airborne, he unbuckled his seat belt and threaded his way to the small bedroom constructed behind the family area on the plane.

Dumbo Two snored quietly in one of the chairs. Sean could never figure out how he did it, sleeping in the middle of a job.

He poked the woman to be sure the drug kept her asleep. He’d tied her to the cot so worst case she’d wake up and start yelling.

Had not happened on the other flights because of the strong drugs, but would definitely cause concern with the stewardess.

Sean sat in the chair and watched the woman for a few minutes. What would she sense when she woke up? Absolute confusion. But lady, just wait, he thought, you ain’t seen nothing yet.

Sometimes he wished for a doctor on board the plane in case the woman had some sort of reaction to the drug, but old Sonny Benson wasn’t having any part of it. One more person to kill along the way. Besides, if the babe had some sort of reaction to the medicine, he could always kill her and throw her out of the plane.

The thought made him laugh. Sean, he thought, you are a real asshole. But that’s what made the two brothers so valuable to Benson. Why he made so much dough each trip.

A small galley stood in the front of the cabin with a pot for coffee. With two hours left on the flight, he pulled a packet out of the cupboard, dropped it into the machine and pressed the button. When it was done, he poured a cup, congratulating himself on another successful mission.

The plane touched down at ten-fifteen central standard time.

They’d picked up one hour on the time change. The ground crew guided the plan to a spot near the commercial storage area. A van pulled up. Dumbo Two helped him offload the woman into 68

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a vehicle. Sean breathed a sigh of relief. Benson had nothing to bitch about this time. ***** After the meeting with Admiral Steele and Director Burnside, Garcia and Scott were both swamped with things to do. They agreed to get together in a day or so after they’d had time to do some research.

The next day, Garcia called Scott and suggested they include Agent Harper. He’d been very helpful in helping her gather material and could probably do a better job of explaining what he’d found.

“If you think so,” Scott replied. “You know I’m not a big fan of the Feds.”

“I know, but I think Harper’s a good guy.”

“Okay. Mr. Good Guy can buy the coffee.”

They finally agreed on Wednesday evening and set a time for nine o’clock. Garcia walked into the coffee shop, but didn’t spot Scott. She picked a booth, ordered coffee and a sandwich.

She had taken a sip of her coffee when Scott walked in, followed by Agent Harper. Garcia stood and waved. “Over here.

I got a booth in the corner. Figured we’d have some degree of privacy. Oh, here comes our waitress.”

“Good deal. I’m famished.” Scott’s gaze took a quick rundown of the menu and she ordered coffee and a grilled cheese sandwich.

Harper settled for coffee.

After they ordered, Garcia glanced around to make sure no one could hear her, then said, “Let me tell you about what I found out about Professor Underwood.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Scott replied. “Something about the guy didn’t ring right. Here we have a couple of college professors not only living in this mansion on a college campus, but all the expensive paintings and furniture. How could they afford it?”

Garcia took a sip of her coffee, then pulled some papers out of her briefcase, setting them next to her in the booth. “You just hit the first item that didn’t add up to me. Both of their parents 69

Missing

came from educator families. No big bucks in either family. They received money from guess who?”

“Farmington?” Scott ventured.

“Not quite straight. They received the money to buy the house from one of Farmington’s big-time donors. Somewhere in the materials, I saw where the donor had a special feeling for educators and thought the project they were working on was critical to the health of the country and our electoral system.”

Harper scratched his head. “What a bunch of crap. Big bucks to outfit a mansion for a couple of profs. And where did the money come from to do this big hairy study that seemed to be what our thief was looking for?”

Garcia took out another paper. “Much of the money came from a private donor, although they did compete for money from the government. I suspect to give his study some degree of credibility.”

Scott took a sip of coffee and looked off for a moment. “Now, if we think the Farmington campaign is somehow behind the theft, then why would they need to steal it? Wouldn’t Underwood give it to them? Maybe sneak them a copy?”

“Sure. But if they were going to use parts of it to help their candidate, which makes sense, then all of the parties would have had the same information. And I suspect they didn’t want that to happen.”

Scott thought for a moment. “Hard not to share. I mean, it’s a government study.”

“True,” Garcia replied. “But I found out because of its possible political import down the road, and they had classified it Top Secret. Probably why they had the security outfit in the house.”

“Ah ha,” Scott replied. “Meaning they had to account for all of the copies and sign it in and out of the safe.”

“Absolutely,” Garcia replied. “It’s possible the robbery was meant to shortcut the whole process and not let anyone else look at it.”

“What about the wife?” Scott asked.

“Born and raised in Russia,” Harper replied.

Scott let out a gasp. “Russia?”

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Harper nodded. “ Educated in Leningrad, then came to the United States in 1990 to do her Ph.D. work at Harvard University,” Scott rolled her eyes. “Bet that’s where she met Professor Underwood?”

Harper gave her a thumbs up. “You are one smart lady. The next question is was it a chance meeting or pre-ordained in Russia, maybe?”

Scott stared at Garcia for a moment. “This thing keeps getting darker and darker by the moment.

“I suggest we talk to the prof and his lovely bride again.”

Harper nodded. “Absolutely.”

Garcia took another sip of coffee. “And sooner rather than later.”

Harper nodded again. “I’ll set it up.”

71

14 Sleepy Valley Retirement Home, Thursday, 7:45 a.m.

Max parked her car in the employee parking lot. Looking in the mirror one last time, she felt ready for whatever headed her way. Jake Early to be exact.

Last night she had talked to Zack and the two made arrangements to meet for dinner. He agreed to check out the background of the doctor at the center.

She looked forward to spending time with Zack, but knew she needed to keep her head in the game. A misstep today could be deadly.

Getting out of her car, she walked to the employee entrance on the side of the facility and pushed in the key card to open the door. Curiosity burned in her brain, but knew she had to walk straight to her new office so as not to raise attention. No sneaking around.

When Max passed the receptionist, the receptionist called in a high-pitched voice, “Welcome aboard. I hope you enjoy working here. I sure do.”

Max walked over to her desk and stopped. “You probably remember, I’m Maxine, but my friends call me Max.” The receptionist smiled. “Hi, Max. If I can help you get organized, please let me know. Did Jake show you the employee manual?”

“Come to think of it, he didn’t.”

She reached into her desk and pulled out a notebook. “Men, what a pain. I’ll give you my copy. If there isn’t one in your desk, I’ll get you a copy.”

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Max took the notebook. “Thanks. I’ll take a quick look through it. Doesn’t seem too thick so won’t take long. I should have it back to you this afternoon if Jake doesn’t keep me running.”

She hurried back to Early’s outer office and sat at her new desk.

A comfortable desk and chair, two bookshelves, and a window with drapes and shears to mute the outside light. Her MacBook Pro looked relatively new. Using the password she’d been given in personnel, she booted up her computer and checked it out.

The phone rang. She looked around, then figured she’d better answer it. “Hello, this is Mr. Early’s office. Max speaking.”

A deep voice boomed from the phone. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Mr. Early’s new secretary. Who might I ask are you?”

“Where’s Early?”

“He hasn’t come in yet. May I give him a message?”

“Yeah. Tell him to call Sean. I’m here in Brainerd. I’ve got the package.”

The line went dead.

Max hung up her phone. Now who is this guy and what is his package? She made a mental note to remember Sean and Brainerd. He sounded promising.

She took time to look at the employee manual, then reviewed the files in the office as well as at her desk. Nothing unusual so far. Just normal organizational materials, results of inspections, and personnel papers.

As she continued to go through the desk, she heard a noise behind her and looked up to see Jake Early coming through the door. He stopped and looked down at her. “What a pleasure to see you behind the desk. You add a nice touch to the office. I’m delighted you accepted my offer.”

“Actually, Jake, I’m happy to get the job. Now I can finalize the short lease on my apartment and maybe start looking for a condo. So, thank you again for selecting me. Oh, by the way, I don’t want to forget to tell you Sean called. He’s rather brusk, but did say he’s in Brainerd and has the package.”

She noticed Jake’s eyes widened. “Damn. How long ago?”

“Probably twenty minutes. He wanted you to return his call.”

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“Okay. I’d better get on the phone.”

Max leaned forward. “I don’t know what you want me to do.

Is there any chance I could look around? I’d like to get a feel for the center.”

“Let me call Sean, then I’ll show you around.”

“I don’t want to hold you up. How about if I go out and start meeting people.”

He looked a little startled. “Ah, no. We don’t like people just poking around. Let me show you our building. I won’t be long.”

She took a deep breath and leaned back, her eyes open a little more. She tried to conceal her surprise, but must have failed.

Early must have read her look of surprise. “It’s not we have any big secrets. It’s some of our wards are closed because of the nature of our patient load. I need to show you where you can go and where it’s better if you only enter with another staff member.

I shouldn’t be more than maybe fifteen minutes.”

She recovered. “No problem. I’ll be checking my area here and getting organized until you’re done.”

He turned and walked into his office, closing the door.

Darn, she thought, she wanted to hear the conversation. Sean sounded like a person of interest. One of the lines lit up on the phone. How she’d like to pick it up and listen, but Jake would hear the sound of her picking up. No way could she make that kind of mistake.

In a few minutes, the light on the phone went out and he stepped out of his office. “Okay, let’s go.”

Max followed him down the main corridor, looking in offices along the way. He introduced her to the social worker and the chief of logistics.

She had to remember their names so she could share them with Zack. It would be important to check out the background of the staff. If there was anything untoward going on in the facility, the various chiefs had to be involved. She wished Margie was around. She’d like to follow up with her.

When they reached the main lobby, Early turned and Max followed him up another corridor. “You’ll notice there are many two-person rooms around the center core. In all of our different 74

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patient areas — regular, assisted living, and memory units — many of these are two-person rooms where they share a bath.

Patients often prefer a less expensive room. We do, however, have single rooms people can have upon request.”

Early explained the type of patient on each of the wards. Two wards were listed as memory units.

“These are our most intensive care units. Most of the folks on these units have dementia of some sort. The wards are divided by the severity of the patient’s dementia.”

Early pointed down the hall. “Let’s skip the assisted living area for now and to save time, let’s see if one of the memory care rooms is available.”

They reached the memory care wards. The door to one ward had a closed sign and looked to be locked. Early stopped and turned to Max. “This is a closed ward. No one but ward personnel is allowed.”

“What about families?” Max asked.

“No families. Only staff. I don’t want you going on this ward.

It’s completely closed.”

She squinted at him with a puzzled look on her face. “I don’t understand.”

“I know it sounds funny, but the policy is for the safety of the patient and the staff as well. These people have severe problems and may lash out at anyone who tries to enter or even talk to them.”

“Okay,” Max said. “Any other sensitive areas?”

“The rest of the building is tied into normal senior living. One of the advantages of living here is if an elderly person exhibits some sort of medical problem, we will take care of them until they’re better. Also, there are many activities every day for our patients to enjoy. These include a library, gym, and game room.”

“Is this what I’ve heard people call life care?” Max asked.

“Absolutely. Now I need to get back and let our staff know Sean will be bringing in a patient. We’ll need to be ready to accept that patient later on today.”

Max turned back toward the office. “Okay, let’s go.”

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As she walked with Early, ideas rushed through her mind.

She needed to give Zack a call on the cell he had provided for her. First, to provide names of key personnel to check out and secondly to tell him about the call from Sean and the fact that a special patient would be arriving this afternoon. ***** When they returned to the office, Early hurried into his office to make some calls. Max sat at her desk and took the opportunity to check files, then made a list of supplies she would need. She’d have to wait a reasonable time before she could go outside to call Zack.

Hearing some banging, she realized someone moved around in the office next to Early’s. Curious, she stood and walked over to the adjoining area and looked around the edge of the door frame.

Behind the desk sat a man with curly brown hair and what looked to be reading glasses sitting on his nose. Looked to be the opposite of Jake Early, heavy-set and not in very good shape.

Wrinkled shirt and loose tie.

“Good morning,” She said, “I’m Maxine Petersen, the new administrative assistant.”

When the man glanced up, he stared at her through bloodshot eyes. He’d obviously been crying. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you at the door. I’m Freddie Tyson. Jake and I own the center.”

“I’ve heard your name,” Max replied. “I’m so sorry to hear about your wife, Mr. Tyson. A terrible thing. So many people are killed with guns these days.”

Tyson glared at her. “Bullshit. From what I’ve been hearing, this damn thing has the potential of being intentional. In other words, murder.”

Max knew the story, but wanted to hear what Tyson had to say about it. “My goodness, why would anyone shoot your wife?”

Tyson jumped up and started to yell. “I don’t think they were after my wife. I think the bastard was shooting at Kelly and hit my wife by mistake. I hope they send Kelly to jail forever.”

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“Why would anyone want to shoot this Kelly?”

“He works with secret stuff in the government. Who knows all the enemies he’s made over his time in the army.”

Max decided she’d best play along. She could feel his gaze moving up and down her body. “How awful. How are you doing, Mr. Tyson?”

“Not worth a damn as you can probably tell. And the name is Freddie.”

“Okay. I understand Jake may be leaving soon if he has not already left. He received a call from Sean somebody in Brainerd.

I’m not exactly sure where he went.”

Tyson’s eyes widened. “Could it have been O’Leary?”

A break. Max filed the name away. “I’m sorry, but he didn’t give me his last name. He just said, Sean in Brainerd. Did I read in the literature you also have a nursing home in Brainerd?”

“That’s right. We have four total.”

“Maybe this Sean has a special patient who requires unusual care.”

Tyson didn’t respond, but sat and looked down at his desk.

From what Max could tell he looked as if he might be crying again. She felt sorry for him. How terrible to lose your wife, particularly by someone shooting her.

After a couple of minutes, Max turned and walked back to her desk. Now, who is Sean O’Leary and why is he calling from Brainerd?

77

15 George Mason University, Fairfax Co, Va, Thursday, 1:00 p.m.

Lieutenant Scott and Special Agent Harper walked up the seven stairs to the front door of the Underwood home and knocked. Scott glanced up at the roof. “Looks like the house has two dormers and a large chimney stack on the right side of a dome roof. Pretty fancy.”

“I suspect someone built this mansion a long time ago,” Harper said. “Probably has an interesting history.”

Scott had called a couple of hours earlier and ascertained that Maude Underwood would be there at one o’clock. It took a few minutes for Underwood to open the door. Scott figured with a house of this size, it could take weeks to walk from one end to the other.

“Good afternoon, Lieutenant. And who is it you have with you?”

“Special Agent Harper from the FBI.” Underwood raised her eyebrows. “My goodness, the FBI. Is this such a big case you need to call in the FBI?” This woman frustrated Scott. “Mrs. Underwood, we are investigating a murder and the possible theft of classified documents. I would say we have more than enough reason to call in the FBI.” “Oh, my, I guess I could have said it much better. Please enter our house.”

Still has a Russian accent. “Thank you.”

Underwood led them through a hallway with a chandelier full of lights. Scott looked in the dining room as they walked past 78

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it. A circular table with almost a dozen chairs around it. Were these two big-time entertainers? Who? Scott followed her into a living room, which must have been about 20 feet by 20 feet. A sofa angled up against one wall and a love seat had been placed under a double pane window.

Underwood motioned them to a grouping of four wingback armchairs. These profs had plenty of room for only two people.

“Would you like coffee?” Underwood asked.

Scott looked at Harper who nodded. “That would be nice.”

“It’s all made. Please seat yourself. I return soon.”

When she walked out to get the coffee, Scott glanced around the room, then whispered to Harper. “Someone murdered the security guy upstairs in the den, the same room as the safe which held Underwood’s stolen study.”

Harper nodded.

“The murderer entered through the back door, we believe he had a key, went upstairs, did the deed, then left through the back door without any trace of fingerprints or DNA.” Before Harper could comment, Underwood returned with a pot of coffee and four cups as well as chocolate chip cookies on a silver tray. “Do either take cream?”

They both shook their heads. She poured coffee and offered the plate of cookies.

“Thank you for the coffee and the cookies,” Scott said. “We’re here to follow up on our conversation of last Saturday and to update Agent Harper on the case. First let me ask, where were you when someone shot the security guard?”

“As I believe my husband told you, we visit friends in the city so didn’t get back until late. When returned, many police cars on the street and in drive. Very scary.”

“I’ll bet,” Scott replied. “About what time?”

“Maybe three o’clock.”

“Pretty late?”

Underwood nodded. “Not normally so late, but at a party in the city so we late.”

“I’ll need the names of your hosts,” Scott said.

“You don’t trust?” Underwood asked.

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“Nope. Don’t trust anyone in a murder investigation. Now, Agent Harper has a few questions.”

“I understand you were born and raised in Russia?” Harper asked.

“That’s right. Come to America when I, ah, twenty. Wanted to go to school.”

“Did you have problems leaving Russia?”

Underwood shook her head. “Why ask?”

“I’ve always heard it’s tough to leave Russia. Hard to get out.”

“Not to go to school.”

Harper looked at his notes. “I bet it helped your father was a colonel in the KGB.” Underwood’s eyes widened. “I thought I could put behind me. I’ve tried to live a good life in my new country and be a good citizen.”

Scott leaned forward. “Not when your former country could be hacking into our election system, and your husband has a government contract to protect the system. The fact your father was in the KGB and someone stole the documents designed to protect our election system, well, you must see we do have concerns.”

“Please leave or I will call my attorney. I try to help, but no more. You both nasty.”

Scott stood. “All right, we will leave, but we must ask you and your husband not to leave the area until our investigation is completed.”

Underwood glared at Scott, but didn’t say anything.

As she walked toward the hallway, Scott looked back at Underwood. “Please stay where you are. We can see ourselves out.” ***** Once they reached the outside and climbed into the police car, Scott glanced over and saw a car sitting across the street with two men inside it, both looked to be in ties and coats. “Suits,” she said, “I hate to have them around my crime scene. Probably Feds.”

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Harper looked over his shoulder. “Don’t believe those two are FBI.” “Now why the hell would two suits be sitting outside the Underwood house?” She turned to Harper. “What do you think?”

Harper glanced at them again. “I don’t believe they were there when we arrived. But you know what, we’ll never know if we don’t go over and ask.”

“Cover me. I’m going to find out who those two clowns are.

They can’t just happen to be sitting outside the site of a murder and missing classified materials.”

Scott climbed out of the car and strolled over to the suits. She knocked on the window and flashed her badge. “Hey, open the window. I have some questions for you.”

The driver rolled down the window. Short dark hair, square jaw, no smile. “Can I help you, officer?”

“Could you show me some identification, please?”

“Look, you have no reason to check us out. We’re not doing anything wrong. Now why don’t you move along like a good girl?”

Harper stood about twenty feet behind Scott and must have heard the exchange. He smiled and shook his head, then took a couple of steps closer to the car.

Scott saw red. No one spoke to her like that. “All right, asshole, I tried to be nice, but obviously it didn’t work with you. Now, I’m telling you to show me some identification or I’m going to call in a couple of squad cars and have you arrested.”

The driver must have realized he overstepped with Scott.

“Look, officer, we don’t want trouble. Why don’t you go back to your car? We can forget this ever happened.”

“Listen, dumb shit, I’m here conducting an investigation.

You are about to be arrested for compromising my investigation.

Now, do you show me some ID or do I call the squads?”

The other man in the front seat reached over. “Lieutenant, could you please come around to this side. I’ll be happy to show you my ID. I believe we can work this out.”

Scott was about to tell him to get bent when she figured, why not? “But, you better make this good.” She glanced at Harper.

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“Keep an eye on them. I’m trying to muzzle my temper and work this out.”

As she walked around the front of the car, the man in the passenger seat stepped out of the car and reached into his suit pocket. About as tall as Scott, slightly balding, in a brown suit, he pulled out a billfold and waited for Scott to reach him. “Look, I’m sorry for the confrontation. We are here on a parallel mission and perhaps we can work together.”

“Maybe you and I can work together, but I doubt I can work with the jerk behind the wheel.” She looked down at the billfold.

Shining up at her was the shield of the Central Intelligence Agency. “CIA?” she whispered.

“That’s right, Agent Samuel Wright. We’re not sure what we have here, but I think it’s something. Do you suppose we could go somewhere and talk? Maybe compare notes?”

By this time, Agent Harper had come up behind the two. He handed the CIA agent his billfold with his FBI shield. “It seems we have a number of agencies involved in this investigation. I think it would be good to compare notes.”

“I agree,” Scott said. “I know where there is a coffee shop.

Let’s go there.”

“Sounds good to me,” Wright said. “We’ll follow you.”

Scott and Harper walked back to Scott’s car. When they got in, Scott looked over at Harper. “Things just got a lot more interesting.

Harper smiled. “No kidding.”

82

16 Shady Lane Nursing Home, Thursday, 2:00 p.m.

Max sat at her desk, trying to keep occupied when she heard a noise outside her window. She peeked out of the window, remembering Jake’s concern. She’d learned a long time ago the boss may not always be right, but he’s always the boss.

Early stood in the doorway at the side entrance to the facility, two staff attendants next to him. The group watched as a panel truck backed up to the door, an unmarked vehicle, not an ambulance.

She kept her gaze on the scene. Two people she didn’t know got out of the front seat. She wondered if one of them was the man she had talked to on the phone, the mysterious Sean O’Leary.

The attendants opened the back door of the van, then pulled a stretcher out of the vehicle and set it up to wheel the patient inside the facility.

Early held the door as the staff wheeled the person, not too large — might be a woman — into the building followed by the two men. Why would Early be involved in bringing a new patient into the memory care unit? Who was the patient and who in the world was Sean O’Leary?

“What are you doing?”

She jumped as she hadn’t heard anyone sneak in behind her.

She turned to see Tyson watching her. “Oh, my, you startled me.”

“What are you looking at?”

She had to be careful here. Who’s the good guy and who isn’t?

“I heard a noise outside and wondered what it might be. I saw a vehicle pull up to the back door of the nursing home. Surprised me.”

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He squinted his eyes, probably a little skeptical at her response. “We receive patients all the time. Shouldn’t be any big deal.”

She tried to pick her words. “I thought most of the patients coming into a nursing home would come in under their own power. Not too many by ambulance or on a stretcher.”

Jake Early walked into the office and saw the two talking to each other. “I’m glad to see you two have met. Max is our new administrative assistant.”

Tyson nodded. “We definitely need some new administrative power.”

Max decided to take a flyer. “I heard the vehicle arrive.

Watched you unload the patient from the van. Is she okay?”

She caught Early glancing at Tyson. “Ah, yeah, she’s fine.

Apparently, they had to give her something to calm her down before they brought her in. She’ll be fine.”

“I’m just trying to get my hands around how things work. Oh, were you able to catch up with Sean? He seemed really interested in talking to you.”

Early nodded. “I called him.”

“Okay,” Max said. Guess I’d better get back to work before I get in more trouble. ***** Scott walked into the coffee shop, followed by Agent Harper.

A small shop with only ten tables, but excellent coffee and tasty muffins. She picked a table in the back and ambled over to order coffee and a pastry. Glanced back at Harper. “Can I get something for you?”

“Just coffee. Thanks.”

She poured the coffees and headed back to the corner table.

They would bring the muffin after they heated it for her. The staff knew what she liked. Nice to be a regular.

About the time she sat down, Agent Wright walked into the coffee shop. He waved and called, “Gonna get coffee.”

When he reached the table, Scott asked, “Where’s your partner?”

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“He decided to wait in the car. I’m not sure he would have been helpful in our discussions. Would you be willing to go over what you know so far?”

Scott rubbed her chin and watched Wright. “I don’t know.

What are you going to do for me?”

“How about if I tell you why we’re here?”

“Deal.” Scott reviewed what had happened the preceding Saturday night and her progress so far which wasn’t much.

“Do you have any suspects?” Wright asked.

“Nothing solid yet. The assailant must have worn gloves and didn’t leave any DNA, at least not that we have found so far. We believe it’s a pro. A shot to the chest, then two more into the head just to make sure.”

Wright nodded. “Does sound professional. You’re probably aware we had classified the study Top Secret.”

“Why?” Scott asked. “Isn’t that a pretty high classification?”

“It is,” Wright replied. “You’ve undoubtedly read about all of the past concerns with foreign interference in our election process.”

“The FBI has been going crazy trying to stay ahead of hackers,” Harper said. “Each state has its own ballot access laws to determine who may appear on ballots and who may not.”

He took a sip of coffee. “According to the Constitution, the authority to regulate the time, place, and manner of federal elections is up to each state, unless Congress legislates otherwise.

That one line causes real headaches for us sometimes.”

Wright nodded. “We understood Professor Underwood to be on the track of a system to block hackers. If it were possible to centralize control of elections in Washington, they would be much easier to protect.”

“How are you doing at blocking hackers?” Scott asked.

“To be honest, actually not worth a damn against foreign hackers,” Wright said. “We’ve got indications the Russians, the Chinese, and the Iranians are all going after our systems. They want to create chaos during elections so voters lose confidence in the system and figure why bother to vote?”

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Harper put down his coffee cup. “The CIA is worried about international hackers, but now we’re worried about hackers inside our country.”

Scott raised her eyebrows and almost choked on her coffee.

“Who? “The normal thrill-seekers,” Harper continued. “Hackers, mostly youngsters, trying to show what they can do. They do cause problems, but the real concern is larger groups who are professional and better organized.”

Scott leaned forward. “Who might that be?”

“We’re beginning to hear about election officials from around the country who are disappearing?” Harper said.

“What do you mean, disappearing?” Wright asked. “Like being kidnapped?”

“To be honest, it may be a coincidence, but in six states so far, we’ve received reports of state election officials who, all of a sudden, have disappeared with no warning.”

“At the state level?” Wright asked.

“Right. Each state is responsible for developing policies for their state and providing funding to purchase new machines.

Senior staff from these states have all of a sudden gone missing.”

“Maybe these are just random happenings?” Scott said, not really believing it herself.

Harper shook his head. “Could be, but I don’t think so.”

Scott took a sip of coffee. “As you know, I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“The interesting issue is one of the staffers is back and acting strangely.”

“Strangely?”

Harper took a last sip of coffee. “Either doesn’t remember what she did or doesn’t want to talk about it.”

Wright put down his coffee cup. “Now you see why we’re concerned. Doesn’t make sense is a red flag to me.” He stood.

“Thank you for the update. I look forward to working with you as this moves along.”

As he walked out the door, Scott followed him with her gaze.

“I don’t believe for a minute that clown wants to work with us 86

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other than to pick our brains. He didn’t give us his purpose in being here. I don’t see him sharing a thing.”

“I agree,” Harper said. “I’m going to find out what I can about Agent Wright. I’ll be interested in what section of the CIA he inhabits.”

Scott laughed. “Probably the sneaky part.”

87

17 Minneapolis, Thursday, 6:00 p.m.

Zack had called Max earlier and made arrangements to pick her up. He drove past the hotel once, turned left and went around the block. When he came back, he drove slowly past the hotel, then parked halfway down the block. Max stepped out of a Starbucks doorway, hurried to his car and jumped inside.

“Hey, this spy stuff is kinda exciting.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to have any troubles with Early and his crew.”

“Thanks. I don’t want any problems either. These guys are careful who sees what around the facility.”

“How’s Italian sound?” Zack asked. “I know a wonderful Italian restaurant where we can talk.”

She smiled. “Sounds perfect. I love Italian.”

“I remember. No way Early will be able to stick his big nose into our quiet dinner.” Zack hit the gas pedal and pulled away from the curb. He looked over at her. “How ya doing? Having any second thoughts about being undercover?”

“So far, so good. I’m Early’s administrative assistant, so I should have access to all of the information in his office. I have to be careful until I learn his schedule.”

“What else?” Zack asked.

“One of the things I wanted to talk to you about was a panel van, which brought in someone on a stretcher. I heard the vehicle and watched out the window. Neither Tyson nor Early seems pleased I saw it.”

Zack raised his eyebrows. “Be careful. If these guys are behind the murders, they won’t hesitate to stop you.”

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“I’ll be careful. Can’t appear to be nosy.”

Zack pulled into a lot, parked and turned off the engine. He got out and walked around to open the door for Max. “Come out, my lady. Let’s go eat.”

She offered her hand. “Thank you.”

Once they got inside, a maitre de greeted them and motioned for the two to follow her. “Your table is this way.”

Max looked around. “Look at those arched ceilings and all the windows. I bet it’s nice and bright during the day. And all the round tables. Gives me a feeling of friendliness.”

The maitre de placed menus on a table. “Here is your table.

I do love the sun and it’s wonderful during the day.” She pulled out chairs for each of them. “Your waitress will be with you in a minute.”

Zack held the chair for Max. “Please have a seat.”

After they were seated, the waitress came over. “Can I offer you something to drink?”

Zack looked at Max. “How about a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon?”

Max smiled back. “You read my mind.”

“No, I remember from before.”

She took his hand. “Thank you.”

After the waitress left to get their wine, Zack said, “I want to apologize. We had such a great time working together. I should have followed up after we arrested the Dark Angel. I guess life got in the way.”

“I kinda wondered about that.” She leaned over and whispered, “To be honest, I have to admit it’s not every day I go skinny dipping with a guy.”

“I’d like to try and make it up to you.”

“Okay, all is forgiven.” She started to smile. “That is, assuming I like the wine.”

Zack had to laugh. “I’ve been here before and they do have a good wine list. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

The waitress brought their wine, poured a taste for Zack, who nodded his approval, and poured each of them a glass.”

Zack raised his glass in a toast. “To a beautiful woman and to a great friendship. Then, who knows.”

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Max braced herself on her elbows and held the wineglass near her face with both hands. She raised her glass and took a sip. After they had each taken a sip, Max reached over and kissed him on the cheek. “Yes, who knows.”

Zack leaned back. Man, she could really kiss. He loved it. So soft and gentle, but with a hint of something more. “Now, how about something to eat?”

Max picked up her menu. “What do you recommend?”

“It’s all great. I’ve had the Linguine Di Mare, which is a combination seafood. The Wild Mushroom Risotto is tasty. They recommend the red wine with the Herb Linguini with braised lamb. Oops, one more. The Tortellini Rosso is good, too.”

Max smiled. “So many choices. But I’ve gotta try the Wild Mushroom Risotto. I mean, I do feel kinda wild tonight.”

Her comment caught Zack’s attention and he glanced over to see a smile on her face. “Okay, let me try the Linguine Di Mare.”

Once they had ordered, Max whispered, “Early hired me to be his administrative assistant, which should be good for us.” She chuckled. “The receptionist told me to wear my iron panties and be sure to keep them on.”

Zack had to laugh with her. He loved her laugh. “Seems to me that’s pretty good advice.”

“Poor guy tries too much, I’ll spin a spell on him.”

Zack laughed again. He remembered their discussion of her gypsy roots. “Maybe we can check out one of your spells tonight?”

“We’ll see. First, let’s talk business. I took a call from a guy, very coarse. Wanted to know where Early was. Had to talk to him. Said to tell Early Sean called from Brainerd and wanted a return call.”

“Damn, we need a last name.”

“I figured.”

Zack’s eyes widened. “Did you get it?’

Max nodded. “I mentioned the call to Tyson and he let it slip that it was Sean O’Leary.”

“Hey, that’s great. Sean O’Leary from Brainerd. I’ll ask Fairchild to check it out.”

“Yep. Now do I get a gold star.”

Zack raised his glass in a toast. “You bet.”

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***** Roger Kelly had spent the past twenty-four hours thinking about Debbie Swenson’s disappearance and had called Inspector York who headed the inquiry twenty years before. Together, they reviewed all of the pertinent materials from his investigation.

Roger asked the detective to focus on anything he might have missed. Not much luck there. York believed he’d done everything possible to find the kidnapper and the body.

Still convinced York may have missed something, Roger decided to give him another call. After introductions again, Roger jumped right into it. “You’re sure she’s dead?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Where else would she be? People don’t disappear for twenty years.”

You have no idea, Roger thought. I disappeared for thirty years. “What about Early? Could he have been involved? Some fight behind the two of them, which went downhill?”

“Nah. We went over him with a fine-tooth comb. He had an iron-clad alibi.”

“But his parents provided the alibi. Couldn’t they lie?” Roger asked. “Seems to me they would be protective of him.”

“He stayed up at the lake with them when she disappeared.

Pretty hard to fake a trip to Long Lake.”

Yeah, Kelly thought. His parents. “Thanks again for your help. If you think of anything else that might be helpful, anything at all, please let me know.”

“Will do, Roger, and good luck.”

“Oh,” Roger added, “do you have any idea how Detective Barrington is doing with the investigation of the shooting at the Calhoun Beach Hotel last Friday?”

“Everyone is talking about it. When I went in to review the file, I saw Barrington. He’s really frustrated. Hasn’t been able to come up with much. I heard about ten minutes after the shooting, a taxi exploded a couple of blocks away. Barrington figured the explosion got rid of fingerprints, DNA and everything else belonging to the shooter.”

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“No one saw the driver?”

“Apparently a couple of people saw a man. Tall, slender, had a hat on with the collar up on his jacket. Jumped into an old Plymouth, which I suspect has been left somewhere. They put out an APB on the car.”

“Not much there,” Roger replied. “Sounds like the work of a professional.”

“That’s the way Barrington sees it. The question is motive.

Why shoot this young lady on a porch outside the Calhoun Beach Hotel? She doesn’t seem to have an enemy in the world.”

“I agree. Why would a professional be here in Minneapolis shooting a young woman at her high school reunion? No one shoots somebody with a high-velocity sniper rifle for fun.”

“Sorry,” York replied. “Wish I could be more help.”

Roger heard the line go dead.

Roger figured he needed to check on Early some more. He’d learned over his years as a cop to watch out for the boyfriend.

Particularly if the girl he’d been dating decided to break up with him. Also he wondered why Early had decided to open his second nursing home in Brainerd. Of all the towns in Minnesota, why Brainerd? Many larger towns in the state.

He wanted to spend more time talking with Zack about Debbie and Bonnie. Then he wanted to go to Brainerd and look into the nursing home. See if he could find any background on Early. He’d also heard Early had a cabin near Brainerd. The Northwoods would be a great place to hide a body.

After giving it more thought, he came up with a plan that could work if he got help from Fairchild. With any luck, they could leave in the morning.

He had promised Bonnie he would look for her sister’s killer.

Now he needed to deliver.

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18 Minneapolis, Thursday, 8:45 p.m.

Zack followed Max through the lobby of her hotel to the elevator. He scanned the area for anyone suspicious, anyone who might want to target Max. The lobby looked quiet for this time of evening. Only four people, none of whom looked like they might be a threat.

As they rode up in the elevator, Max remained silent. She got out of the elevator at her floor and walked down the hallway.

About halfway down the hall, she reached over and took his hand. “You trust me, don’t you, Zack?”

“Sure.”

She stopped in front of a door and slipped a key in the lock.

“Okay, here we are at my room.”

She pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Take my hand.”

Zack couldn’t see a thing in the pitch-black room. A little puzzled, he slipped his hand into hers.

“This way. Don’t worry, you won’t trip on anything. I won’t let you.”

Zack took small steps, reaching forward with his other hand.

In a moment, she stopped and turned toward him. “Take your coat off and hand it to me.”

Zack did as she asked, wondering what was next.

“All right, there is a chair off to your right. Sit down on the chair. Be careful you don’t fall on your butt. We don’t want you hurt during my spell.”

Zack could hear her moving around. “What are you doing?”

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“Relax, Zack. You’ll find out in due time. Just kick back and relax, and as they say, leave the driving to us. I know it’s tough for you army guys who are used to being in charge.”

He waited for what seemed a long time but actually only a couple of minutes. Next, he felt her untying his shoes. “Okay, Zack, lift your left foot.”

He did as she asked.

“Now, the right.”

Again he did as she asked. She began to massage his bare feet, singing a quiet song, then mumbling some words he couldn’t understand. Was this one of her Gypsy spells?

She began to move up his legs. She continued singing, then mumbled more words.

“Hey, feels good.”

“Shh …. Just shut your eyes and enjoy.”

He did and started to really get excited as she moved up his legs. She reached his knees and began to massage his knees. Holy crap, she was moving higher.

All of a sudden, she stopped. He could sense her standing up.

“Hey, don’t stop. Feels good.”

“Colonel, this is my spell for you. You don’t have a vote. This spell goes back for many generations. Now shush.”

With that, he could sense her moving around behind him.

She began to massage his neck, then her fingers moved around to the front. She massaged his shoulders, then down the front of his shirt and she began to unbutton his shirt. He began to wiggle as he got more excited. As he reached back, he felt her chest. Holy shit, bare breasts.

“Eyes straight ahead. Just relax. No reaching back.”

By this time her fingers were down to his stomach, then to his belt which she opened. “Oh, my, colonel, something appears to be going on down there.”

She wasn’t kidding something was going on down there. She helped by opening his trousers. As she reached down he could feel her bare breasts on his neck. Oh, man, he was having trouble just sitting there.

She continued to hum and mumble words he couldn’t understand. Pulling her arms back, she reached down and 94

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unbuttoned his shirt. When she had undone the buttons, she pulled his shirt off.

Zack started to stand, only to hear her say, “No, don’t move. I don’t want you to move. You will ruin it.”

He allowed her to remove his shirt and she rubbed his chest, then slowly down the front of his chest into his stomach and further down. He gasped and started to reach back, then realized he shouldn’t and stopped. Difficult to just sit there. He wanted to reach back and take her in his arms.

She stopped and walked around him, ending up on the floor in front of him. She grabbed hold of his pants and pulled them off, then his underwear. The cool air felt good on his bare skin.

He reached out to pick her up. She stopped him with her hand. “No.” With that, she stood and walked away.

He reached out. “Wait.”

“Shush.”

Soon he heard music playing. He could sense her returning.

“Okay. Stand up. Gypsy dances are dances of graceful and joyful movements, expressing freedom, passion, and playfulness.

After we left India around 1000 years ago, we migrated around the globe, and settled in various countries.” She took his hand.

“Dance with me.”

He would have been embarrassed in the light, but the room stayed still totally dark. He could sense her moving toward him until she stood directly in front of him.

He reached out until she folded into his arms. He didn’t recognize the music but it sounded eastern. Slow.

It was all he could do to just hold her gently and begin to move. She moved with him, a slow sultry movement rubbing against him.

Zack loved her softness and the gentle touch of her naked body.

She reached up and kissed his neck. “I hope you are enjoying this.”

He did and they moved together until they fell asleep in each other’s arms much later.

95

19 On the road to Brainerd, Friday, 8:00 a.m.

Fairchild said she had time to help Roger in Brainerd, so here they were the next morning leaving Minneapolis on Interstate 494 headed straight north to Interstate 94.

Roger loved the wildness of Minnesota as opposed to the clutter and confusion of his native New York. Manhattan had much to offer, but now he and Ethel were together in Minneapolis, he loved it. She was a goldmine of understanding and he loved her even more than ever for it.

He turned to Fairchild. “Thanks for driving. Gives me time to think. Once we get off Highway 94 in Saint Cloud and catch Interstate10, it should only be another hour until we pull into Brainerd.”

“What do you hope to accomplish?” Fairchild asked.

Roger thought for a moment. What did he want? “To be honest, I’m not sure. Once Early and his partner opened their senior center in Minneapolis, they chose Brainerd for their second investment. So many more appropriate cities in Minnesota. I thought it might be interesting to visit their nursing home, see what it looks like, do some interviews.”

“Great idea. Do we know if Early spent much time in Brainerd?”

“He did. Apparently, he loves to fish and eventually his family bought a cabin right outside of Brainerd. I can understand why — there are almost 500 lakes within 25 miles of the town.”

“Never been much of a fisherman, but I do enjoy the water.

How are we going to proceed once we get there?”

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“As a cover, I thought my brilliant young daughter could be looking for a home for her old man who is starting to have memory issues. You want to get me out of Minneapolis and into a smaller town. A town like Brainerd, with all the surrounding lakes, would be perfect.”

“Makes sense,” Fairchild said. “We shouldn’t need a lot of identification.”

“Maybe you could call and set something up. Tell them we happened to be in the area and thought it would be interesting to explore nursing homes a bit.”

“Got a number?”

Roger handed her a sheet of paper. “Here ya go. Good luck.”

“Okay, Pop, I’m on it.”

Roger smiled. He enjoyed Fairchild. ***** The sun streaming in through the window woke Zack. He looked up, but wasn’t sure for a moment where he was. Hotel room. Didn’t look familiar.

Then it came flooding back. Max. The spell, their lovemaking.

He smiled when he thought of her and rolled over. There she lay, under the covers, facing in the other direction.

He reached over and started rubbing her back. She stirred and began to move. He kissed her neck. “Good morning. Last night is a night I’ll always remember.”

She turned toward him and stretched. “My mother told me I should only share my Gypsy heritage with someone special. Last night was reserved for you and you alone. I’m glad you enjoyed it. I did, too.”

“Oh, I did. You are quite a woman.”

“Not so bad yourself, Colonel.”

“Was it really a spell?”

She giggled. “I incorporated the Gypsy dance into the spell I worked up for you. Special for you.”

He found himself warming up again. He reached over and pulled her toward him. She wiggled her way on top of him.

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That’s all it took for him to be more than ready again.

She kissed his neck and settled herself right on top of him.

Zack closed his eyes and let the magic take over again. ***** It was a little after ten o’clock when Roger Kelly and Fairchild drove into the city of Brainerd. A green sign listed Brainerd to be a town of 12,353. “I understand this is one of the largest towns in central Minnesota.”

“Look,” Fairchild said as she pointed, “there stands Paul Bunyan and on his left is his ox, Babe. I’ve heard about Paul Bunyan ever since being a kid.”

“A big deal here in Brainerd,” Roger said. “They have festivals each year to celebrate the folklore of Paul Bunyan and all the lumberjacks.”

Fairchild glanced over at him. “Sadly, we’re not here to look at Paul Bunyan, but to get to work. What’s the address of the senior center?”

Roger read it off and Fairchild put it into the GPS. “Only a few blocks away.”

Fairchild laughed. “I don’t imagine anything is very far away.”

“Hey, look, the Knotty Pine Bakery. Let’s stop. I need something to eat before I drop in at the center and disappear into myself.”

“Okay, Pops,” Fairchild replied. “That’s a deal. I’m hungry, too.”

The two walked inside. The restaurant looked about half full.

Most of the patrons had flannel shirts, jeans, and boots.

When the waitress came over and poured coffee, they both ordered omelets and home fries.”

“I’ll place your order in right away.”

Roger took a sip, then put down his coffee cup. “Humm, not bad coffee. You’d better drive. I’m not sure your aging father should be trusted behind the wheel.”

The waitress brought their breakfast and they dug in. “Okay, Dad, I’ll grab the wheel. You’d better just hang on.”

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Roger started to laugh. “I’m hoping we can work our way into a tour of the place. Why don’t you push seeing the memory unit when I’m looking the other way? I have a feeling all is not as it should be, and the only way to find out is to poke around.”

Fairchild picked up her coffee cup. “I like it.”

Roger snapped his fingers. “Oh, by the way, I reserved two rooms at the local Holiday Inn and Suites, in case we find something and decide to stay. I can always cancel them if need be.”

Fairchild finished her last bite of egg. “Sounds good. Ready to move out. I’m interested in seeing this place.” ***** The GPS led them to a one-story, white building on the corner with casement windows on one side. It took up about half of the block with a parking lot next to the building.

Roger waited for Fairchild to come around and help him out of the car. “Thank you. It’s time for me to get into character.”

They started down the block, Fairchild holding onto his arm.

She helped him over a bump in the sidewalk. “Guess we should have brought a walker along. Probably would have made us look more authentic. Well, nothing’s perfect. Next time.”

She held the door for him and he wandered into the lobby, looking around as if in a daze.

Fairchild walked over to the desk and called, “Dad, come over here, please.”

He turned and looked at her, taking a minute to focus. “What are you doing over there?”

Fairchild smiled at the receptionist. “Remember, you wanted to get out of the big city. I thought this might be a good spot for you. I understand there are lots of lakes in the area which should mean wonderful fishing. You like to fish.”

He ambled toward her, weaving a little. “I like to fish?”

She winked at the receptionist. “You bet, and you’re good at it. We used to go fishing all the time when I was younger. Now I really miss it. I’d like to do some fishing with you again.”

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“Oh, okay. That would be nice.”

Fairchild stood at the desk. “I’m Marilyn Kiner and this is my father, Roger. I had called earlier about looking around your facility. My dad lives in Minneapolis and we are checking out places for him. Someplace quieter than the big city.”

Roger leaned forward. “The city doesn’t scare me. Don’t say that. I don’t want this lady to think I’m a scaredy-cat. That’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.” She glanced at the receptionist. “I thought you’d be happier in a smaller town where you could go fishing.”

The receptionist glanced at Fairchild and nodded. “I think your dad would be very happy here. We have trips to the lakes each month and we all love to fish,” Roger picked up a pamphlet from the counter. “Do I like to fish?”

Fairchild put her hand on her dad’s arm. “Absolutely, but you haven’t had a chance to do it very often. I think you will be able to fish a lot here.”

The receptionist made a call. In a moment, a dark-haired woman in a white dress came down the hallway. “This is Mrs. Jacobs, our chief nurse. She’ll take you on a tour of our facility.”

Fairchild introduced herself and her dad.

Jacobs brought the glasses hanging around her neck up to her face and extended her hand. “We’re very proud of our facility.

We have thirty beds in our assisted care section and ten beds in our memory unit. Let’s start in the assisted living area.”

Fairchild shook her hand. “That would be nice.”

They followed the chief nurse down a hallway. “You’ll see there are two beds to each room so each of our residents have someone to talk to and be with. We find many of our residents are happier with a partner.”

As she peeked into one of the rooms, Fairchild said, “Makes sense. What you think, Dad? Do you like it?”

“Who are these people?” Roger asked. “I don’t know anyone.”

Jacobs turned to him. “But you will and I think you’ll enjoy yourself. We have a game room which you can enjoy with other residents. There are many games to play.”

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“I don’t like it here,” Roger said. “I want to go home.”

Mrs. Jacobs glanced at Fairchild. “Let’s see about the game room.”

By the time they had reached the game room, Roger had pulled away from Fairchild. “I want to go home. I don’t want to stay here any longer. I don’t like it.”

Fairchild whispered to Jacobs, “Can I see the memory unit.

He may need it. I would like to see what it looks like.”

Jacobs whispered back, “I can take you there, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to go inside.”

“Can I look inside to get a feel for the place?”

Jacobs thought for a moment, then started down the hall in the opposite direction. “Maybe, but only for a minute. We don’t like to upset the residents. Many are very fragile.”

Fairchild took Roger’s arm and followed Jacobs. “I understand. My dad is fragile, too. I don’t want him more upset than necessary.”

Roger stopped and stared at Fairchild. “What do you mean, I’m fragile?”

Fairchild shrugged and glanced at Jacobs. “Nothing, Dad. I love you and don’t want you to get upset, you seemed upset back there.”

“I don’t want to get trapped in a room with those people.”

Fairchild reached over and hugged him. “I understand, Dad. We won’t be here much longer.”

“I want to go home.”

“Okay, just a moment longer.”

They walked down the hallway to a sign which read, Memory Unit, Do Not Enter. Jacobs walked past the sign and opened a door with a red sign, “Caution.”

She pushed the door open a small crack and peeked in.

She motioned for Fairchild to step forward. “You’ll notice each patient has their own bed, and two patients share a bathroom.

We have a fully accredited staff and are very careful not to allow the patients to be bothered.”

“Are many of them sedated?” Fairchild asked.

“Unfortunately, we find the need to sedate many of our memory unit patients.”

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At that moment, Roger pushed past the two women and burst into the room. He walked down the middle path, glancing around.

Jacobs called to him in a stern voice. “Wait a minute. You can’t be in there.”

He continued to walk down the center aisle, looking on both sides. He stopped at one room and walked inside to a woman lying in the bed, her head on a pillow. Unlike many of the others, she seemed to be partially awake. She tried to whisper to him, so he bent down.

By this time, Jacobs had summoned two of the orderlies who pulled Roger away from the bed and back to the hallway door.

Roger resisted, but finally quit and allowed himself to be led back out into the hallway.

Fairchild whispered to Jacobs, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he would do that. He’s never been like that before.”

Jacobs glared at her. “I don’t think your father would be the sort of patient we would like in our facility. I think it’s best if you leave.”

Fairchild reached back to take Roger’s arm. “Dad, we need to leave.”

When they reached the entryway, Fairchild tried again. “Mrs. Jacobs, I’m sorry. I hope he didn’t upset too many patients.”

By this time, Jacobs had cooled down. “I understand you can’t always control your father, but his actions have been very upsetting to our patients.”

As Fairchild reached the door, she turned to Mrs. Jacobs, “I understand the Early family has a cabin in the area and does a lot of fishing. I think that’s what drew Jake to Brainerd. Do you, by any chance, have an idea where their home may be?”

The change in discussion caught Jacobs by surprise, and she stammered, “Why yes, I believe Mr. Early has a lovely home on Long Lake.”

“Thank you. I knew him briefly when we were in school together and wondered what brought him to Brainerd.”

“You’re welcome.” Jacobs turned and hurried down the corridor without another word, shaking her head.

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They stepped outside and Fairchild helped Roger to the car.

She drove two blocks away, pulled over and stopped. “I believe you should get an Oscar for your performance.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you thought to ask about Early.”

“I hoped we could get a lead.”

“Let’s see if we can locate the home and determine what it’s like. I still think this area may somehow tie to the disappearance of Bonnie’s twin sister.”

Fairchild thought for a moment, then turned toward Roger.

“When you reached over the woman, did she say anything to you?

Roger glanced at her, biting his lip. “Help me.”

103

20 The White House, Friday, 11:00 a.m.

Garcia, TJ Wilson, Agent Harper, and Scott sat in Admiral Steele’s outer office, waiting their turn. His secretary had arranged for a meeting in his office at eleven. He needed to talk to them and didn’t want to do it on the phone.

The Admiral opened the door to his inner office and called to them. “Please come in. I don’t have much time.”

The four jumped up and hurried over to his door. When they got inside, Garcia was surprised to see the White House Chief of Staff sitting in one of the Admiral’s conference table chairs. “Mr. Pearson,” she stammered, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“To be honest, Garcia, I didn’t expect to be here.”

Steele motioned for each of them to be seated at the table.

“Chief, I think you know two of my special staff, Colonel Garcia and Major T.J. Wilson. The other attendees are Agent Harper from the FBI and Inspector Scott from the Fairfax Police Department.

Pearson nodded.

When they were seated, Steele opened by saying, “This is classified information. So sensitive, I didn’t want to talk to you on the phone. Agent Harper, I want you to keep your boss up to speed. Director Burnside had a commitment he couldn’t break and the chief and I didn’t want to wait.”

Garcia swallowed hard. Holy crap. What’s going on?

Admiral Steele began. “Scott, you have been helping me follow the theft of a classified study from Professor Underwood’s home on the grounds of George Mason University, combined with the murder of a security officer. Have you found any additional information?”

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Scott leaned forward and put her elbows on the table. “Agent Harper and I interviewed the wife of the professor. Her father was a colonel in the KGB. She bristled when Agent Harper brought it up. Agent Harper?”

“I believe that’s a good summary. I doubt the wife participated in the theft. I’m still not sure about the husband. However, after my comment, she forced us to leave. Let me turn it back to Scott.

The story gets better.”

“On the way out, I spotted two suits sitting in a car across the street and about four houses down the block from the Underwood house. I walked over to them and flashed my badge, asking the driver what he was doing there.” She went on to discuss the interaction with the CIA agent. “The clown said something like, ‘Little lady, why don’t you go back to your car and leave us alone?’“ Garcia started to laugh. “Little lady? Oh, my, did he ever pick the wrong person to say that to.”

“No kidding. The other agent showed me his badge. Turned out they were CIA.” Admiral Steele raised his eyebrows. “CIA? Did you say CIA?” Scott nodded. “A far more reasonable guy than the first one.

At least for what I think of as a CIA agent.”

That brought chuckles from the rest of the room.

“We met for coffee and shared what we each had found during our investigation. Apparently they have been tasked to keep an eye on the place and report comings and goings.”

Admiral Steele glanced at the Chief. “Okay, Scott, will you and Agent Harper keep us up to speed on what you find out?”

Scott nodded. “Yes, sir. Ah, one more thing.”

Steele nodded.

“I can’t believe two reasonably high-priced agents are paid to sit and watch the house. There has to be more. I began to wonder if somehow the CIA is involved in the theft. You probably think my idea is pretty far out, but the thought has stayed with me since the thief had a key and inside information.”

“I’m afraid you might be right.” Steele turned to Garcia. “Have you been following what’s going on with Zack in Minneapolis?”

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“Yes, sir. I expect an update from him this afternoon. I will share any relevant information I find out.”

Steele gritted his teeth. “The reason I called you together is my concerns with some of the members of the National Security Council, particularly the CIA and the Defense Department representatives.”

He paused to let that sink in. “We have reason to believe someone will make another run at our election process and we’re not sure who.”

Garcia sat back and thought, one hell of a statement. She raised her hand and Steele nodded to her. “Don’t we suspect the Russians?”

“True,” Steele replied. “But, I’m talking about inside our government.”

Garcia felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. She looked at the others. They must have felt the same way. “Sir, are you saying key members of our government may be trying to undermine our election?”

The chief of staff nodded. “That is why I asked you to come in. To be honest, we aren’t sure who we can trust.”

TJ Wilson let out a breath. “Incredible.”

“Now, you know the problem and why we must demand absolute secrecy.” Steele pointed at TJ. “I want you to go to Minneapolis and brief Zack. If Fairchild isn’t needed there, I want her back here.”

TJ nodded. “Yes, sir.”

The chief leaned forward. “We believe there may be sections within our government who are working with the Farmington campaign to defeat the president and help get Farmington elected.”

Garcia was stunned. “Sir?” Steele nodded. “A very real possibility. Garcia, you seem to have the confidence of Benson and some of the other members of the campaign. I’d like you to track what’s going on in the campaign and keep working with them.”

Garcia’s brain kept spinning. “Yes, sir.”

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“We need to find out who may be supporting Farmington, particularly from inside the government. Anything you can uncover will be helpful.”

Scott raised her hand.

Steele nodded toward her.

“Sir, we need to keep an eye on those two CIA agents.”

“Absolutely,” Steele said. “We need outside the box thinking in the next day or two until we sort all of this out.”

The chief cleared his throat. “We’ll be calling this Project 2020. Try not to put out more information than absolutely necessary by electronic means. It can be hacked. Any questions?”

He glanced around the table. “I must emphasize you may be helping to hold together our electoral process. Feed all of your information through Admiral Steele. He will keep me up to date.

Thank you.” ***** After Zack left Max in her hotel room, he drove home. His night with Max had completely overwhelmed him. She was beautiful, smart, fun, and the perfect mate. He might be falling in love with her. But all that would have to wait until this project ended. Need to keep a clear head.

As he sat trying to sort things out, he figured he’d better call Laura. He had planned to talk with her last night, but Max had consumed him.

He checked his watch. Almost noon her time. She’d be out of class and in study hall or getting ready for practice. He dialed and she answered on the third ring. “ Hi, Dad.” “Hey, sweetie, are you doing okay?”

“Okay. How about you? I thought you’d call last night.”

“Well...”

“I know. I know. Some beauty got in the way. Guess I have to get used to all the hot chicks chasing after you.”

“Well, to be honest, I had dinner last night with my friend, Max. You may remember her from Sea Isle City.”

“I really enjoyed her. And if I remember a pretty woman and a gypsy, too. How did she get to Minneapolis?”

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“She’s helping me on the case I’m working. How about you?”

“Busy. As a matter of fact, you caught me headed to practice.”

“Okay. How about if I call tonight?”

“Talk then.”

Zack heard a dial tone and knew Laura had to run. He called Garcia. After three rings, he heard, “Garcia.”

“Hey, it’s Zack. Thought I’d better touch base. I’ve got some information for you to pass to the boss. Ready to copy?”

“Ah, I met with the admiral this morning. He’s dispatched TJ to Minneapolis and his flight will be landing at six o’clock. The admiral thought we needed to discuss these issues face to face rather than on the phone. Things are getting sensitive here.”

Uh, oh, Zack thought. That doesn’t sound good. “Okay, I’ll hold off until TJ gets here. What are you up to?”

“Still playing in the politics game. It’s getting to be a full-time job with the Farmington campaign.”

Didn’t sound like Garcia. Zack figured she was being careful what she said in the open. “Okay, hang in there.”

“Will do. I hope you can sort things out in Minneapolis.”

He hung up and walked into the kitchen. All the thinking he had to do required a cup of coffee to figure out. ***** Max arrived late at work, but not too late. The clock showed ten o’clock. Fortunately, Early and Tyson weren’t there yet. She set to work organizing some files, humming as she worked. Smiling every once in a while when she thought of Zack.

Early arrived about ten-thirty, exchanged a greeting, then disappeared right into his office and shut the door.

He came out of his office and headed toward the hallway. He stopped by her desk and said, “Going to check out a few things.”

“Okay,” she replied, not caring much where he went.

She managed to keep herself busy organizing files, typing up correspondence for Early, and thinking about Zack.

When Early returned to the office, a tall, slender man, dressed in a black T-shirt and black slacks, followed him. The man 108

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sported tattoos on his muscular arms and an amazing number of scars on his face. Short, gray hair and wearing sunglasses, he glared at her on the way by, making her feel uncomfortable, The two men walked into Early’s office, and tattoos slammed the door shut behind him. Max wondered if slamming the door was done for effect, and why.

She began to worry if perhaps she had been found out. A routine check would be fine. If somehow tattoos had access to more detailed files, she could have a problem. If needed, she could make a run for it. Her car was in the parking lot.

She had agreed to stick it out and she would. So far, she had not uncovered any information important to Zack. Seemed with the man here, this could be a chance to gain information.

The door to Jake’s office opened and he leaned out. “Hey, Max, could you step in here for a minute?”

“Ah, sure.” She settled herself and picked up her steno pad, then headed for the office. Jake stepped back to let her pass, then shut his office door.

Uh, oh, she didn’t like the closed door. She felt silly asking to keep it open.

She looked over at the man who sat on the couch. He had a sinister look about him. Max wasn’t sure why she thought that.

Over her career in law enforcement, she’d been around enough crooks and con artists to trust her feelings. This guy had to be bad news. Does he look a little familiar? Maybe somewhere in the past?

She took a deep breath to calm herself and waited for Early to tell her why he’d called her in.

“Max, sit down next to the desk. I want to ask you a couple of questions. A few things came up in your background check to give us pause. Not a big deal, but worth asking you about.”

Keep your tone light and easy. You’ve got nothing to hide.

“Sure. How I help you?”

Jake looked down at some papers. “You have on your form you recently left an abusive marriage. You drove here to stay with a friend in Southern Minnesota. But you didn’t give us a phone number for your friend so we could check out your story.”

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She tried to look puzzled. “Why would you need to check out my story? To be honest, what business is it of yours? I don’t mean to sound harsh, but it seems my personal life is none of your business. As long as I do my job and take care of all you ask of me, that should be all that matters.”

“For example, what if your husband comes out here looking for you, which certainly could happen? Suppose he busts in here with a gun and starts shooting.”

“I guess you do have a point. But my husband has no idea where I am and doesn’t even know my friend. He had no reason to believe I’m in Minnesota and to be honest after he once gets over the initial shock, I’m not sure he’ll care.”

Early stared at her. “Look, I would like the name of your contact so we can check everything is on the up and up.”

She thought for a moment. Tried to remember Fairchild’s cell number but couldn’t. The best she could come up with was Zack’s cell. He had said to call if she ran into any problems. How would he answer the phone? If he said his name, it would be all over.

Probably best to give them a name, but not the number. She could fake forgetting it and have to go out and check. Then she would probably bug out. She’d gotten some of what Zack needed and any more might not be worth the risk.

“My friend’s name is Paula Johnson and she lives on a farm outside of Austin. I’ll have to get the phone number for you.”

“You see,” Early continued, “my friend believes he’s seen you someplace before, but unfortunately, he can’t remember where.

We’re concerned you may be a police officer who has been sent here to spy on us? Now I want the truth. Who are you and what are you doing here?”

No way was she going to level with them. She stood. “Look, I don’t have to take this. I had an abusive husband and came to Minnesota to escape him. Why is it you take his word rather than mine? I’m on the up and up. I can do one hell of a lot better job than any other secretary you could find. But I figured I needed to start somewhere. You gave me a chance.”

Early smiled. “Do you know my old classmate Zack Kelly? Is he why you came to Minnesota? To be with him?”

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Max looked at Early. Did he see them together last night?

She could admit to being with Zack, but that would make her suspect. “Now, wait a minute …”

The stranger stood and glared at her. “No, you wait a minute, bitch. You came here to see what you could do to mess with us, and I don’t like it one bit.”

She turned toward Early. “What is this? An inquisition? Do I get a defense counsel? I came here in good faith looking for a job. I’ve done my job damn well. All of a sudden, this guy rolls in, thinks he’s seen me someplace before, and everybody jumps on the bandwagon that I’m guilty. Well, screw you, Jake, and screw this whole place. I don’t need this.”

Jake raised his hand. “Now Max, wait…”

“If you are going to treat me like dirt based on false identification, then the hell with you and your senior center.

You’re not the only game in town. I can get a better job with one hell of a lot better pay so you two can just shove it.”

Early called to the man. “Sean, sit the fuck down.”

She turned and looked Sean in the eye. “Oh, so you’re Sean.

You’re the guy who called on the phone and treated me like crap.

Wouldn’t tell me who you were or what you wanted so I could advise Jake. Made me look like a clown.”

She turned toward Early. “My message. Oh, Jake, you had a call from Sean. I don’t know who he is or what he wants or when he will call again. Made me look like a fool. Is that what you like to do to women? Make them look dumb? Make them lose their job cause you think you’ve seen them someplace? I thought this place had to be better than that.”

She paused for a moment. Breathing hard, she pointed at the door. “Jake, you’d better open that door and let me out of here. If this is how I’ll be treated in the future, I don’t give a shit for you, your place, or your job.”

Early looked at her. “Sean, stop it. Max, I’m sorry. We made a mistake. I don’t want you to leave. Please stay.”

She stared at Early for a moment, then glanced back at Sean.

She had won this round, but Sean was not a guy to forgive and forget. He would be checking on her and she suspected with his 111

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contacts, he’d find something sooner or later. But it looked like she would be able to get out of here in one piece if she played it right.

She brushed her eye like she had a tear. “All right. Let me think about it. I like you, Jake. I like your partner and the people I’ve met. You gave me a good job when I needed one. I need to get out of here and think about it.”

“All right, Max. I hope you’ll agree to stay.”

She walked out, head high. Checked her watch. Late for Zack’s call, but she had to get out to her car before she could touch base with him.

112

21 Brainerd, MN, Friday, 3; 00 p.m.

It had taken Fairchild and Roger Kelly the better part of two hours to locate the Early house. They had started with the phone book, then Fairchild used Google Maps to pull up a map of the area with a plot plan of the buildings.

After driving out of Brainerd toward the lake, they found the lane on the map and turned in. Roger drove down the lane, probably a quarter-mile, until they reached the house itself.

Basically, a log cabin which looked as if the owners had added a screened porch facing the lake.

It was larger than he first thought and looked to have been used regularly during the past summer. Now it appeared closed up for fall.

Roger looked around, then said, “If anyone comes down the lane, we can say we’re looking for lakefront property. I’ll tell them I’m retiring and was told the owners might consider selling. Not much of a cover story, but it’s the best I can come up with on short notice.”

Fairchild looked over at him and laughed. “Got me convinced.”

Roger stepped out of the car. “Let’s walk around and see what Mr. Early’s place has to offer.” He glanced at the closest building.

“Must be a garage. Looks big enough for two cars.”

He peered through the window. “I see a pickup truck, maybe about ten years old. The second stall has a boat. Outboard, probably ten to twelve feet long. Big outboard engine. Got rods, reels, nets and boots stored up on the walls and in the corners.

Definitely a fisherman’s hideaway.”

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He turned from the garage and walked toward the cabin, Fairchild following. “We don’t want to mess up our chances of getting a search warrant by going in without permission.”

Fairchild nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’d just like to get a feel for the place.”

When they reached the front of the house, Roger pointed at a screened-in porch about ten feet by fifteen feet. “A second screened-in porch. Important because of the damn flies. Some people claim these Black Flies are the national bird of Minnesota.”

Fairchild laughed again. “I’ve heard about bugs and flies in Northern Minnesota.”

He pulled on the screen door, “Hey, it’s open. Keep your fingers crossed.” Tried the front door. “Damn, locked. Why don’t folks leave their house unlocked so we can take a look inside? I’ll have to say they have nice furniture on the porch. Settee, chairs, lamp tables.”

Fairchild sat on a chair. “Nice cushions. I’m surprised they left the furniture on an unlocked porch. Must trust their fellow man.”

He released the screen door and it fell shut. “Come on, let’s walk around to the side. Bonnie’s sister, Debbie, disappeared a little over twenty years ago. I always suspect the boyfriend. It doesn’t sound like she’s the sort of person to leave town without notice.”

Roger glanced around. The dock stood in the shape of an “L” which reached about twenty feet out into the lake. “Looks to be about fifty feet down to the dock.”

“All right,” Fairchild said, “let’s assume he killed Debbie and brought her here. The most likely thing he’d do, I think, is to take her out to the deepest part of the lake and dump her. So without a diver, no way we’re ever going to find the body.”

“Yep,” Roger replied. “But let’s say in his own weird way he loved her and couldn’t stand to have her leave him. He supposedly was a big jock, probably getting used to having his way with any woman he wanted.”

Fairchild wrinkled up her nose. “Uh, oh, those are the worst kind.”

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Roger started to pace around the yard. “Let’s say, he kills her in a fit of rage. Realizes what he’s done. She’s the light of his life.

He has to get her out of town, so he brings her up here. What would he do? What would you do?”

“Okay, fair enough.” Fairchild started to wander back toward the cabin. “Let’s walk around slowly, try to put ourselves in his shoes. He hits the panic button. Can’t believe what he’s done.

Doesn’t want to go to jail. Now what?”

She stopped. “Let’s look at the plot map again.”

Roger spread it out on a picnic table. “The land goes a quarter mile back to the edge of the main road and looks to be about sixty feet wide. Where would he bury her?”

Both of them looked back toward the woods. “Not here, too close to the house. Risky.” Fairchild thought for a moment. “The body has to be buried deep or an animal might dig her up. I’m betting somewhere back in the woods.”

“Sounds about right,” Roger said. “Let’s take a stroll back along the lane from the main road. I mean, who knows what we might find?”

They walked, looking for any natural open places. A couple of places looked like possibilities so they wandered into the woods a few feet.

After about thirty minutes, Fairchild said, “I’d like to come back with hiking boots and outdoor clothes. This dress-up crap is for the birds out here.”

“I agree,” Roger said. “We’ve got a good start. Gave the place a good look over. I do think it’s possible the body is here if Early is our killer. Before we go any farther, we need more evidence.

Something to tie him to a possible murder. Then we can get a warrant and do a thorough search.”

“How about we head into town,” Fairchild said. “I think I spotted a pub which may serve as a watering hole when the locals get off work. We gotta be careful so we don’t run into that chief nurse. She wouldn’t be happy to see us again.”

Roger laughed. “I second that. But I like your idea of heading back into town and seeing what we can dig up in talking with folks. I would like to drive back to Minneapolis tonight and let 115

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Zack know what we’ve found. Also, I’d like to find out what Max has uncovered at work.”

They turned and wandered back the lane toward the cabin, looking left and right as they walked.

It took them about twenty minutes before they reached the car.

They climbed in and drove slowly out the lane, looking right and left in case they might have missed something. ***** Zack got in his rental and pulled out from the parking garage next to his apartment, then headed toward the airport. TJ was due in at six o’clock and traffic could be tough in the suburbs this time of evening.

Max should have called by now. Their agreement was she would call when she left the senior center at four o’clock and she was forty-five minutes late. It’s possible she had to work overtime, but the thought didn’t make him feel any better.

His mother had invited Zack and TJ for dinner. Zack figured this would be a great time for his mother to get to know Max. He turned off Interstate 35W and drove east toward the airport on Interstate 494. Traffic would be more of a pain in a few months closer to the holidays when everyone fought their way to buy the bargains at the Mall of the Americas. Zack preferred to do his shopping online. He hated the crowds and getting shoved around.

At the airport, Zack took the left turn into the parking garage and hurried upstairs to the arrival area. He reached TJ’s gate a little before six o’clock.

He waited at the gate for about twenty minutes when the passengers began to walk through the gate. About five minutes later, here came TJ. He waved at Zack.

TJ had grown up in Baltimore, the vice president of one of the toughest gangs in Baltimore. Got caught stealing a car. The judge had given him the choice of going to jail or volunteering to enlist in the army. Not being stupid, TJ chose the army.

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Zack had to chuckle at the thought. It turned out TJ had a natural skill for flying choppers, and he provided the support for Zack’s ranger battalion in Iraq. After their tour together in Iraq, Zack had recommended him to Admiral Steele. TJ had fit in well with the rest of the team.

Zack waived and TJ smiled back as he strolled the walkway.

When he came through the gate, he reached over to shake hands with Zack.

Zack gave him a bear hug. “Welcome to Minneapolis.”

“Thanks, first time here. Understand it gets colder than crap during the winter.”

“That’s true.” Zack looked around. “Got more bags?”

“Nah, self-contained so I’m one-hundred percent mobile.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Come on, let’s get my car.”

As they walked, Zack told TJ his mom had invited them to dinner. “Give you a chance to get to know my mom and dad.

Also, we can get an update from Fairchild and my dad on their trip to Brainerd.”

They talked about weather and other incidentals until they reached Zack’s car and climbed inside.

TJ told him about the meeting with Admiral Steele. “The fucking chief of staff sat in on the meeting. Both of them seemed worried about who they could trust. The admiral wanted to let you know his concerns and was hesitant to use phones.”

“Wait a minute,” Zack said. “Are you telling me they’re concerned about other members of the National Security Council?”

“Damn straight. That’s what the man said.”

“Well, shit, the big guys — CIA, State, and Defense departments — guys like that?”

“You got it. Exactly what I’m saying and why my big butt is sitting in your car. Their exact quote was ‘We don’t know who we can trust.’”

Zack couldn’t believe it. “All this could be tied to the election?”

TJ laughed. “Congratulations, my man I believe you’re getting it.”

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“Holy crap, that means they think some of our own staff don’t want the president to be reelected. They can’t want that Farmington guy.”

TJ shrugged. “Well, if you’re a fan of the military going all over the world and shooting people, then Farmington is the guy for you. But as you know, I’m not a politician.”

Zack had to laugh. “The master of the understatement. Let me share my number one concern. All of a sudden, my contact at the senior center is not reporting in like she’s supposed to.” Zack looked at his watch. “She’s at least two hours late. You remember Max from when we were at Sea Isle City and ran into those frustrated female vets.”

“Hell, yeah. I really liked her. Seemed to have her shit together.

What’s going on?”

Zack explained about the undercover sting he had set up.

“TJ, if I screwed up and something has happened to her, I’ll be kicking myself around the block.”

“Stay cool, my friend. It may be nothing.”

“Yeah, but....”

“No yeah but, just be cool.

118

22 Washington DC Convention Center, Friday, 6:30 p.m.

Garcia pulled into one of the many parking lots surrounding the Convention Center and fought her way through the crowds until she reached the main entrance. She let herself be pushed by the crowd and didn’t see a single soul she knew, but wasn’t surprised. As far as she knew, she didn’t have friends who were fans of Farmington.

In the past, she had gone into the biggest auditorium and stayed toward the back so she could sneak out after an hour. Right now, a band played Stars and Stripes Forever and she hummed along. Patriotic music seemed to be the theme at these rallies.

Garcia sensed rather than felt a shadow behind her. She turned to see a man in a black suit who must have been a good foot taller than her five foot five inches and at least twice her trim 110 pounds.

He forced a smile, but Garcia saw no smile in his eyes. “May I help you?”

Obviously, the guy wasn’t crazy about Hispanics. She had to shout over the noise from the band. “No, I’d like to hear Mr. Farmington. Will it be long before he speaks?”

“I’m with security. I haven’t seen you here before.”

Garcia wasn’t going to take any shit off this guy. “Are you saying I don’t belong? Have you got something against what I look like? What I sound like? Who I am?”

The man backed down a little. “No, I’m saying I haven’t seen you here before. I worry about people I haven’t seen here before.”

“There must be a thousand people here. Are you trying to tell me you’ve seen all of the people here before.”

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“You know, I don’t like your attitude. We want everyone here to enjoy themselves and we don’t want any trouble makers. You’re beginning to sound like you might be one.”

“Well, you’re starting to piss me off. Why do you think I might be looking for trouble? Because I maybe don’t look like everyone else?”

The man put his hand on her arm. “I think it’s time for you to leave. We don’t want any trouble and you look like you might cause problems.”

“Look, friend, I suggest you take your hand off my arm before you lose it. I’m trying to be nice, but I don’t like strangers touching me.”

The big man began to push her along. “I think you should leave the room. As a matter of fact, I’m going to insist on it. So let’s move along before I have to enforce moving you.”

Garcia took all she could from this jerk. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, but this guy had pushed her too far. She reached over and grabbed two of the fingers on the hand on her arm and pulled them apart. He yelped.

Then she put her left leg behind his right and using his own excessive weight, she pushed and kept the pressure on his fingers until she felt a small snap. The man cried out in pain as he fell to the floor, causing a stir in the crowd. A few yelled, Fight!

Garcia moved to the opposite side of where he lay and walked right into another man’s full round belly.

She tried to brush past him, but he pinned her up against the wall with his bulk. “Wait, Garcia, it’s me, Sonny. I would like to talk with you. I’m sorry you had a problem. Our security people are sometimes too aggressive. I’d like to know what happened.

Please, stop.”

“Look, Mr. Benson, I’ve enjoyed my previous visits and came in here again to see what this was all about. I’m standing here minding my own business when this clown came up behind me and started telling me he hadn’t seen me here before. He didn’t want any trouble and thought it would be best if I left.”

“I see. And you didn’t like that?”

Garcia looked up at Benson. “Hell no, I didn’t like it. Would you?”

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“No, I guess I wouldn’t.”

“I’ve been manhandled by a lot of creeps in my day. Normally I can talk them down. This guy wouldn’t stop, and told me I should leave. He then made the mistake of putting his hand on my arm.”

Benson looked at the security man getting up off the floor, holding onto his right hand. “Yes, it would seem he did make a mistake.”

“I’m not sure you get many Hispanic women at your rallies, so I may look a little different. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t welcome me. You treat me like trash, then you’re going to have a problem.”

“I can certainly see what you’re saying.”

“Now, if you will leave me alone, that big lump of shit will get his wish and I’ll leave under my own power. I thought I might like to participate on your team. But, if this is the way your staff treats minorities, then I don’t want anything to do with your campaign.”

“Can I ask you to stay and have a cup of coffee with me?”

She paused. “Why would you like to have a cup of coffee with me?”

“I guess because I find you interesting.”

“I’ll have to say very few people tell me they find me interesting.” She stopped. “Okay, but just a cup of coffee it is.

Only coffee.”

Benson laughed, a belly laugh. “You are interesting. Coffee is all.”

She followed him across the auditorium, pushing through the crowd and down a hallway marked private.

So, she thought, Admiral Steele wanted her in the mix. She wasn’t sure if this is what he meant or not. But she was going to find out. ***** Zack pulled into the driveway of his parent’s house and shut off the engine. He remembered the fun times and some of the not so fun times growing up here.

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They had moved from New York to Minnesota when Zack was six years old. His dad had been an NYPD officer and died a hero in the line of duty during a drug bust. Two months later, an investigation concluded that his father might have been a dirty cop and had been in league with the mafia.

Zack never believed it, but the embarrassment had been too much for his mother. She gathered up Zack, his younger brother and sister and moved to Minneapolis for a fresh start.

The move gave his mother the shot she needed to get back to her watercolor art, and she turned out to be successful as an artist.

Once Zack had graduated from high school, and after a disappointing first year in college, he enlisted in the army, went to ranger school and never looked back. His brother ended up in Seattle and his sister in LA. “Hey, are you still there?” TJ asked Zack snapped out of it, “I’m sorry. Got caught in a walk down memory lane.” He put his hand on the door handle. “Let’s go inside, have a drink. Then get something to eat.”

“Sounds good, Zack. As usual, I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, sure.” Zack walked up the sidewalk, used his key to open the front door and they stepped inside. “Mom, it’s me and TJ. Where are you?”

“In the kitchen, silly. Where do you think I’d be?”

Zack and TJ headed back through the hallway to the kitchen, where his mother stood hunched over the oven. “Just checking our roast. I got a call from your father. He and Fairchild are on their way back and should be here in about a half-hour.”

“Wonderful.” He walked over and hugged her. “You remember TJ?” “I sure do.”

“Hi, Mrs. Kelly.”

“Ethel. Please.”

Zack’s face lit up. “If Dad’s on his way back, it looks like we have time for a cold beer. Can I help with anything?”

“No, we’re in good shape. Why don’t you show TJ around?”

“Heck, maybe two cold beers,” TJ chimed in.

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“Mom, can I get you something?”

“I think I’d like a glass of red wine.”

“You bet.” Zack got the glasses and the drinks, then he showed TJ around the house, thinking Max should have called.

He was, however, hesitant to call her for fear who she might be with. Another hour he and TJ would have to go into the senior center. He needed to get her out safely even if it blew her cover.

His cell rang. Oh, man, please be Max. “Hello.”

Relief poured through him when he heard her voice. “Hi Zack, it’s me.”

“Max. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine, but I had a crazy afternoon. Need to see you right away.”

“Are you up to driving?”

“What’s wrong with you. I’m not a cripple. Just had one heck of a day with Jake and the crazy guy, Sean O’Leary.”

“My parents have invited all of us for dinner. Let me give you the address. Should take you about a half-hour to get here. I can come and get you if you don’t want to mess with traffic.”

“Remember my roots. I can handle tough stuff. Fire away. I’ll put it in my GPS.” He gave her the address and heard her punch it in her phone.”

“I’m sorry I had to worry you, but Jake kept me in his office and it turned out he was having a meeting with Sean. The guy is a real ass. But, enough of that. I’ll be on my way as soon as I get home and change. Probably closer to an hour.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

He disconnected and put his cell back in his pocket. Glanced at TJ. “Max on the phone. What a relief.”

“Good,” TJ responded. “I could tell you were sweating it.”

In a moment he heard a car pull up in the driveway and two car doors slammed.

“Bet that’s my dad and Fairchild.”

He hurried to the front door and pulled it open.

Roger Kelly and Tara Fairchild walked in through the front door.

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His dad gave him a hug. “Hey, Zack, I’m glad you’re here. Got a lot to go over with you.”

“Been quite a day,” Fairchild chimed in.

His mother stepped out of the kitchen. “All right, you guys, knock it off. We’ve got a dinner to eat and by golly, you’re all going to relax and enjoy it.”

Zack turned back and headed toward the kitchen. “Not until I get a beer for my dad and a glass of red wine for Fairchild.”

Roger pulled his coat off. “Ethel’s absolutely right. Let me wash my hands and we’ll sit down.”

They all sat around the dinner table. “My friend, Max, is helping me with an investigation I’m doing at the senior center in Richfield,” Zack said. “She should be here in another forty-five minutes.”

Ethel had made a tasty dinner of pork roast, mashed potatoes, and salad which they passed around the table.

“I’ll set aside a plate for your friend and keep it in the stove to stay warm,” Ethel said. “Now, if you all eat your salad and everything on your plate, I’ve made an apple pie I think you’re going to enjoy.”

She looked at Roger. “Okay, now you can talk business.”

Roger and Fairchild shared what they had learned in Brainerd at the senior center.

Zack chuckled. “Fairchild, how did my dad do as a memory problem guy?”

“He acted the part.” She turned to Roger. “You had me convinced.”

Roger laughed. “It gets easier every year.” His face straightened.

“I uncovered a serious problem in the memory unit. I walked in and leaned down to see if I could talk to one of the patients. She took my arm and pulled me toward her, then whispered in my ear, ‘Help me.’“ “Did you get a name? Any ID?” Roger shook his head. “I don’t know if she was only a troubled patient acting out, or if she tried to get a real message to me.

We’re heard concerns about the center. This might be the first place to check.”

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TJ took a bite of potato. “We need to take it seriously. There are stories in Washington about people being kidnapped and maybe this is where they end up.”

“I agree with TJ,” Fairchild said. “But the question is what do we do about it?”

Roger put his fork down. “We don’t have enough evidence for a search warrant. We can’t go busting in there on our own. I’m not sure what we can do to help the poor woman.”

Ethel stood. “I need to go out for a little while. Roger, would you take charge of cleaning up the table and getting the pie out.”

She smiled. “For those of you who like a treat, I do have ice cream to go with the pie.”

Zack stood. “I can certainly coordinate this apple pie operation. I’ll add a piece of pie to Max’s dinner. I’m looking forward to finding out what she’s learned.”

Ethel called from the door. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

Roger walked over and gave Ethel a kiss. “Be careful.”

“I always am.”

125

23 Washington, D.C. Friday, 8:00 p.m.

Garcia followed Benson through the crowd, the noise almost overwhelming. She wanted to cover her ears. Most of the soldiers seemed to be of the generic white variety. Surprise. Surprise. She spotted one Hispanic soldier off in a corner next to a couple of blacks. Definitely in the minority.

Benson turned back to yell, “Hang in there. We’re almost at the office.”

She turned right at one of the corners and followed him down a hallway, feeling a little like a rat in a maze. They reached a door on the left with another big guy standing guard.

The man nodded to Benson and held it open for him. She wondered if he would slam the door shut in her face, but he acted professionally and held the door for her.

When they got inside, Garcia marveled at the relative quiet.

A staff of about twenty women sat hunched over computers typing as well as filing and comparing notes.

Benson turned to her. “Come on, let’s go down this hallway to my little corner of the world where we can talk.”

“Okay, okay, I’m following. I’m surprised at the number of staff here when this is only a temporary rally setup.”

“We’re getting big enough, so we need to be able to handle about any crisis and believe me plenty of them keep coming up.

Plus, I want to capture the names of anyone who is interested in participating in our program.”

His office stood maybe twelve-foot square with a desk piled high with papers, two chairs in front of the desk.

Garcia sat in one of the chairs and waited to see what would happen. Benson’s treatment surprised her. She needed to focus 126

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on her cover story. Benson had the connections, so he probably knew all about her or soon would.

She figured she’d open things. “Mr. Benson, what do you want from me? Why am I here?”

Benson started to laugh. A booming laugh Garcia found to be contagious. She had to smile. “I thought we had agreed on coffee. Only coffee.”

His comment caught Garcia by surprise. Guy had a pretty good sense of humor. “I guess you got me there. We did agree on coffee. But you probably have more to do than to sit and have coffee with me, as charming as I am.”

He reached behind him to a small table with a coffee pot.

“Coffee, black?”

Garcia nodded. “That’ll do it.”

He handed her a cup with a logo for Farmington on the front.

“There you go. Delivered as promised.”

“Will this cup self destruct in my face if I’m not a Farmington fan?”

Benson laughed again. “I guess the question is, why aren’t you?”

“For one thing, I don’t know much about him. Why should I care? Things seem to be going along great the way they are. Why change horses?”

“Good point. As a soldier, you have to be concerned about American foreign policy.”

“Yeah, but I guess I don’t see anything wrong with what’s going on.”

“Come on, Garcia, you must see how everyone is pushing us around. The little shrimp in North Korea, the fruit loops in Iran and Iraq, and all of our NATO partners who don’t pay attention to us. We need to double the size of our armed forces. Be more aggressive and start pushing back. That’s all these clowns understand. Power.”

“I can’t argue with what you say. But why not leave well enough alone?”

“You’re saying, let the goofballs in the Middle East kill each other, then go in and pick up the pieces.”

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Garcia looked at him. “That’s not what I said at all.”

“What it sounded like to me, and I have to agree with you. We need to increase our forces, increase our intelligence apparatus, and make sure no one can surprise us again like on 911. The only thing people in the world respect is strength and we’re letting everyone get ahead of us. If all else fails, we may need to use a couple of our nuclear weapons to get their attention.

A woman peeked into the office. “Sorry to bother you, Sonny, but Mr. Mason is on line two.”

Her comment surprised Garcia. Did she mean the Deputy Secretary of Defense? If that’s who it is, she thought about the earlier meeting and the admiral’s concern about members of the security team. She’d better at least tell the admiral about the call.

Benson held up his finger. “Just a minute. I’d better take this.”

He picked up his phone, “Yeah?”

He listened, then said, “Gotta go” and hung up. He turned back to Garcia. “I’m sorry, but I need to talk with General Farmington.”

Garcia stood. “Sure, I’d better leave, too.”

Benson stood. “I would like to continue our conversation.

I won’t try and BS you. I checked and found out you work for Steele. But we are looking for talented minorities to work with us. You fill the bill. I’m hoping you’ll come on board.”

“I appreciate your interest and candor, but I have no interest in leaving Admiral Steele. It’s a good job and I hope to keep it.”

“No problem. I’m thinking you can provide valuable insight for us into the Hispanic community, particularly military members. We want to expand their participation. And as someone who is bright and should be planning ahead, we have things in place so we will win the next election and you’d be wellpositioned for the future.”

Garcia was taken back by the strength in his voice and his conviction.

Benson held out his hand. “Think about it.” He winked. “But don’t take too long.” ***** 128

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Zack and his dad led the charge on cleaning up the dining room and the kitchen. When they finished the work, they all sat around the dining room table eating pie.

Zack kept an eye on his watch. He almost jumped out of his chair when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” he called as he was halfway to the door.

TJ watched Zack hustle toward the door. “I don’t think any of us could have gotten to the door before him anyway.”

When he reached the door and pulled it open, there stood Max looking, oh so good. He pulled her into a hug and kissed her. “Thank heavens you’re here. Worried me when I didn’t hear.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t call, but Jake kept me in his office. I didn’t want to call on their line or chance they could hear me on my cell.”

“Come on, let’s go into the dining room. We’ve saved you dinner. My mom is a great cook.”

When he stepped into the dining room, he called out, “Hey, everyone, this is Max.” TJ stood. “I remember you from Sea Isle City. I wasn’t sure we were going to get out of there in one piece.”

Max laughed. “Yep, close call, but we pulled it off.”

“Hi, Max, great to see you again,” Fairchild said. “Good to see you’re safe.”

Roger stood and walked over to shake her hand. “I’m Zack’s dad. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Please call me, Roger.”

Zack moved her toward a chair. “Come on, Max, sit and eat.

You must be famished.”

As she ate, she shared what had happened in Jake Early’s office. “Jake is not too hard to handle, but this Sean O’Leary is a different case. He’s a mean mother. I need to be careful as I can’t be sure if I’ve seen him somewhere before. Maybe around the casinos.”

“I checked him out,” Fairchild said. “Got quite a rap sheet.

He and his brother have a reputation of murder for hire. They’ve never been caught or should I say they have never been convicted on a murder rap. Since they’re identical twins, one can always provide an alibi for the other.”

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Zack shook his head. “Pretty handy to have a built-in alibi.”

“If one of them is arrested, he can always say it couldn’t be me cause I was on the other side of the country at the time,” Fairchild said. “The FBI has temporarily lost touch with the two of them, so it’s very interesting. Sean shows up here. Now the question is, where’s Michael and why is Sean here with Jake Early. He’s very expensive to hire.”

Max finished chewing a piece of roast. “He tried to push me around, claimed I was spying on them. I basically told him to shove it. He didn’t like it, but not much he could do about it because Jake stayed on my side. But if Jake hadn’t sided with me, it could have been bad. I’m sure O’Leary won’t forget how I got away.”

“What else do you know about him?” Roger asked.

Max finished a bite of pie. “First, he called for Jake Early. He told me he was in Brainerd with a package and to have Early call him. Later, a van brought a patient on a litter to the memory unit at the senior center. They have a door where they can load patients right into the memory unit.”

Roger put down his coffee cup. “Your story tracks with what we found in Brainerd. They have a small memory unit there.”

Fairchild chucked. “Max, Roger did an incredible job of acting as if he had dementia. I asked to see their memory unit.

The chief nurse wouldn’t let us in other than to just open the door a little.”

“I took that opportunity to push into the unit,” Roger said.

“Ten patients, all bedridden. When I leaned over to one woman, she whispered into my ear, ‘Help me’. That’s all the chance I had because the chief nurse called an orderly who forced me to leave.”

Zack finished a sip of coffee and leaned back. “A bunch of questions. Where do those patients come from? Was one of them moved from Brainerd to Minneapolis? Why is Sean O’Leary involved?”

“Sort of sums it up,” Roger said. “But the larger question is, what are we going to do about it?” ***** 130

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Zack heard the front door open and his mother call, “I’m home and I have a visitor with me.”

Zack stood, nervous about any other people in the house with all the activity. He started toward the hallway when a face peeked around the frame. “Hey, Pops.”

He stood there, mouth open, not knowing what to say.

“Laura, I didn’t know you were coming to Minneapolis. What a wonderful surprise.”

Laura poked him in the side. “That’s why they call it a surprise, silly.”

Zack had to laugh, mostly at himself. He reached over and hugged her. “It’s so great to have you here.”

Ethel walked into the dining room, smiling. “You all are so buried in whatever it is you’re doing, I thought how much fun it would be to have my beautiful granddaughter visit for the weekend. It worked out because her soccer practice has been canceled for tomorrow, so we thought about it for about thirty seconds and here she is. I hope you agree.”

Zack pulled away from the hug, not wanting to let go. “Boy, do I ever.”

Roger had to laugh. “I’ll have to say I knew about the surprise and had trouble keeping it under wraps. I’ve missed so much all those years and need to catch up.”

Zack reached over and took Max’s arm. “I’m not sure you’ve met my daughter, Laura.”

Max extended her hand. “I’ve heard so much about you,” “Hey,” Laura called, “You’re the gypsy. Right?”

Max laughed. “You bet. I spent my early years traveling with my mom. People say gypsies have a wandering lifestyle. It worked for us. We had a great time together.”

Laura got a puzzled look on her face.

Max raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead. I’ve heard it all. I’m proud to discuss my ancestry. You know, gypsy refers to the Romani people who can trace their roots from India all the way to Europe and America.”

Laura still seemed a little uncomfortable. Biting her lower lip, she asked, “Can you share a little of their history?”

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Max rubbed her chin. “Well, let’s see. Gypsies are believed to have arrived in Europe from northern India in the early1400s.

They were called gypsies because Europeans thought they came from Egypt. To be honest, I’m not sure why.”

“How many gypsies are there?” Laura asked.

“I believe about a million Romani people live in the United States. When I was growing up, we often spent our time with a carnival. It was fun. I still miss those days.”

“Is it true gypsies have a reputation for being thieves?”

Zack gulped.

Max glanced over at him. “Relax, my friend, she’s right. Much of it is because of the discrimination gypsies face. Many have trouble getting jobs so they need to steal and yes, they are good at it. We also love to gamble. I know I do. I love to play dice games.

Maybe I could teach you a fun game?”

She paused, then said, “No money will change hands.”

“Okay,” Zack said, “let’s have fun for a while.”

“I’m all for that,” Ethel said. “You all have been working too hard.”

Max taught them a game where you score points by getting a certain group of dice, such as three or four of a kind and runs.

“There’s a game here in the US called Farkle which is like our game. First one to a thousand points wins.”

It took about an hour to play with lots of laughter and fun. By the time they finished, it was almost midnight.

“I think we’d better quit,” Ethel said. “I’ve worked out sleeping arrangements so we can all fit.”

Zack ended up on a couch in the family room, stuffed into a sleeping bag. Max shared a room with Fairchild.

Not what Zack had in mind, but he didn’t want to frustrate his mom.

He was just dozing off when he heard a noise, then felt a warm naked body crawl in next to him.

Max giggled. “You didn’t think I was going to miss this opportunity, did you?”

Zack reached over to hug her and chuckled. “I sure hoped not.”

132

24 East Lansing, Michigan, Saturday, 6:30 a.m.

Agent Harper and Lieutenant Scott stood outside the Richard Austen Building at 430 Allegan Street in East Lansing.

Harper had arranged for an FBI plane to transport them to East Lansing at four o’clock that morning so they could make their appointment.

Scott stood on the corner, grumpy because she had missed her coffee at the airport. “Do you think this is worth it?”

“We’ll find out,” Harper replied. “I received a call from our senior agent here that a woman who worked in the Bureau of Elections had disappeared a week ago and returned yesterday.

Seemed confused.”

Scott nodded. “Like the others, except the women in Maryland and three other states haven’t returned, at least not yet.

Hard to figure how someone could be gone for three to six days and come back confused about where they’d been.”

“We’re supposed to meet a Mr. Schultz at seven o’clock so we’d better get moving.”

Scott shifted the overnight bag to her left shoulder. “Okay, I’m ready. Where do we go?”

Harper checked his phone. “Our contact is on the first floor.

We’re supposed to enter through the side door. He’ll meet us at the security desk.”

“Let’s move out.”

She followed Harper to the south side of the building. When they entered, Scott saw a security sign at a desk with a man in a brown suit standing behind it.

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“Must be the place,” Harper whispered. He led her to the desk and showed his identification badge, causing the security officer to straighten up.

That’s more like it, Scott thought. Would he have done the same if I had flashed my badge? Probably not.

The man pointed toward the scanner. “Please place any metal items on the tray, then proceed through the scanner.”

Harper took out change, his gun and a couple of other miscellaneous items, then walked through the scanner without a problem. Scott did the same and also had no problems.

By the time Scott got through the scanner and picked up her gear, Harper was talking to a man in a brown suit. Harper introduced her to Schultz, who led them to a small, windowless room and shut the door. “Please be seated. Coffee?”

Scott was desperate for coffee. Nodded. So did Harper.

They took seats and had their coffee before Schultz started his briefing. “It seems Ms. Cooper was coming home a week ago Friday after work when a man came up to her. She doesn’t remember anything more until she woke up at home in bed last night.”

“Was she dressed when she woke up?” Scott asked.

Shultz shrugged. “In the same outfit she’d been wearing last Friday afternoon.”

Harper took a sip of coffee. “Has this woman been a good employee in the past? No problems with depression or anything like that?”

“Absolutely,” Schultz replied. “She’s one of our most respected supervisors.”

Scott and Harper glanced at each other. “This is like other cases where the same thing happened. The woman kidnapped in Maryland hasn’t returned as yet.”

Schultz took out his note pad. “These other women worked in the elections section in each Department of State?’

“That’s right,” Harper said. “Can we meet her? By the way, what did you say her name was?”

“Cooper, Minnie Cooper.”

Scott started to chuckle. “Like the car.”

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Schultz hesitated, then nodded. “I must tell you, Ms. Cooper is a very good employee. Never had any medical issues and always on time. I’d also like to add she is in a fragile state. I’m sure she didn’t sleep much yesterday, trying to figure all of this out.”

Harper stood. “Thanks for having her available so quickly.”

“Absolutely,” Schultz said. “We all want this cleared up as soon as possible.”

Schultz took them to the fifth floor, then down the hallway to a conference room. A young woman who looked to be about thirty years old sat there, talking to another woman.”

“Ms. Cooper,” Schultz began, “this is FBI agent Harper and Lieutenant Scott, a police officer from Virginia.”

They all shook hands, then when Schultz nodded, the other woman left.

Harper took charge of the interview. “Ms. Cooper, I understand you’ve had quite an experience.”

Cooper bobbed her head, voice shaking. “If you mean missing six-plus days of my life and having no memory of what happened, yes, it’s been quite an experience.”

Harper spoke softly. “I know you’ve gone through this with others and probably yourself a hundred times, but could you repeat the story. Try to remember as much as you can.”

“Agent Harper, don’t you think I’ve been trying to do exactly that for the past day?”

“Of course you have, but we need you to repeat everything you can remember for us. Maybe we can help jog your memory.”

Scott listened carefully as Cooper repeated her story in a very shaky voice, holding tightly to her tissue. She remembered getting off the train, then heading home when she was approached by a man. “After that, everything is a blank until last night when I snapped back to reality.”

“Did you reach your house?” Scott asked.

The woman looked ready to cry. “This is driving me crazy.

What did I do? Who was I with? Did someone take stupid photos of me? This could be the end of my life!”

Scott used her softest, tender voice. “Ms. Cooper, we will try to do everything we can to help you find out what happened and 135

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who did this to you. Thank you for your time. We’ll get back to you as soon as we have anything that might be helpful.”

“Thank you. And I hope you believe me. As crazy as it sounds, that is exactly what happened.” She started to cry. “And I can’t remember a thing. Not a damn thing.”

“You may feel better to know this is basically the same story we’ve heard from others,” Harper said. “I don’t know what happened to you, but we intend to find out.”

“Thank you.”

“If you agree, we’d like to look around your apartment,” Harper continued. “Retrace your steps on that day and see if we can’t find someone who saw something. We’ll need your help.

First, we’ll check your apartment, then everywhere you went from the time you left work until things blackout for you. With any luck, we can find someone who can help us.”

The woman sobbed. “I was afraid no one would believe me.”

“We believe you and we want to help you.” ***** The senior agent in East Lansing provided a team of six FBI agents to meet them at the woman’s apartment. Harper gathered them into a grouping of chairs.

Scott went over the murder at the professor’s house. “Whoever stole the papers and killed the guard had a key to the back door and knew the exact location of the safe. They also knew the combination.”

“What’s so important about this material?” One of the agents asked.

Scott folded her hands. “A study on how to protect our election process. You all remember the problems we had with the 2016 election. The goal of this particular study was to prevent it from happening again. The study was classified top secret, so someone thought it was critically important.”

Scott paced around the front of the room. “Now to the case today. What happened to Ms. Cooper has happened to other women. Only a few have reappeared, but each one with no 136

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knowledge of where they’d been.” Scott pointed at the agents for emphasis. “Now get this. Each of these women works for a state election governing body.”

She heard a murmur from the assembled agents.

“As you may know, elections are coordinated locally. But each state has the responsibility to set up their own procedures.

It appears someone wants to mess with the system. We need to figure out who and why. And we need to do it before the next election, which isn’t far away. Any questions?”

“It doesn’t seem we have much to go on,” one of the agents said.

Harper stood up. “That’s true, but we do have two things to work with. We have a current photo of Ms. Cooper and a photo of a man we suspect may be involved. His name is Sean O’Leary.”

Harper circled the agents, pointing at each one as he talked.

“I want you four to fan out in a circumference around her apartment in groups of two and talk to everyone. I have a map of the area and I’ll give each group a copy. It’s broken out into four sections around her apartment. If her story is accurate, then whoever kidnapped her had to do it in one of these squares.”

Harper glanced at the other two agents. “I’ve made arrangements for you to get with the East Lansing Police Department. Review their video feeds from this area. Also, any other ideas the locals may have to help us. We must figure out what happened to her.”

“Sean O’Leary,” one of the agents said, “I’ve heard of him from one of my fellow agents. He’s a seriously bad dude.”

“That may be true, but I don’t really care,” Harper replied.

“Whoever did this had to get her out of this area somehow.

Scott and I will go through her apartment and see if we can find anything to give us a lead. Maybe this guy tried to contact her before the incident. When we finish, we’ll join you on the street.

Any questions?”

He stared at a quiet group of agents.

One raised his hand. “Agent Harper, this is shooting in the dark. Trying to find someone who saw this woman a week ago for maybe a minute or so. A real needle in a haystack.”

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Scott could see Harper had trouble controlling his temper.

“You don’t think I know it?” He fired out. “If you have any better ideas, I’d like to hear them. This is tough. But this is what I know. There is a possibility some bastard is working to screw up our election process. We’re in danger of losing the way we select our leaders. Not gonna happen. Not on my watch. Now get to work and let’s see some results.”

138

25 Minneapolis, Saturday, 6:30 a.m.

Much to her frustration, Max had to drag herself out of the warm sleeping bag cuddled next to Zack, put on a T-shirt, then sneak up the stairs to the room she shared with Fairchild.

Fairchild had to know what was going on, but hopefully didn’t care.

She opened the door as softly as she could and tried to sneak into the bathroom. As she showered, she thought about what this day might bring. Even though she had stood up to Sean the day before, she knew him to be a dangerous man. She had to watch her every step.

After she dressed, she tiptoed down the stairs to the lobby and peeked into the kitchen. She didn’t want to take time to brew coffee. Figured she’d stop on the way to the center for coffee and should still arrive at work before the others. Since it was Saturday, she might even have time to look around the office.

She walked quietly into the den where Zack slept, gave him a kiss on the cheek, then walked out the door and got in her car.

After a quick stop at a gas station to fill up the car with gas as well as herself with coffee, she arrived at the senior center about eight o’clock, early for her boss and O’Leary.

She grabbed her coffee, locked the car, and made her way to the employee entrance. A security guard sat at the front desk. She greeted the guard, someone she hadn’t seen before, and showed him her pass. He waved her through and she headed to her office.

Thankfully, no one yet had arrived in their office. She hung up her coat, put some of her stuff away, then walked into Early’s office and turned the lights on.

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She dampened down the raw nerves stalking her and walked over to his desk, checking the papers on top. Didn’t see anything of interest. Tried the top middle drawer. Found it locked. Each of the other drawers were also locked, so there wasn’t much she could do.

She wondered about his closet. Opening the door, she founded two coats, a jacket, and a pair of boots. Not much of interest. Then she spotted a file cabinet in the corner beneath the coats. Checked and found it unlocked. She opened the top drawer and saw a number of files.

Getting down on her haunches, she paged through the files, looking at the titles. Most of them were run of the mill things like potential trips to take, but the last one caught her eye. List of patients at Brainerd center.

She swallowed hard. This could be what Zack needed. But why would it be in an unlocked file drawer? Maybe he figured no one would look in his closet. Checked her watch. Eight thirtyfive. She’d never seen Early in before nine o’clock.

Taking a deep breath, she put the rest of the files back in the drawer, closed the closet door, then headed into her office. As she walked out of Early’s office, she glanced up to see O’Leary coming through the front door of the office. A sweep of pure panic enveloped her, and she hesitated for a moment.

He caught her eye. “What the hell are you doing in there?”

She felt her pulse quicken, but thought quickly. “What do you think? I’m opening my boss’s office before he gets here. Trying to make sure it’s neat and makes a good impression on him. Is that okay with you? Do you think he would like to work in a pig pen?

Maybe you would, but I don’t think Jake would.” Oops, had she gone too far with this guy?

She saw his gaze switch to her left hand, where she carried the file. If O’Leary got ahold of the file, she’d be toast. Better not try and hide it. Act like it’s all part of your job. “Now, can I finish what I’m doing? I’d like to keep my job and the best way to do it is to stay ahead of and impress my boss.”

O’Leary watched her for a minute, which felt like ten hours to Max. She walked over to her desk, sat, and began to organize 140

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things, feeling his eyes on her. Please, she thought, don’t let him come over and grab the file from my hands.

O’Leary stood there a little longer, then turned and went into the other office and hung up his jacket. She heard him moving in Tyson’s office opening and closing drawers. What could he be looking for in there?

She didn’t dare wipe the perspiration building on her face.

Just act cool. Now the next step is to make a copy of the list if it seemed important, then return the file to the cabinet before Early arrived. How in the world would she do that with O’Leary watching her like a hawk? She had to focus and still her shaking hands. She’d only have one chance and she needed to make it count. ***** Roger Kelly woke about seven o’clock, his normal time. He looked over at Ethel, sound asleep, her long hair spread on the pillow. He was lucky she had been welcoming after all those years he’d been gone. He loved her and wanted to work hard to make their life a happy one.

Deciding not to wake her, he rose and headed into the bathroom for a quick shower. When he got downstairs and began reading the paper, he thought back to the previous day’s activities.

He enjoyed working with Fairchild. A smart woman whose previous jobs had given her connections which proved to be helpful during their investigation.

He picked up his computer and listed the key things they had found in Brainerd. Guarding patients in a locked memory unit didn’t seem right. Why were they so concerned about other patients entering the memory unit?

Then his mind jumped to Bonnie’s sister, Debbie. Hard to believe she had disappeared without a trace. He posted the things he knew about her disappearance.

The detective told him her father was a minister, deeply religious. Had she been placed in some religious order? Possible.

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Was her father bothered by Bonnie’s switch to being a lesbian?

Twenty years ago, being a lesbian had to be more of a scandal. But it was Bonnie, not Debbie. Bonnie seemed to have ducked that point. He needed to talk with her about it. Could be important.

What about Early? Boyfriends had to be considered. Anyone else to consider? Maybe check out her various worksites and schools. Have to consider if drugs might be involved.

He found over time he needed to scratch itches which bothered him. Reaching into his briefcase, he pulled out the home phone number for Detective York who had led the investigation twenty years before and dialed.

The phone rang five times, then a drowsy voice answered.

“Hello.”

“Good morning. This is Roger Kelly. I talked with you earlier this week about the missing persons case on Debbie Swenson. I have a few more questions and wondered if you might have a few minutes to talk?”

“I guess you New York cops don’t sleep in on Saturday morning.”

Roger figured it would be best to plunge ahead. “I drove to Brainerd yesterday. A few things caught my attention. Debbie’s father was a minister. Is that correct?”

No comment. “Detective York?”

“Ah, yes?”

“I asked if Debbie’s father was a minister?”

“Yes, that’s right. Sorry, still trying to wake up.”

“No problem. Bonnie tells me she’s a lesbian. Do you know if Debbie happened to be a lesbian? Would being a lesbian bother her father?”

“What, a lesbian? I’d never heard anything like that. Nothing in the file I can remember. When I talked with him, her dad impressed me as being very conservative. I suspect he would not have liked it if she announced being a lesbian. You say Bonnie is a lesbian. Was Debbie?”

“I’m not sure. I suspect it could be possible. Did you investigate Jake Early? I understand the two of them dated.”

“We talked with him, but I don’t recall any formal investigation.”

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“I understand from talking to Bonnie he wanted all of his women to love him, not each other.”

Roger heard a loud laugh, broken up by a smoker’s cough.

Roger continued. “My partner and I walked around the Early cabin up in Brainerd yesterday. Quite a place.”

“Just a small cabin when I visited it years ago. We looked around, but didn’t spend much time there. You say it’s been expanded?”

“Sure has. Very nice, with an extensive lakefront view. I understand Early is a fisherman. As I walked around the site yesterday, I thought what a great place to hide a body. Lots of woods. No one would ever find remains without the right equipment.”

“As I’m thinking about the case, the fact she may have become a lesbian is something Jake wouldn’t have cared for. I don’t believe Debbie’s father would either. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think Jake would hurt her or anything like that, but you know, it wouldn’t have set well with either of them.”

“What about their mother?”

“I don’t believe she had much of a vote in the family. She made the food, washed clothes and not much else, if you know what I mean? Pretty conservative family.”

Roger knew exactly what York meant and he didn’t like it.

Now, what could he do about it? “Thank you for your time. Sorry to call so early on a Saturday morning.”

“No problem. The case of Debbie Swenson has always bothered me. I never felt we did a good job of closing her case.

She just disappeared into thin air and no one does that. If I can be of more help, please let me know.”

“Thanks again for your time,” Roger said. “If you can think of anything else, please call me. I promised her sister I’d look into the case for her, so I’m going to keep working it for a while.”

“Do you plan to return to Brainerd?”

“It’s certainly possible.”

“If you do, call me and I’ll be happy to travel around with you. Maybe pave the way with a few of our citizens.”

“Okay, will do. Thanks again for your time.”

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26 Senior Center, Saturday, 8:30 a.m.

Max glanced around. O’Leary sat at Tyson’s desk, so she figured this would be the best time to review the papers she’d found in the file drawer.

Looking back one more time to check on O’Leary, she fished the papers out she wanted and shuffled through them. As titled, the papers did contain a list of patients at the Brainerd Senior Center.

She spotted interesting comments in the remarks section.

Two patients hailed from Virginia, two from Maryland and one from Michigan. Why so far away? That seemed to be the only thing the patients had in common.

She had two choices. Slip the paper in her purse and hope Jake didn’t miss it or make copies and place the original back in the file. If Jake noticed the paper missing, he’d probably assume she took it and come after her with O’Leary.

She figured she’d make a copy for Zack, then put the list back before Early arrived. It would be tight, but she hated to wait until later in the day. He might check and notice the list missing.

If O’Leary stayed put for another twenty minutes, she could make the copies, then put the sheet back.

She stood and walked over to the copier in the corner of the office. That made it easy for her. Looking around one more time, she placed the one sheet on top of the copier, pressed two copies, then hit copy, her hands shaking.

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with making a couple of copies? Forcing back her panic, she had to keep moving ahead with her plan.

When she finished making the copies, she went back to her desk and put the original back in the folder. She checked her watch. Eight forty-five, still time.

Checking Sean one more time, she picked up a couple of letters she had typed after she arrived as a cover, then walked toward Jake’s door. No movement from O’Leary. Okay, do it.

Quick, do it.

She hurried into Jake’s office. Looking back one more time, she opened the door and ducked into his closet. Bending over the file cabinet, she pulled the top drawer open and replaced the file.

She pushed the drawer shut and turned to go back to her desk when the panic hit again.

Sean O’Leary stood in the doorway, blocking her path. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Her heart almost jumping out of her chest, Max said, “I’m just putting a couple of things away for Jake. Why are you so concerned about every little thing I do?”

“I don’t believe you.” O’Leary pulled out a gun. “We’re going to sit here and wait for Jake. I seriously doubt he wants you in his closet. If he doesn’t, then you’re going to tell me who you are and what the hell you’re up to.” ***** Harper and Scott had spent a fruitless hour going through Minnie Cooper’s apartment. They checked her desk, closets, dressers, files, mail, emails, phone logs, and found nothing.

Harper had contacted the local FBI office to see if they had any helpful information on Cooper. They did not.

Scott glanced over at Harper. “Well, I guess we’d better head outside and hit the pavement. The agent who bitched did have a point, but I don’t see we have any other choice. Someone has to have seen something. Maybe the local cops will be able to help us.

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She picked up the map from the end table. “Looks like we have the area to the southwest of her apartment. The train would have dropped her off directly west of her apartment, but we’re not sure of the route she took to her house. She could have dipped into our area so I suggest we start right next to her apartment and work our way toward the train.”

“Okay,” Harper said. “Let’s do it.”

They stepped outside and began talking to people along the street. About every third house, they stopped and knocked. Scott held up the photos of Cooper and O’Leary and asked if they had seen either one. Cooper seemed so quiet, Scott figured she wouldn’t draw much attention. And sadly, she was right.

They spent about an hour talking to people on the street, knocking on house doors, then going into apartment buildings and picking doors at random. No success. Nothing. No leads at all.

Finally, deciding they needed a break, they picked a coffee shop and sat for a few minutes, sucking down a cup and trying to figure out if this was as dumb as they felt it to be.

“What else should we be doing?” Harper asked, shaking his head. “What the hell else?”

“How about checking with the guys going over the video feeds. Maybe they’ve come up with something.”

Harper gave her a thumbs-up. “Will do.”

“If they picked her off the street, which seems the most likely,” Scott said, “then someone must have seen something.

They probably drugged her, which should have taken at least a minute or so for it to take effect. Hard to believe there wouldn’t have been some commotion. We need to find the right person.”

Then an idea hit her and she jumped up. “We are so stupid.”

Harper looked up, an astonished look on his face.

“These guys had to be here before she arrived home from work so they’d be ready,” Scott said.

It hit Harper at the same time. “You are so right. They had to wait for her and where better to wait than in a coffee shop?”

“You call the other agents to check,” Scott said. “I’ll get with these guys.”

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No one in this coffee shop had seen anything, but one of the other agent teams checked a diner two blocks away and an attendant behind the counter remembered O’Leary.

They hurried over to the diner. “He’s a hard guy to forget,” the woman said. “Big guy with a lot of tattoos, and mean-looking.

The kinda guy you don’t want to be mad at you. I made sure I was extra nice to him.”

“Can you remember the day and time he came by?” Scott asked.

“Let me check my time card.”

The agents waited for her to look at her schedule. “Yep, it had to be last Friday. I came on about four o’clock in the afternoon.

The man in the photo came in with another guy, bit of a tub who didn’t look too sharp.”

“Probably muscle,” Harper said.

“Let me think,” the woman said. “Two guys sat in the diner and I saw one guy still outside in the car. I’m not sure why I looked at the car. Another big guy. Sat drinking coffee, then all of a sudden, they left their cups and hurried out. I mean, almost ran. Took off to the left. Then the guy in the car drove off.”

“Do you remember what kind of car?” Harper asked.

The woman shook her head. “Sorry. Wasn’t anything unusual.

Probably a Buick or a Ford. Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. I thank you so much,” Harper said.

“You’ve been very helpful. Can you come with us and give us a description of the other two men?”

“I didn’t get a good look at the guy in the car, but I think I can help you with the man who sat in here with the mean guy in the picture.”

Okay, Scott thought, this is good. Not great, but good. A start. Finally, a start.

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27 Senior Center, Saturday, 11:00 a.m.

Max sat in Jake Early’s office across from Sean, who read a book and periodically glanced up at Max. “I know what you’re thinking,” O’Leary said, “but you can forget it. You’re going to stay right where you are until Jake gets here. Then I’m thinking we might have a little fun.”

Max knew exactly what O’Leary’s definition of fun might be.

She had to swallow the panic and think of a plan. Her best bet at getting away would probably be when Early first arrived and O’Leary’s attention was diverted from her.

Focus, she thought, focus. Once Early arrived and stood in the doorway talking to O’Leary, she could dash across the room and knock Early into O’Leary, then run like hell. If she could make it outside, she stood a chance. A long shot, but anything had to be better than sitting here like a bump-on-a-log waiting for whatever O’Leary had in store for her.

She heard Early enter the outer office. “Hey, Max, where are you? I have a couple of letters for you to type.”

She called, “Here, in your office.”

She poised for a spring toward the door.

Early came in and looked over at O’Leary. “What’s going on?”

O’Leary pointed at Max. “I think we …”

Max sprang from her chair and ran to the left of Early, pushing him in the direction of O’Leary. It worked. Early fell over and landed on O’Leary. She dashed out the door, hearing O’Leary shout, “Get the bitch. She’s spying on us.” Footsteps pounded behind her as she ran down the hall.

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“Stop,” O’Leary called. He fired a shot above her head. She knew she couldn’t make it to the door before he could fire again and hit her in the back. She stopped and put her hands in the air.

The receptionist screamed. Stood behind her desk, wideeyed, one hand over her mouth, seemingly frozen in position.

“What? What’s going on?”

O’Leary walked down the hallway, Glock pointed at her, a smile on his face. “Nice try, whoever you are, but it didn’t work.

No way you’re going to get away from me.”

He grabbed her arm to spin her around back toward Early’s office.

O’Leary turned to say something to the receptionist, and Max saw her chance. She kneed him right between the legs, causing him to yell out and bend over. A direct hit.

She gave him a karate chop to the neck and he fell to the floor. Spinning back around, she turned toward the door.

“Stop.”

Uh, oh, Early. He stood about ten feet away with a handgun, probably a .38 caliber pistol, pointed right at her. “Max, stop. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m going to find out and you’re not going anywhere until I do. Come back with me to the office and let’s sort this out.”

She pointed at O’Leary. “Son of a bitch tried to jump me when I was putting some papers in your office. I don’t get paid enough to put up with a bastard like him. Now let me go and we’ll call it even. I won’t report you to the police for sexual abuse.”

She watched. Almost had him. But, damn, not quite.

By this time, O’Leary was back on his feet, bent over. “I caught the bitch in your closet, stealing papers out of the cabinet in there. She had them in her hand. You sure as hell don’t want those papers out of there.”

Max’s mind flew, trying to think of an excuse Early would believe. She figured he would want to believe her, but what?

“Look, Jake, I was trying to determine what sort of papers you kept in that file. See if I could maybe put them together with all the other files. Type them up. Establish some order to your office.

I also want to organize your partner’s office.”

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Early was listening. Would he believe her?

“You need to have all your files on one subject in one place,” she countered. “I tried to do my job when this animal started grabbing at me. I think he would have raped me right there if I hadn’t told him to stop it, or I would tell you.”

Early watched her.

Keep at it. You might be getting him. “You’re my line of defense against O’Leary. You know he’s an animal. I don’t know why you put up with him?”

By this time, O’Leary was standing next to Jake. “She almost made it, Jake,” O’Leary said. “Almost pulled the wool over your eyes. But here are some of the papers I caught her with.”

He showed Early the pages and lowered his voice. “These are the names of people we have kidnapped or done something with.”

Early looked at her, squinting. “Max, what the hell were you doing with these papers? This has nothing to do with your job.

Nothing to do with our program here.”

O’Leary was winning him over. Max didn’t know how to turn it around. The papers were condemning her.

Jake held up the papers. “Max, I’m surprised at you.”

Max turned toward the receptionist. “Help me. I think these guys are trying to do something to me.”

Early walked over to the desk. “We found her trying to steal valuable papers about the center. I need to call the police.”

Each of the two men took one of her arms and led her down the hallway. Jake turned to the receptionist. “Call Bryant. Tell her to bring some special medicine to my office.”

Oh, Zack. Help me. ***** Benson sat in his office in Washington, DC, pouring over the latest poll numbers.

“The numbers on Farmington showed us lagging in the states we need without much time to pick up the pace. The plan to capture current data from the state office computers will help, but will it be too late?”

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He growled. “We should be doing better than these show.” He picked up the books with the polls in them and threw them up against the wall. “Fucking polls.”

He looked up to see Garcia standing in the doorway. She shook her finger at him and said with a smile, “Temper, temper.

You’ll get yourself all stirred up and won’t be good to anyone.”

He burst out laughing. “I guess you’re right. What brings you to the hot seat of our campaign?”

Garcia stepped into his office. “I’m interested in how your candidate is doing. I can’t imagine him upsetting the president, but you never know.”

Benson nodded. “Damn right. You never know. Are you about ready to jump on the winning train and join our team full time?”

“If your recent antics are any guide, I’d have to say I don’t see you as the engineer on a winning train.”

“Garcia, that’s just me. If you look at our poll numbers today compared with two weeks ago, we’re going great guns. The polls show us needing more support among minorities. That’s where you come in.”

“You mean your all-white boys’ club needs a little help from us brown guys?”

“I don’t know about that, but I do have one question for you.

Did you tell me you grew up in Texas? Austin?”

Garcia nodded, ready to anticipate his next question.

“Are you related to Emilia Garcia, the best-selling author on meditation and women’s issues?”

“Why?” “I think you could help me better understand women’s issues, particularly minorities.”

“Are you telling me I couldn’t help you if I weren’t related to Emilia Garcia? Just being a minority and all.”

Benson looked at the floor for a moment. When he looked up, he asked, “Do you always bust men’s balls? Don’t you ever answer ‘sure, how can I help you?’”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to have a famous parent?

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what? Does that make me a better person? Sharper? More fun to be around? Your campaign can go to hell. Right down the tubes.”

Benson stood up. “All right, I made a mistake. Now, will you please brush the chip off your shoulder and help us?”

She stared off in the distance, then nodded. “All right. What do you want me to do?”

Benson sat, took a deep breath, then smiled. “Help me win this fucking election. That’s all I want. Honest.”

Garcia laughed. “Oh, if that’s all. Not too big a deal. What’s next?”

Benson gave her a thumbs-up. “So you’re in? Wonderful.

We’re having a meeting at four o’clock this afternoon in our conference room down the hall. Be there and we’ll give you our thirty-second orientation.”

Garcia laughed as she turned to go back out the door.

“Probably the shortest orientation I’ve ever received. See you then.”

As she disappeared down the hallway, Benson pushed a buzzer on his desk. A deep voice answered, “Yeah.”

“Garcia agreed to come on board. I told her to be back at four o’clock. I want to see where she goes and who she calls when she thinks she’s on the team.”

“Yeah. I’m on the way.”

Benson hung up the phone and thought, She’ll be a good addition to the staff. He hoped she was on the level, but something told him to be careful. He’d been down that road before and got an unpleasant surprise.

152

28 Senior Center, Minneapolis 6:00 p.m.

Max awoke, her head buzzing. She had no idea where she’d been. She tried to lift her hand, but couldn’t. Bending up, she saw her arms and feet were pinned to a bed with straps. She could only lean forward a short distance before the straps pulled her back.

She glanced to her right to see a slender woman in a white dress standing in the doorway. The woman looked familiar, but she couldn’t place her. “I see you’re awake. Good. I didn’t want to give you too much.”

Max struggled to shake the fog from her brain, but she couldn’t remember. Couldn’t. “Where am I? Who are you? What’s going on?”

The woman talked in short, measured sentences. “Good evening.” She looked at her watch. “It’s about six o’clock in the evening. You’re still at the senior center where you work. My name is Marge Bryant. I’m the chief nurse at the center. We met briefly when you first arrived. Jake caught you taking papers you shouldn’t have. That’s why you’re tied down.”

Max struggled to think. Couldn’t get her memory in focus.

She remembered taking some papers, but couldn’t remember why. “I know I’m a secretary. If I had some papers, I must have been going to make copies for file. That’s what I do. Why Jake hired me. Why have you done this to me?”

“Jake told me he’d come by once you’re awake. He’ll explain more when he gets here.”

“Can’t you untie me? It’s very uncomfortable.”

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“You wouldn’t be tied up if you hadn’t done something wrong.

It won’t be long before you’re out of your pain. Just be patient.”

Even in her stupor, Max didn’t like the sounds of those words.

“What are you going to do with me?”

“That’s up to Jake. Now he’ll be here shortly. So just relax.

He’ll explain everything.”

Max lay back for a moment and must have dozed. When she came to again, Jake stood next to her bed. “Max, you disappointed me. You had a bright future here. I could see you working up to be an executive. But you had to show we couldn’t trust you by stealing papers you shouldn’t have had in your possession.”

She had to focus. “Jake, I wasn’t trying to steal anything. I was just trying to improve the filing system. Make it easier for you to find things and easier for me to help you find them. Believe me, I like working here. I like you. It’s a great job.”

Her mind wouldn’t let her focus. Why couldn’t she think?

“I’ve asked Sean to get more information on you. If it turns out you have been lying to me, then it will not go well for you.”

Oh, no, she thought. Sean’s such an animal. ***** Garcia stepped out of Benson’s office, turned right and began walking down “M” Street. Benson probably didn’t completely trust her as yet, and the way to check it out would be if he put a tail on her. She didn’t see anyone yet, but the evening was young.

She turned east on 26th Street and headed down the block, gazing in each of the store windows she passed. Then she saw him. It surprised her how much he looked like the picture of Sean O’Leary. But, O’Leary is supposedly in Minneapolis being watched by Zack.

She reached “N” Street and turned right, interested to see if the man followed. He did.

So Sean O’Leary had moved back here to Washington. She wondered for how long. Zack gave her the impression O’Leary spent his time in Minneapolis with the staff at the senior center.

Just keep leading him for a few more minutes before pulling a switch.

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It took another fifteen minutes before she made it to 27th Street. She looked in a window, O’Leary still behind her. Not a very imaginative fellow.

He kept trudging along behind her. Time to pull a switch. See how he liked reporting it to his boss. The clown probably figured he was the big bad guy and didn’t have to worry about the little lady. Mr. O’Leary, we’ll see.

At the next corner, Garcia slipped into a doorway and waited.

O’Leary passed her not ten feet away, but just trooping along happily, not paying much attention to things around him.

She gave him a half block head start as he wouldn’t be paying much attention. It would probably be a little longer before he became suspicious and wondered where in the hell she had gone.

She kept behind him for another quarter block, then sped up.

When she caught him, she hugged in right behind him, pulled out her Glock and stuck it in his back.

He stiffened.

“Don’t move a muscle. Just keep walking. You don’t know me, but I want you to understand I will not hesitate to shoot.

Probably be in the leg. That way, you’ll be able to limp along with me, knowing I mean business.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” He growled. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the dainty little fairy princess you’ve been directed to follow. Well, my friend, you screwed up. Underestimated me. Big mistake.”

He stiffened, his body language showing his anger. He knows how embarrassed he’ll be when the two of us get back to see Benson. “Look, don’t try anything. I am far faster than you are.

I’ve got my gun in your back and know how to use it.”

A couple of quiet growls.

“What is your name?”

“None of your fucking business.”

She pushed the barrel of her pistol into the area by his kidneys, knowing how painful it would be.

A cry of pain.

“Look, dumb shit. If you answer my questions, I won’t hurt you. If you don’t, I’m just beginning.”

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He wheeled around to hit her in the face. She used her right leg to knock out his left leg and he fell on the ground. She pointed her pistol right in his face and stepped hard on his crotch.

She looked around, saw people watching. “Nothing to worry about ladies and gentlemen,” she called to the crowd and flashed her Military Police badge. No one would know the difference.

“FBI. I’m arresting this drug dealer. Sorry for all the noise, but he insisted he wanted to fight.”

She looked down at him and read his rights to him as everyone listened. He grimaced, his expression showing one of real pain as she kept her foot on his crotch.

When she finished reading his rights, she leaned down and whispered, “Okay, how about getting up before I end your child producing plans forever.”

He glared at her, then nodded, Garcia stepped back to give him some space, but kept her Glock pointed right at his belly.

When he stood up, she yelled, “All right, asshole. Turn around. I’m booking you. Start moving.”

It took about twenty minutes before the two of them reached the campaign’s offices. “Open the door. Let’s go in and meet with Mr. Benson. Won’t that be fun?”

She walked behind him to Benson’s office. Benson looked up when O’Leary stepped in, Garcia hidden behind him.

“All right,” Benson called. “What did you find out?”

She stepped out from behind O’Leary. “He found out I’m a mean mother, not one who likes to be tailed, at least not poorly.”

Benson stared, open-mouthed at both of them. Then he started to laugh. A real belly laugh. “Let me get this straight.

Michael, you were tailing Garcia? She somehow got the drop on you and marched you back in here. Is that about what happened?”

O’Leary stared back at him. Then at Garcia. She could feel the hate building in his eyes. O’Leary probably didn’t care much for being upstaged in front of his boss. He turned and stalked out of the office.

Benson watched him leave. “I think you’ve made a terrible enemy. Michael is not one to be laughed at.”

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“Michael? I thought his name was Sean.”

Benson glanced at her. “How did you learn that name? Not many people know about Sean. I don’t think you should let Michael hear you say it.”

Garcia realized she’d hit a gold mine, but had to figure a way to work out of it without having Benson get suspicious. “I don’t know where I heard the name. Must have been somewhere round here. Is it important?”

“Yes. Just don’t let Michael hear you talk about his brother.”

Garcia nodded. A bad mistake. Had she recovered? She wasn’t sure, but had to hope so. She had a feeling he’d be watching her.

Now to call Steele and let him know what she’d found out.

157

29 The White House, Washington, DC, Saturday, 10:00 p.m.

Garcia stepped into Admiral Steele’s outer office, glad the boss could work her in. Lack of sleep dragged on her. She knew his schedule was chocked full, but she had to get information to him.

His secretary motioned for her to walk into the admiral’s office. When she entered, she was surprised to see Scott as well as Agent Harper already sitting at the conference table.

The White House Chief of Staff, Richard Pearson, sat there along with some guy in a tweed sport coat. Tweed suit looked like some big deal college professor.

Admiral Steele motioned for her to take a seat at the table. “I was delighted to hear from you, Garcia, and look forward to what you have to tell us. You know everyone here except Professor Albert Franklin. Professor Franklin teaches computer science at Harvard University.”

Garcia nodded at the professor, who nodded back. Why had Admiral Steele invited a prof to his office?

“Garcia, why don’t you update us on what you’ve found at the Patriot office with Sonny Benson.”

Garcia talked through her discussions with Benson and her tricking Michael O’Leary on her walk.

“Wait a minute,” Harper said. “The guy Kelly is dealing with is O’Leary, but I thought he was Sean O’Leary.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Garcia said. “Sean O’Leary is in Minneapolis, but his brother, Michael O’Leary, is here in DC working with Benson. They are identical twins. It seems Sean 158

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works mostly in Minneapolis, but sometimes it might be Michael.”

“Let me get his file out again,” Harper said. “See what else I can find out about the two of them.”

Steele thought for a moment. “Since they’re twins, they may be able to front for one another. We may think we’re dealing with one and actually dealing with the other.”

Garcia leaned forward. “Let me plant another thought. I checked the file and found Michael O’Leary was a sharpshooter in the army. He may have been the one involved in the sniper incident in Minneapolis.”

Scott snapped her fingers. “We must be dealing with both of them as we search for the kidnappers. It’s the perfect cover. One does something in Minneapolis, the other is in Washington and gives his twin an alibi.”

“One other quick thing,” Garcia said. “While I was meeting with Benson, his admin assistant came in and told him he had a call from the Deputy Secretary of Defense.”

Steele glanced at the chief. “I was hoping that wasn’t the case but it seems he may be involved in the plot. This could go to what we talked about earlier.”

“I agree, but let’s talk about that later.” Pearson cleared his throat. “First, let me introduce Professor Franklin. The fact he is even here we need to keep secret. Albert teaches artificial intelligence at Harvard.”

Garcia frowned. Artificial intelligence? She’d heard the name, but didn’t know much about it.

“Iknowmanyofyoumaynotunderstandartificialintelligence.

To be honest, I hadn’t either until yesterday.” Pearson motioned to Franklin. “Albert, why don’t you give us an executive summary of AI?” Franklin cleared his throat. “Thank you, sir. Actually, artificial intelligence often gets a bad rap. It sounds much more complicated than it actually is. The thing to remember is as we get to know more about it and use it more, years from now it could compete with humans for control of some or all of our systems.”

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He looked around at each of the participants. “I realize the concerns you may have. There have been a number of movies where AI has taken over the world. I don’t see that happening, but mankind must keep control or it could. The real danger is other countries might be using what they learn in AI for their own purposes.”

“I’m confused,” Garcia said, “what exactly is it?”

“Okay, enough introduction. In computer science, artificial intelligence, sometimes called machine intelligence, is intelligence demonstrated by machines, in contrast to the natural intelligence displayed by humans. Sounds simple enough.”

Harper raised his hand. “Are we talking about computers going off on their own without guidance from people?”

Franklin chuckled. “That’s where the concerns come in. Some computer scientists express unease that if we feed information into computers, we may not be able to stop what they do with the information.”

“I’m just a simple person,” Garcia said, “but I don’t like the sounds of what you’re saying.”

“Okay.” Franklin said, “Try this. Artificial intelligence is made up of machine learning algorithms. In other words, the computer is given basic information, then tries to figure out rules through a trial and error process. Of course, this is done at incredible speed, far faster than any human could do it, and probably more accurately.”

Franklin paused a moment, probably to let the attendees grasp what he had said. “The exciting part, as well as the dangerous part, is the machine may discover rules and correlations the programmers didn’t think of or might not even know.”

He paused again. “To conclude, AI is almost like teaching a child rather than programming a computer. We must ensure the child, once he or she has learned the rules, does not use them against us.”

Scott chimed in. “You’re saying this is how the machine might take over, and if fed by hackers, could put those hackers in charge?”

Pearson cut in. “Professor, why don’t you give us an example?”

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“Sure. For example, in commercial aviation, the use of AI dates as far back as 1914, depending on how loosely you define autopilot. An article I saw in the New York Times estimates the average flight of a Boeing plane involves only seven minutes of human-steered flight, which is typically reserved for takeoff and landing. The rest is performed by autopilot.”

Heads nodded around the table.

“You all understand what I just said,” Franklin said. “And it’s really not a big deal.”

“You better go on,” Pearson said. “I want our staff to understand our concerns.”

“Yes sir,’ Franklin said. “My department is uneasy with research being done in other countries, most notably China.

From what we can determine, much of their research focuses on how AI can take over and manipulate other countries’ programs by hacking into their computers.”

Garcia leaned back. “Holy crap.”

Steele laughed. “Once again, Garcia, I believe you’ve summed up my fears. The reason we have kept this so closely held is there may be staff of the National Security Council who could be working with foreign governments to help Farmington and the Patriot party win the White House in our next election.”

“We need to get this information to Zack,” Harper said. “For one thing, we don’t know if this is tied into what the O’Leary brothers are doing.”

“I agree,” Steele said. “And to be honest, I’m hesitant to use normal communication channels. That’s why I sent TJ to Minneapolis. Now we may need to send someone else.”

Scott leaned forward. “I”m not a Fed, but I’d be happy to travel to Minneapolis and pass the word. I just got back from Michigan with Agent Harper, but he can keep track of our efforts here in this area.”

“That’s my thought,” Steele said.

“How real do we see this threat?” Scott asked.

Steele looked at Agent Harper. “Why don’t you share what you and Scott found out in East Lansing today.”

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“Yes, sir. The staff members who have been kidnapped from various state headquarters have all been assigned to the election staff for those states.”

Garcia took a deep breath.

“Scott and I flew to East Lansing to meet with one of those staff members. Ms. Cooper has no memory of what happened to her. We were able to determine at least one of the O’Leary brothers was involved in her kidnapping.”

Admiral Steele stood. “The real problem is those kidnapped are all key members of the computer staff in the elections department. If someone wanted to use AI to rig our next election, using their skills and passwords would be the perfect place to start. Now you all know the problem. We need to fix it before it gets any worse. ***** Zack sat in his parents’ study watching television. Not paying much attention as his mind stayed focused on Max. She knew he’d be waiting for her call, so the fact she hadn’t called could be bad.

She was supposed to contact him by six o’clock at the absolute latest. So far, he hadn’t heard anything from her, worrying him her cover had been blown.

Laura came downstairs from her room. “Dad, I think I’m headed for bed.”

“Okay, honey. I’m sorry I haven’t been better company.”

“I understand. Didn’t I hear Max was supposed to call you earlier today? If she doesn’t call, is it a problem?”

“To be honest, honey, I’m worried. I can’t go over to the senior center as she may be doing fine. My appearance would be the last thing she’d need.”

Laura came over, sat on the edge of his chair, then gave him a kiss. “Knowing you, you’ll come up with the right answer.”

“I wish I had your confidence. I’m hoping it will work out.”

“How about if I sit up with you for a while? You know. Keep you company. I think Max is terrific.”

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“Don’t worry about it, honey, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, see you in the morning.” She blew him a kiss and turned to go back up the stairs.

He sat around for the next half hour. Finally, he changed the channel to check on the eleven o’clock local news. The lead story revealed a serious fire at a senior center in Brainerd.

He sat up straight and turned up the volume. Brainerd, the location of one of Jake’s nursing homes. Could there be any relationship between the fire and Max? Could Max be caught in the fire? The thought tied his stomach into knots.

He hurried up the stairs to his parents’ room and knocked on the closed door. He heard a murmur and called, “Dad, it’s me. I need you to answer the door.”

In a moment, his father opened the door, hair mussed. “Hey, son, what’s going on?”

“Sorry to wake you, but I’m watching the eleven o’clock news and saw a segment on a fire in Brainerd at a senior center. I still haven’t heard from Max and I’m worried she’s in trouble. Then when I saw the fire, well...”

His dad put his fingers to his lips. “Just a minute. I’ll be right down.”

He turned to go back downstairs when he heard another door open and Tara Fairchild came out in her bathrobe. “I heard what you told your dad. Let’s go down and see what we can figure out.”

When they got back to the study, the news showed a segment about one of Farmington’s rallies. Tara pulled her phone out. “I’ll scan my phone and see what I can uncover.”

She began pushing keys while Zack turned back to the television. The segment on the fire returned. He heard the reporter say, “From what we can determine, the fire started in the back of the senior center and spread rapidly to encase roughly one-quarter of the center.”

The announcer turned to a man in uniform. “I have with me the Brainerd police chief. Chief, what have you able to put together so far?”

The chief who was much taller than the announcer leaned down to talk into the mic. “It started about a half-hour ago and 163

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appears to have begun in the memory care unit at the back of the center. There are around fifteen patients and five staff in the unit.”

The announcer cut in. “Chief, did everyone get out safely?”

“It’s hard to answer with the limited information we have right now. The fire department has been fighting the fire, and we’ve been blocking people from getting too close. My concern is some of the patients must be bedridden. We don’t know if they could have gotten out on their own.”

Zack heard Fairchild’s voice off to his left. “Yeah, and those bastards had some of the patients strapped to the beds.”

Zack wheeled to face Fairchild. “Strapped to the beds.

Criminal.”

“Remember, when your dad got on the ward, he reached one of the beds. The person was tied down and whispered, help me. If we find some of these patients couldn’t get out, I’ll never forgive myself for not acting faster.”

“Damnit,” Zack said, “I need to drive up there. And I need to do it right away.”

His dad looked over at Fairchild, who nodded. We’ll go with you.”

Zack headed for the stairs.

164

30 Minneapolis Airport, Sunday, 5:00 a.m.

Scott’s redeye landed at the Minneapolis Airport a little before five o’clock Sunday morning. She called right away, figuring if she woke Zack he’d just have to suck it up. Too much going on for him to spend his time sleeping.

As it turned out, Zack, Fairchild, and Zack’s dad had packed to leave for Brainerd. They told Scott they planned to drop off TJ and she should wait in front of the arrival doors and they’d pick her up. So here she stood, thinking she should have a red rose in her teeth, but hell, she couldn’t have everything, A black Toyota Highlander pulled up. Scott spotted Zack in the passenger seat.

TJ jumped out of the back seat. “I’m headed back to DC to brief Admiral Steele on what’s going on. You can have my seat in the back.”

She waved to him and jumped into the back with Fairchild.

Roger Kelly hit the accelerator as they roared away from the curb.

“What’s going on?” Scott asked.

Zack explained about not hearing from Max, then he summarized the spot on the television news about the fire in the senior center.

“Zack’s dad and I were up there yesterday,” Fairchild said.

“Roger managed to get into the memory care unit and some of the patients were tied to their beds with straps.”

“Strapped down,” Scott exclaimed. “And the fire might have been in the unit?”

Fairchild nodded. “Those bastards have shown themselves capable of stopping at nothing to get their way.”

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“Well, take a deep breath,” Scott said. “I bring you all kinds of tidings, none of them good.”

She explained their efforts in Michigan to figure out what had happened to the woman who’d been kidnapped. “We think it was probably O’Leary who did it, but we’re not sure which one.

There are two of them, Sean and Michael. And get this, Michael is an army-trained sharpshooter.”

“That could explain what happened to Jean,” Zack said. “The shot was from a distance. Sadly, hit its target exactly. She never had a chance.” He let out a short, sharp breath before looking up.

“No chance at all.”

“Two other tidbits,” Scott said. “Although neither of these are tidbits.” She explained about Professor tweed suit and his discussion of artificial intelligence. “This is causing big-time concerns with Admiral Steele and the White House Chief of Staff.”

Scott paused for a moment, then continued. “My last point is Garcia overheard General Farmington’s Chief of Staff taking a call from the Deputy Secretary of Defense. It might have been perfectly harmless, but add the call to the thought we may have elements of the National Security Staff who have gone over to the dark side and it gets pretty scary.”

“Do you have any good news?” Zack whispered, almost in shock.

“No,” Scott said, “best I can do is my flight got here without crashing. Good news for me.”

Her comment brought cheers from the rest of the occupants of the car.

Scott leaned forward toward Zack. “What are we going to do when we reach Brainerd.”

Zack had to bite his lip. “No idea. Any ideas?”

Fairchild sighed. “Roger and I have been compromised as we visited there yesterday, acting as a dementia patient and his daughter.”

Roger called back from the front seat. “Surprised me how easy I could play my role.”

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“Why don’t I take a leadership role there?” Scott said. “They haven’t seen me at all. I could flash my badge around and hope no one takes too close a look at it.”

Zack turned to Scott for a second. “Actually, not a bad idea.

You could say your grandmother is staying there and you have come in to see if she’s all right.”

Scott thought about his comment for a moment, then said, “Should work. How much longer before we get there?”

“About an hour,” Zack said. “So why don’t you all relax. I’ll blow the whistle when we get close.”

“Sounds good,” Scott commented. “I could use a little shuteye.” ***** Garcia ambled down M Street from where she parked her bike. She needed more info, but wasn’t sure how to proceed without giving herself away. The admiral’s concerns about artificial intelligence added a new wrinkle.

Michael O’Leary would be gunning for her. He’d pounce on any mistake, and make sure Benson knew about it.

It took her a few minutes before she reached the offices. She checked the time. Seven-thirty in the morning, no wonder she dragged. She couldn’t remember the last time she had gotten a good night’s sleep.

She felt bad for Harold. No time to play very long with him last night. Poor cat had been left almost alone for three days. If she couldn’t get home today, she’d have to call her neighbor and ask her to look in on Harold and play with him for a while.

She rolled her shoulders to ease the tension, then pushed the front door open. Didn’t hear any voices. Alone? Maybe she could poke into one room, then another.

As she walked down the hall, she finally heard voices. Loud voices. Arguing. One voice sounded like Benson, but the other was high-pitched broken English.

Keep walking. Act like you belong. She made it to one of the general conference rooms. Peeked in. Benson sat at the head of 167

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the table. Michael O’Leary to his right. Four other men and one woman rounded out the table.

Benson looked over at one of the men. “Okay, Agent Wright, what do you think we ought to do about those two?”

Holy crap, where had she heard his name? She wanted to listen, but it wouldn’t work. Remember. Act like you belong.

She walked into the room, head high, looking around.

Benson glanced up, a surprised expression on his face. “Garcia.

What brings you here?”

“I woke up early and thought you might need some help?”

O’Leary jumped up. “Why the hell do we let her walk around in here with no one watching her? I don’t trust the broad.”

Garcia walked over next to him and glared up. “You are such a jerk. First of all, I do belong here. Benson invited me. If he wants to cancel my invite, let him say so. And secondly, I am not a broad. I am a woman, an Army officer, and I thought a fellow team member.”

“All right,” Benson said, “Knock it off. Garcia’s right. She’s on the team and has every right to be here.” He paused. “However, Michael has a point. You don’t belong in this meeting. Why don’t you head down to the desk I set up for you one floor down. We should be done here in a few minutes.”

Garcia smiled at O’Leary and walked into the hallway, then bounced down the stairs. She’d put O’Leary down in front of the others. He wouldn’t like it, but they all knew she belonged. One merit for Garcia.

She stepped into a large conference room, one lined with a multitude of desks, phones and computers, but no people. Must be too early. Probably everyone worked late, drank late, then went home to sleep it off.

Garcia started around the room. In one corner, she spotted a wooden desk with her name written on a piece of paper and she even had a chair. Well, she thought, this must be my new home.

She glanced around, but didn’t recognize any other names.

She sat and picked up an orientation manual. Scanned through the pages. Not rocket science. If she understood it right, her job would be to bring in more Hispanic voters, particularly military.

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She thought back to the group again. She knew Benson and O’Leary, but had to figure out where Agent Wright fit into the organization.

She needed to locate groups with military members, particularly Hispanic, and talk to them. Sounded easy. But she’d have to think about it. She needed to show results in order to keep Benson satisfied.

Noise on the stairs. She held up the manual to look busy. A group of people stumbled down the stairs, all talking at once.

Michael O’Leary walked at the front of the group between Benson and the short Oriental man who had peaked her attention.

Admiral Steele had said the Chinese were involved in the artificial intelligence program. The program appeared to be a major concern to Steele. Could this guy be important? She needed to keep an eye on him.

Next to the Oriental guy walked the man who had been identified as Agent Wright. They hurried past her door, with none of them dropping off to come into the room where she sat.

Obviously, she wasn’t in the fast lane.

She needed to see where the group was headed. Maybe to another site, which she felt would be very helpful to the admiral.

Or maybe just to a coffee pot. She realized her one cup was starting to wear thin.

Garcia stepped out into the hallway and watched. O’Leary, the Oriental, and two other staff, including Agent Wright, grabbed jackets and headed toward the front of the building. She needed to follow them.

She moved down the hallway, trying to appear to be looking for coffee. As she watched, the group reached the front door and stepped outside.

She hurried back to her office and grabbed her jacket. A beautiful day, but her motorcycle required a jacket along with her helmet and goggles.

Leave them enough time to get ahead of her, she thought, but don’t lose them. She watched through the window in the front door. Saw the group getting into separate vehicles. O’Leary, the Chinese man, and Agent Wright climbed into a black Mercedes and it roared to life. Probably the one to follow.

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The driver pulled out of the parking space and started down “M” Street. Garcia hustled down the street to her motorcycle, thanking her stars it was so easy to park, fired it up and pulled in three car lengths behind the Mercedes.

She had to stay far enough back to not be discovered. Her advantage was few people realized she rode a motorcycle, plus the goggles and helmet covered her appearance.

As she followed the Mercedes, she dialed in her earbud phone to leave a message with the admiral’s secretary. She wanted him to know who she was following and that she would stay in touch as best she could.

170

31 Brainerd Senior Center, Sunday, 8:00 a.m.

Scott woke up as Zack pulled into the city of Brainerd. She glanced around and could smell the smoke and see some of it curling up in the sky.

She spotted the statue of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Ox. “So that’s what this Paul Bunyan thing is all about. Big guy. Must have been one hell of a logger.”

Zack laughed. “You’ve hit it on the head. He’s important in north-central Minnesota. I remember the legend when I was a kid. We used to drive up here to fish. Paul Bunyan has always been a big deal in my mind.”

He turned toward Roger. “Dad, do you remember where the senior center is. I imagine with the fire and everything else, it should be pretty easy to find.”

“You’re headed the right way,” Roger said. “Only a few blocks more.”

They traveled two more blocks, then he turned right. The center stood in front of them, still burning.

“It looks like about a third of the building is gone, flattened to the ground,” Roger said. “I hate to think of casualties. The count could be awful.”

“I heard on the news earlier, four people have died so far,” Zack said. “And I hope and pray Max isn’t one of them.”

“I do, too,” Scott said. “Why don’t you drop me off before anyone spots us. I’ll be more convincing if I can walk up and look like I had to leave my car down the block. Now, who am I looking for?”

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“Maxine Powell goes by the alias, Maxine Petersen. She is the undercover person we’re worried about,” Zack said. “We haven’t heard from her in over twenty-four hours. Some of the women who’ve been kidnapped from the various state election offices may be here as well.”

“Do we have any idea the names they might be using?” Scott asked.

Zack shook his head. “I’ve got names in my briefcase, but I doubt those names will be used. I’m sure Jake has registered them under assumed names. The center is owned by Jake Early and Freddie Tyson. The sniper shot Tyson’s wife. A wonderful woman named Jean Edwards.”

“Have you got photos of all these people?” Scott asked.

Zack pulled out a large envelope. “Here you go. Each of them have names on their picture.”

Scott opened the envelope and started through the photos.

“Early looks to be in pretty good shape, but Tyson looks like hell.”

“About sums it up,” Zack said.

Scott whistled under her breath. “Wow, this Max is a looker.”

“And incredibly capable.”

“I’m sure she is,” Scott replied. “I’ll do my best.”

She stepped out of the car and hurried toward the building. It looked as if most of the fire had been contained.

Stepping up to one of the cops, she flashed her badge. “Who’s in charge here? I’m with the Feds and my cousin is supposed to be in this building. I want to know how many have gotten out?

Have any people died?”

“Let me get the sheriff for you. Please wait a minute.”

Scott was impressed. These small-town guys are okay. The guy even said, please. None of this ‘who the hell are you’ stuff.

In a few minutes, a tall man about six feet tall and a well proportioned two hundred pounds hurried over to her.

“Okay, who are you?” He asked.

“Inspector Scott. My cousin is staying here. Young woman.

Has had some problems with memory loss. I happened to be in Minneapolis and saw the segment on television. My mom climbed my case to get up here.”

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“I’m Sheriff Erickson. We don’t know much yet. The fire chief told me the fire is well contained. It was predominately in the memory unit.”

Scott leaned in to whisper. “I’ve heard they keep the memory unit locked up and sometimes even strap down patients. Sounds like a piss poor way to treat patients with memory issues.”

Erickson shook his head. “Piss poor way to treat any patients.

Where did you hear that?”

“From people who had been on the ward. One guy I talked to got thrown off the ward by some tough guy.”

“Would these people be willing to make statements? I would like to check this out.”

“Don’t know. Is Jake Early here? I understand he and some guy named Tyson are the co-owners.”

“Tyson’s here. Let me see if I can find him. I want him to hear your concerns.”

Now we’re getting somewhere, Scott thought. We’ll see where this goes.

Erickson turned and walked back toward the smoldering building. In a moment he returned with a heavy-set man in glasses.

“What the hell kind of shit are you slinging here?” Tyson asked.

Scott repeated what she had told Erickson. Tyson looked so red in the face, Scott thought he might explode.

“Who are these people? I want to talk with them. Bunch of liars.”

“They came here yesterday. Apparently, one of your staff, I think the chief nurse, briefed them during the tour. When they arrived at the memory unit, the door was blocked.”

Scott took a deep breath. “They pushed the door open and saw people strapped to their beds. Not much of a way to treat patients.”

Tyson seemed to back down a little. “Sometimes, we have to contain memory unit patients for their own safety.”

“Strap them into beds? If patients are strapped down and something happens, like a fire, they could die. You think that’s acceptable?”

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Tyson didn’t respond.

Scott felt this was going better than she had thought. “When can I get some answers? I’m going to the press if I don’t get satisfaction. I still haven’t heard from my cousin. If you’ve tied her to her bed, your bank account is going through the floor.”

Tyson put his hand on his forehead. “Look, I arrived here myself from Minneapolis about an hour ago. I need a little time to find out the real story.”

“When can I talk to this chief nurse?”

Tyson started to turn back toward the center. “Please, let me check.”

“You’ve got a half-hour, then I’m going to the press.

Meanwhile, I’m going to call my mom. If she isn’t willing to wait, then you’re out of luck.”

“Just hold her off for as long as you can.”

Scott turned around and started to walk away. “We’ll see.”

Not a bad a result. She needed to hurry back and brief the group. ***** Garcia had been following the Mercedes for about twenty minutes. The driver had headed northeast out of the city on the Baltimore-Washington Parkway, then past the 495 beltway. So far, they hadn’t spotted her.

She racked her brain as to what might be here to attract them and came up empty. Then she spotted their right turn blinker and it hit her. Fort Meade, home to the National Security Agency.

These guys were engineering an intelligence program and where better place to start than the NSA. She pulled over to the side of the road and called Steele. His secretary put him on immediately.

“Sir, at their meeting this morning, an Oriental man appeared to be leading the discussion, and Agent Wright was also there.

When Benson saw me, he asked me to leave as this was a special meeting requiring a clearance. He did put a desk in one of the conference rooms downstairs for me, so I do have staying power.”

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“Be careful. Don’t get caught by O’Leary. I’ll call the duty officer and tell him I need the names of those who recently checked in. Also, I need to find out who they’re planning to see.

Will be critical to our investigation.”

“Sir, my plan is to follow O’Leary when he leaves the meeting.

That may lead us to where they’re working. I’m going to call Harper and see if he can help me. It’s going to be difficult to follow these guys a long distance on a motorcycle.”

Steele paused for a moment. “Agree. But I repeat, be careful.

I think we’re getting close and as soon as they figure it out, they may get desperate.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll be careful. Agent Harper will be a big help.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I find out who is with O’Leary. That may help us figure what they’re up to.”

“Sounds good, sir.”

175

32 Brainerd, MN, Sunday, Noon Scott briefed the group on her conversation with Tyson and the sheriff. “The sheriff ’s a pretty good guy. Seems trustworthy.

Tyson’s another case. I wouldn’t trust the clown as far as I could throw him which — judging from his size — wouldn’t be very far.”

Zack nodded. “I only talked to Tyson once, admittedly right after a sniper shot his wife. He’s a guy with a short fuse who may be in over his head. I think Early’s the brains of the operation, while Tyson seems to stumble along. Not sure why Early brought him in as a partner. He may be the money guy.”

Scott checked her watch. “Okay, time for me to start questioning what’s going on again.”

Roger Kelly stepped forward. “I think it may be time for Fairchild and me to enter the discussion if you find the chief nurse. We were inside and can back you up if she tries to ignore what we saw.”

Scott thought for a moment. “Might work, but I’d like to spend a few minutes with her first. Then bring you two in if need be.”

Fairchild nodded. “Sounds good.”

Scott headed back to the command post. When she arrived, she caught the sheriff ’s attention. “Can you find the chief nurse for me? I’m having problems holding back my mom from talking to the press.”

He pointed. “That’s her. She’ll be here shortly.”

Not being the patient type, Scott walked over to the woman the sheriff had pointed out. “I understand you’re the chief nurse of the center. I’d like to talk with you for a couple of minutes.”

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She glanced up, then back at papers in her hand. “So would a lot of people. Right now, I’m swamped. The firemen are only now getting the blaze under control. We’re trying to get a count and make sure all the patients are accounted for and in safe locations.”

“I understand, but I talked to the sheriff a few minutes ago.”

The nurse’s eyes widened. “So you’re the police officer who’s heard rumors about our center.”

Scott pulled out her badge. “Yes, I’m the police officer, but I don’t think those are rumors. I have friends who actually saw patients tied down on the memory ward. Friends whose word I trust.”

Her lips tightened. “Are those the two who pretended to be looking for a place for a father with dementia while I escorted them around the center as a favor?”

“I don’t think your comments make any difference. They saw what they saw.”

As Scott waited for a response, another woman walked over and motioned for the chief nurse to move. “Why don’t you go back to work and I’ll handle this.”

The nurse nodded and walked across the street to the area where staff brought patients for a count and to check on their condition.

Scott glanced across the street, then up at the woman who had just joined her. “What’s your name and what do you do here?”

“My name is Margie Bryant. I’m the chief nurse of the center.

We’re home-based in Minneapolis, but I drive up here when there’s a problem and this definitely is a problem. I arrived in Brainerd about an hour ago.”

Scott thought for a moment to determine the best way to attack the issue with this woman. “Look, I know you’ve got a tough thing on your plate, but you must understand I have a relative who’s here and my mom wants to find out what’s going on.”

“To be honest, I’m not completely sure what happened. All I know is we had a bad fire. We’ve reported four patients have died.”

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Scott’s morale fell. “Do you know the names of any patients?”

Zack would be heartbroken if one was this Maxine.

“I can’t share any names at this time. Please give me more time to determine what’s going on. I will get back to you. I promise.”

“Okay, a couple of hours maybe. Then I’ll go public if I’m not satisfied with what you tell me. I will not go public with those names under any circumstances.”

Bryant stared at Scott. “If you lie to me, I’ll hang you out to dry.”

Scott raised her hand, “Scouts honor.” She walked back to the rest of the group. “The lady I talked with is the chief nurse at the center in Minneapolis. She has supervisory responsibility for this facility and two or three others. She promised to give me the names of the patients who have died. I told her I would not divulge those names to anyone.”

“What’s her name?” Zack asked “Margie Bryant.”

Zack glanced off for a moment. “Where have I’ve heard that name before?”

Roger looked at Zack. “Son, I can tell you where. She’s the significant other of Bonnie Swenson.”

Zack was thunderstruck. “Do you know what that means?

Bonnie may have told Bryant what she heard about me placing someone in the center. That could have helped blow Max’s cover.”

Roger put his hand on his son’s arm. “I’m afraid I do.”

Fairchild frowned. “I think you two need to talk with Bonnie again. See what her story really is.”

Zack’s lip tightened. “Right away.”

“Let’s go.” ***** Garcia waited about fifty yards from the gate to the NSA complex so as not to draw attention to herself. She sat on her cycle, walked around, stretched several times, then waited some more. Hated to wait.

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Admiral Steele’s secretary called, “I talked to the guard commander at the gate. He said you could park your bike by the gate and they would keep an eye on it for you.”

“Great. I don’t want to leave it unattended.” She rode her bike over to the gate, talked to the MPs, locked it up, and walked back a hundred feet from the gate to wait for Harper.

About an hour later, Harper pulled up in a Toyota Highlander to where she stood. She gave him a thumbs up.

Harper stepped out of his car. “Sorry it took me some time, but I had to clear up a few things. What’s the status here?”

Garcia told him what had happened so far. “When we reached the beltway, I tried to figure out where they were headed.

Nothing made sense until they pulled into the complex. Then I knew.”

“If they want to utilize some sort of artificial intelligence program, what better outfit to pull in than NSA?” “It’s sobering to know they have contacts in all these key places,” Garcia said. “I mean these agencies are supposed to work for the government, not some presidential candidate. Be prepared to develop teams we can depend on if we have an emergency.

Now I agree with Admiral Steele. Who can we trust?”

“Scary, isn’t it?”

Garcia nodded. “CIA Agent Wright is with the group. He attended the meeting I stumbled in on at the campaign offices.”

Harper’s eyes widened. “Agent Samuel Wright was at the campaign offices this morning? That’s the second time he’s been in the middle of the action.”

“Exactly right. When I talked to Admiral Steele, he said he’d get the names of those in the car from the MPs at the gate. That way, we’ll know if anyone stayed here or was added.”

“If Wright goes with them, then what do we conclude? Is he just a pissed off agent, or is he working for someone officially at the CIA?” “This should help us prove the CIA is involved in the plot.”

Harper headed back to his car. “Oh, man, this whole mess is giving me a headache.”

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It took another hour before the Mercedes pulled up to the inside portion of the gate. The MPs, as requested, took a few extra minutes before releasing the Mercedes to pass through the gate.

By that time, Harper and Garcia were sitting in the Toyota with the motor running. Ready to go.

The Mercedes flowed past them and they fell in line behind it, maybe a hundred meters back. The Mercedes had on its right turn signal and turned to head north.

“Hang on,” Harper said. “Here we go.”

Garcia laughed. “May the force be with us.”

Neither said a word as they followed the Mercedes north on the Baltimore/Washington Parkway. When they reached the beltway around Baltimore, the Mercedes turned north toward Towson, Maryland.

“I’m glad there’s not more traffic on the beltway. Just enough so we can hang back, but not so much we can’t keep up.”

They passed the exit for Interstate 70 west, but the Mercedes stayed on the beltway. “I thought they might head west,” Garcia said, “but I guess that’s not to be.”

They soon reached Interstate 83 south into Baltimore with the sign for the ballpark. Harper murmured under his breath.

“Wish we were headed to a ball game.”

“Amen to that,” Garcia replied, “but we keep on trucking.”

When they reached the Interstate 83 north exit, Garcia spotted the blinker. “Okay, they’re taking the exit. Looks like we’re headed into Pennsylvania.”

Harper continued to follow them north on Interstate 83. “I wonder what’s in Pennsylvania. Guess we’ll find out. There’s the sign for the Welcome Center.”

“Not too far to York,” Garcia said. “Have you ever been there?”

“Only on business,” Harper said. “I had to investigate a kidnapping and murder of a whole family. Terrible time.”

Garcia nodded. “I hate those.”

About two miles before they reached the city of York, Garcia saw the right blinker again. “Looks like we’re going onto highway 30 east.”

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“Only about thirty miles till we reach Lancaster,” Harper said.

“Nice place. My wife grew up east of Lancaster, close to Philly and we get back to this area every once in a while.”

Twenty minutes later, they reached the bridge over the Susquehanna River. Garcia called, “Looks like they’re getting ready to turn right again.”

They turned onto Route 441 (South) and circled the small borough of Columbia. The Mercedes traveled only a couple of blocks until they turned left on Walnut, headed into town.

“I hope they get out and take a break,” Garcia said, “If the ice cream shop on the corner we just passed was still open, what a great stop. I’m tired of being in the car and need to check out the john.”

“Just be glad you’re not on your motorcycle.”

“I do love to ride, but tonight I’m happy to be in your car.

Thanks. Oops, here we go again.”

Turning right on Third Street, they pulled into a large parking lot and stopped. After a couple of minutes, Garcia spotted O’Leary’s group getting out and walking across the lot into a restaurant named Hinkles.

Harper glanced at Garcia. “There’s five of them. Someone must have been added at NSA.” “Right,” Garcia replied. “When they left DC, they had O’Leary, Wright, the Chinese prof, and a driver. If they added someone at NSA, it probably means some section at NSA is involved in the plot.”

“One of them must know their way around this area,” Harper said. “Definitely a local place. I think we must be close to where their computer operations center is located.”

Garcia stretched. “I’m hungrier than a bear coming out of hibernation, but I don’t dare go inside. O’Leary will recognize me. We can’t afford to let it happen.”

“How about if I go in and do a recon?”

“Okay. Maybe a burger, fries, and coffee. Lots of coffee.

Maybe I can get into the bathroom and back out again without him seeing me.”

Harper saluted. “Got my mission. Ready to implement.”

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Garcia waited out in the Toyota, hoping Harper would be able to hurry.

In a few minutes he returned. “I think you’re clear. They’re sitting in the back, so as long as O’Leary doesn’t get up, you’re gonna be okay. I can stand as a roadblock and alert you if he’s headed your way.”

Garcia laughed. “You’re big enough to make one heck of a roadblock.”

She followed him in, and he pointed to the ladies room.

“Thanks. Be out in a minute.”

About fifteen minutes later, Harper returned to the car carrying two white boxes with his left hand and balancing two cups in a cup holder with his right. Garcia jumped out of their car and helped him bring the treasures inside. “Oh, man, food.

Thanks.”

She opened one of the boxes and dug into a thick burger with a large bag of fries next to it. Even better, black coffee.

She patted him on the shoulder. “Harper, you’re a genius.

Keep this up and you’ll make a wonderful waiter one of these days.”

They took turns keeping watch. About an hour later, the five walked out and returned to the Mercedes. Garcia heard the motor start. Harper had placed himself across the street, positioning the car so he could head in any direction.

The Mercedes pulled out and turned right at the next block.

Harper waited a few minutes, then followed. Another left turn and they were back moving south along the Susquehanna River.

“Better be careful,” Garcia said. “Gonna be tough to hide with no traffic out here.”

Soon the road and trees opened enough so they could spot the lights of the Mercedes ahead. The timing turned out to be perfect as the Mercedes turned left onto another rural highway at Manor Township and headed up a sharp hill.

Harper slowed down. “We gotta be close to their destination.

I sure don’t want them to spot our car now.”

Garcia pulled the small binoculars out of her backpack and looked over the landscape ahead. “Quite a few hills.”

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She checked the map. “We’ll be pulling into the town of Millersville in about five miles. Looks like a university town. You don’t suppose they’re using the school to set up electronics, do you?”

“Don’t know, but they could be.”

They reached the outskirts of Millersville, looked sound then realized they had lost the Mercedes.

Garcia checked the map again. “We can’t have missed the Mercedes by much. Only a short distance back to the river.

“What say we double back. They gotta have turned off in the past three miles. Not many roads. Shouldn’t be too hard to find where they turned.”

At Garcia’s direction, Harper turned right at the first road.

Garcia leaned forward and watched for the Mercedes. After a mile or so, she said, “Don’t think this is right.”

Harper turned around and drove back to the main road, then turned right again. When they reached Central Manor Road, Garcia called out, “Turn here.”

In about a mile, they spotted the Mercedes parked next to a farmhouse. A large barn stood about one hundred feet back from the farmhouse.

“Whew,” Harper said, “I was afraid we might have lost them.”

After a half-mile, he pulled off to the side of the road and took a sip of coffee. “Let’s drive back to the main road and check in with Admiral Steele. I doubt they’ll be going anywhere for a while and we’re sitting ducks here. If they happen to leave right away on the main road, we can still follow them.”

Garcia kept looking at the map, then took another sip of her coffee. “I’m hoping the admiral can get a drone to check out the location from the air. It would be lucky if we could find a place to hide the car.”

Harper found a spot a short distance down the road to turn around. Passing the farmhouse slowly, they both watched. All quiet.

“We need to sneak up on the house after it’s completely dark,” Garcia said. “Give us a chance to look inside the barn.”

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“I bet they have a ton of electronics stashed there. It’s probably equipped as a communications site. We’ll have to be careful as they may have all sorts of security.”

Garcia rubbed her chin. “Possible, but for some reason, I don’t think so. Such a remote site. Don’t believe they will recognize much of a threat.”

Harper thought a moment. “Guess we’ll find out.”

184

33 Minneapolis, Sunday, 6:00 p.m.

A little more than two hours after they had left Brainerd, Zack and his dad arrived back in Minneapolis, Zack unable to believe what Bonnie might have done. He had trusted her. His dad had tried to help her.

“Look, Zack,” Roger said, “I know you’re upset, but I think we’ll do better if we think this thing through and come up with a reasonable course of action. We need a plan and maybe some options. We don’t want to mess up our chances of finding Max safely.”

Zack stared out the car window. He took a deep breath.

“You’re absolutely right. Thank you. I’m too close to the problem.

What do you suggest we do?”

“I’d like to drive to her condo and talk with her. Tell her what we found out in Brainerd. She may not even know about the fire.”

“Okay, sounds good so far.”

“I’ll tell her we met with the chief nurse, a Margie Bryant. I don’t think she knows I realize the connection. See what she says.

If it makes sense, I’ll call you in. If not, we need to figure our next step.”

“You’ve got a good idea on how to play this. But, unless I miss my guess, she’s played me and everyone else for fools.”

“There’s a lot going on here we don’t understand. If she’s in with this Margie Bryant and Bryant is working with Early, Bonnie may even be involved in Debbie’s disappearance and who knows what else.”

Zack looked at his dad, then outside. “Okay, I’ll wait here.

Call me in when you think I can help.”

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***** Forty-five minutes later, Roger and Zack arrived at Bonnie’s condo. They stopped about four buildings down the block from where she lived.

Roger got out and walked down the street. When he reached the door, he knocked. Not hearing anything, he knocked again, getting a little uneasy she might have run off.

In a moment, he heard footsteps. The knob turned and there stood Bonnie. “Hi, Mr. Kelly, please come in. I’ve been following the fire at the center in Brainerd on the news. It’s terrible.”

Roger stepped inside. The condo was tastefully decorated with modern furniture, all of which looked expensive. There were a number of assorted paintings on the walls He wasn’t into art, but they looked expensive.

Bonnie motioned with her hand. “Come into the living room.

Can I get you something to drink? Maybe something to eat?”

“Coffee if you’ve got it, if not water would be great.”

“I do have some coffee. I’ll be right back.”

When she stepped out, Roger took the opportunity to look around. He was impressed with the decorations and the furniture. Unless he was wrong, Bonnie had spent a bundle on the furnishings. He suspected the rest of the house was equally expensively decorated.

“You have some beautiful things here, Bonnie.”

“Thank you. When my father died, I was lucky to receive a nice inheritance. My mother is well cared for in the senior center, so I used some of the funds to fix up the condo. It helped me get started, and I grew it from there.”

Roger decided to give her a nudge. “I guess it must have made it easier for you that you didn’t have to share the money with anyone else.”

She stared at him. “What do you mean by that?”

Another nudge. See how she responds. “Oh, nothing. If your sister had lived, you would have had to split the inheritance with her.”

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She looked as if she was going to follow up, then must have decided to drop it. “Now, what can I do for you. To be honest, I’m pretty busy.”

“Just a few loose ends. As I mentioned on the phone, Agent Fairchild and I spent a day in Brainerd. We had the opportunity to tour the senior center. After we finished our tour of the center, we drove out and visited Early’s lake place. Have you been there?”

Her eyes widened and she seemed taken back by his comment.

“I, ah, I’m surprised Jake let you go see his cabin.”

“Well. It certainly is more than a cabin. It’s a beautiful lake home. Very expensive and right on the lake. It must have cost a small fortune to build and upgrade the house with so much lakefront.”

“Jake has done well with the four senior centers, so I’m not surprised he has a nice home there.”

Roger decided to move in a little more on her. “I was with Zack when he met the chief nurse. He seemed surprised and upset when she told him her name. I believe it was Margie Bryant.”

Bonnie took a deep breath as she sipped her coffee. “I probably should have told him the person I’m living with works in a key position at the center. I didn’t realize right away he had concerns about the center, and by the time I did, I didn’t know how to tell him.”

“Are you aware the person who Zack asked to help him get information has disappeared. He’s afraid Jake may have realized the conflict and one of his thugs has done something with her.

Maybe even killed her in the fire.”

“Jake would never do that.”

“Someone shot and killed an innocent woman four days ago.

And someone probably kidnapped and killed your sister. We are dealing with a group of people who will stop at nothing to keep their secret.”

“You can’t believe I would have anything to do with any of that.”

“To be honest, I’m not sure what I believe. It seems you may be involved with people at the center who are killing people.

Your sister has been missing for years and presumed murdered.

What should I believe?”

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“I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Roger stood. “All right, Bonnie, or whatever your name is.

I’ll leave, but I’m tracking what’s going on. If I find you’re in the middle of anything illegal, I’ll be back.” ***** Garcia contacted Admiral Steele and told him what they had found. She urged him to let her check out the barn and maybe the house. “I’m worried if we wait too long, the group might be able to hide everything they’re doing.”

“What do you recommend?” Steele asked.

“Sir, we know for sure Michael O’Leary is in there along with a man we believe to be a Chinese professor. Agent Wright is from the CIA and also with the group. You probably remember Harper met with him at the house where someone stole the classified material on elections.”

She paused for a moment. “There could be a number of the people who have been kidnapped inside the barn. O’Leary may realize we’re getting close and he can’t leave any witnesses.”

“Okay, you may be right,” Steele said.

“I’d like to drive around to the back and come in by the barn.

Our map shows a road, probably not more than a dirt lane. We could sneak up on the barn and check the inside after dark.

It might be completely empty although I doubt it. If there are prisoners inside the barn, one could even be Max.” “I believe Max could still be in Minnesota,” Steele said.

“That’s probably true,” Garcia replied, “but this group has shown the ability to move people around the country quickly.”

“What about Harper?” Steele said.

“I’m here, Admiral. I agree with Garcia’s approach. We can be in communication with each other via cell phones. I’ll stay behind a little and back her up. If things get too hot, we can make a run for it and get the hell out of Dodge.”

“Okay,” Steele said. “I don’t like it, but I can’t come up with a better idea. Be careful, both of you. I don’t need to tell you they won’t hesitate to kill you.”

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She knew O’Leary would love to catch her and kill her. “I agree with everything you say, Sir. We don’t have to stay long.

But now it’s getting dark, so I believe we have the best chance to check it out without being spotted.”

“Keep me informed.”

“Yes, sir.” Garcia disconnected, then turned to Harper. “I’ve been staring at this map. It’s not great, but looks as if there’s a dirt road on the backside of the barn about a half-mile away.”

“Let’s take a look,” Harper said. “We don’t want to be in any hurry. Make sure what we’re getting ourselves into.”

“I’m with you. Let’s get moving.”

189

34 Minneapolis, Sunday, 9:15 p.m.

Believing they had successfully spooked Bonnie, Zack and his dad waited in their car down the block from her condo.

“If she’s got something to hide, she’ll run,” Roger said. “If not, she”ll probably stay inside and be pissed off. We don’t trust her.”

Zack thought about what his dad had said. “You’re right on.

Simple, but effective. How long do you think we should wait?”

“As long as it takes.”

Zack leaned back and stretched. Another piece of simple logic from his dad. “Okay.”

Roger looked down at his watch. “Shouldn’t be long.”

Zack’s eyes widened. “Uh oh, look, the garage door’s opening.”

“She acted scared when I talked with her. Gonna be interesting to see where she runs. Any bets?”

“My money’s on Early and the center.”

“Makes sense. If Bryant was still in town, she’d probably run over to talk with her.”

“Can’t disagree.”

Bonnie backed out of the garage and sped away, the car fishtailing as she drove off.

Roger started the car and, putting it in low gear, moved off slowly and quietly. No lights. “If you see a cop, let me know right away so I can switch the headlights on.”

“Do you see her tail lights up there?”

Roger nodded. “Guess it’s safe to turn my lights on now. Don’t want to plow into some poor soul. That won’t benefit anyone.”

It took Bonnie twenty-nine minutes by Zack’s watch to reach Early’s office at the center.

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“Think he’s there?” Zack asked his dad.

“Where else would he be?”

“Good point.”

Roger pulled over and they both watched Bonnie park and run inside the center. “Man, she is running. She’s panicked.”

“What say we go inside and see what my old high school friends are up to.

“Give it fifteen minutes.”

After waiting, Zack and his dad stepped out of the rental and approached the front door of the senior center.

Zack had no idea how they would be received. “I don’t believe Jake will attack us, but then I’m not sure. Like you said earlier about Bonnie, depends on what he has to hide.”

He turned to his dad. “Got your pistol?”

Roger adjusted his holster. “Is the Pope a Catholic? I haven’t left it home since this whole mess started.”

The front door stood ajar, but a gray-haired security guard sat at the reception desk. Zack walked up to the desk. “We’re here to see Jake Early.”

“It’s late,” the guard replied. “Does he know you’re coming?”

“I’m sure he does,” Zack replied. “We’ll walk to his office.”

“Wait…,” the guard called.

Zack kept walking. This meeting was long overdue.

When he reached Early’s office, the door stood slightly ajar.

He heard voices. Zack pushed the door open. Early looked up from his chair. “Zack, I thought you might be coming to see me.”

Bonnie watched Zack, mouth hanging open. “What are you doing here?”

“A good question,” Zack replied. “To be honest, I’m trying to figure out what’s going on?”

Early motioned with his hand. “Pull up a chair and let’s talk.

Coffee?”

Zack checked with his dad, who nodded. “Sounds good.” He watched carefully as Early poured the coffee, to make sure he didn’t put anything in it.”

After taking a sip, he said. “Jake, how about you telling us what this is about it all. It all started with a sniper killing Jean.

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She wanted to tell me something about the center right before she died.”

He paused. “I wasn’t going to say anything to you, but I’m sure Bonnie has shared everything with you that I told her.”

Jake watched Zack, started to say something, then stopped.

Zack’s expression turned serious. He needed to push her a little. “I’m not sure what’s happened to you, Bonne. I thought I knew you, but guess I was mistaken.”

Her face turned taunt and her gaze fixed. “Who the hell do you think you are? Mr. Perfect? Mr. High and Mighty? You left twenty years ago and return back here, Mr. Big Deal. Gonna save the world?”

She crossed her arms. “Well, it would have been nice if you had stayed and worked through all the crap with me. Then maybe you could be Mr. High and Mighty.”

Zack felt his pulse quicken when an idea hit him. Why hadn’t he thought about it earlier? “I should have spotted it. The little differences. Voice. Mannerisms. Voice inflection. I must have been blinded by the blond hair. I always loved your blue eyes and long blond hair.”

Her hand went to her mouth, and she reached up and touched her hair.

“But something’s different. I don’t suppose you’d be willing to show me the heart tattoo on your butt. You probably can’t because Debbie doesn’t have a tattoo on her butt, does she?”

Her mouth dropped open again. “You’re lying. Bonnie didn’t have a tattoo...”

Zack hesitated, then nodded. “That’s right, Bonnie didn’t have a tattoo on her butt, but you don’t either. All right, what happened to Bonnie? Did she find out what you were planning?

Going to rat you out?”

Zack shot his attention toward Early, who pointed a Glock at him. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Pretty smart, Zack. ‘Course, you were always street smart.”

Before Zack could move, Debbie screamed. “This could have been so different if you had stayed, rather than running off.

Bonnie might have seen things differently.”

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Her comment surprised Zack. “What are you talking about?

Bonnie was headed to school on the east coast. Smith, I believe.

Where your mother had gone.”

Debbie went ballistic. “You are so stupid. She wanted you to stay. Wanted you to help her fight Dad.” Debbie’s comment sent an arrow into Zack’s heart. “No. That’s not what she told me. Wanted to head east. Get away from your folks. She felt smothered by your father.”

Debbie sagged, weeping. Struggled to talk. “When you left, she looked around at everything. Talked to me about heading west. Find something new. At the time I dated Jake and couldn’t see leaving. Bonnie bummed around, finally getting into drugs.”

Zack’s body trembled in a stage of disbelief. Remembered.

Had Bonnie wanted him to stay in Minneapolis? He didn’t believe Debbie.

Debbie bobbed her head, shaking, crying. “My beautiful twin sister, OD’d on heroin. I reached her too late. The news would have killed Dad and Mother. They would have never understood why she had taken drugs.”

Zack stared at her. In complete shock.

“We had to do something. Do you hear me? We had to do something. We transported her body to Jake’s cabin and buried her in the woods.” Her gaze bore into Zack. “Why did you leave?”

Zack shook his head. Then he thought, could she be right?

He slumped down in a chair. “No. I knew Bonnie better than anyone. She wanted a new start at a new school, in a town away from your folks.”

“Yeah. You knew her better than her twin sister. I don’t think so.”

Zack sat there in shock. Then he remembered Early and his gun. Turned to look at him. “What’s the deal, Jake? Are you going to kill us?”

Roger coughed, causing Jake to glance at him. “Checkmate. I suggest you put your gun down as I have one under this magazine pointed right at your nuts. I will make sure you never have any more kids.”

Early hesitated, then nodded. “What say we both put down our guns.” He placed his Glock on the floor.

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“Great idea,” Roger said, “but we’re on your home court. By the way, where’s O’Leary? He’s the wild card I keep looking for.”

“To be honest, I don’t know, but I suspect not far away.”

“You’re right.” O’Leary stood at the door with a pistol pointed at Roger. “Better put your gun down, old man. I’m not in a hurry to kill anyone, but I’m certainly more than happy to put a hole in your head.”

Roger shrugged, putting his Glock on the floor. “What do you mean, old man? I don’t see any old men around here.”

O’Leary laughed. “Maybe not, but if you don’t do what I tell you, you sure as hell aren’t going to get any older.”

194

35 Mountville, PA, Sunday, 11:30 p.m.

Garcia stood next to Harper’s car, letting her night vision adjust. Fortunately, a dark night, only a quarter moon, with clouds moving overhead. Wished she had a pair of night-vision goggles.

Harper straightened. “We gotta watch out for security cameras around the property. The clowns could spot you coming and have a welcoming committee waiting.”

Garcia raised an eyebrow. “Wow, you’re tall.”

Harper had to chuckle despite the stress. “Yep. Just the way I was issued.”

“I agree with what you say, but we need to find out what’s here and we need to do it now. During the day, we’d need some pretense for coming onto the property. I don’t see any fences, at least not at this distance. If it doesn’t look good, we’ll abort.”

Harper had to chuckle again. “When’s the last time you aborted a mission because of security?”

Garcia shrugged her shoulders. “Point taken. I’ll text what’s going on. If we lose contact, call the cops.”

“Let me get the wire cutter and bolt cutter out of the car in case we need them. You lead. I’ll follow at a safe distance.”

They started out across the open field, the dry grass crinkling as they walked. After the first quarter-mile, they ran into a fence.

“Doesn’t look wired for electricity or sensors,” Garcia said.

“Can we be so lucky?”

Harper pulled the wire cutters from the pocket of his jacket and cut the wire in a couple of places. “I think we’re okay.”

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Garcia climbed through the hole and motioned forward.

“Let’s keep moving. It’s eleven forty-five so it took us a little under thirty minutes. Not too bad for night.”

They slowed their walk to hold down noise. Garcia could make out the barn in the distance, outlined by the night sky.

She stopped and whispered. “Only a couple hundred feet to the barn. From what I remember, the house stood about fifty yards in front of the barn. We need be extra quiet from here on.”

Harper nodded.

In about fifteen minutes, they reached the barn. Garcia didn’t see or hear anything other than normal night sounds.

She tapped Harper on the arm. Pointed around the barn.

He nodded.

She stepped quietly around the barn to reach the main door.

Pushed on the door. She whispered, “Locked.”

Harper pulled the bolt cutter out of his jacket and attempted to cut the lock. “Lock’s too big.”

Garcia crept to the other side of the barn, saw one other door.

Listened. Checked the other door. “Locked.”

She pointed toward the house, whispered, “Gonna get closer.”

In a moment, she noticed the Mercedes had left. Nudged Harper.

“Car’s gone.”

“Probably left when we were driving around to the other side. Maybe headed back to DC?” “Makes sense. Actually makes it easier for us to look around without having O’Leary to worry about.”

She checked a back window. Shades drawn, but she was able to peek in through a small slit in the bottom. She let out a breath.

Room was full of computers with a young Oriental man working at one of the keyboards.

Tapping Harper on the shoulder, she pointed. He crawled on his haunches and looked in the window. Slipped back to her.

“What I thought we might see.”

Garcia slipped over to the other back window. Another room.

This one also full of computers with two Oriental men working at terminals. She stepped back and looked up at the roof. Counted six antennas blooming from the roof tiles.

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She whispered to Harper. “I’ll bet this is where the professor has set up his artificial intelligence headquarters.”

Harper moved around to the side of the house. Got down on his belly to look in the basement window. Stood and motioned for Garcia to look.

She peeked in the window. Entire basement full of computers and related electronics. She stood and whispered, “Gotta be a fortune in electronics in this place. Wonder how long it took to set all this up?”

“Not long. A semi and a bunch of busy fingers, the job would go pretty fast.”

They heard a door open and two men walked out talking in an Asian language. Garcia hit the ground, Harper close by.

The men stopped about fifteen feet from where they lay. One lit a cigarette and started to puff on it.

Oh great, Garcia thought, a guy smokes with my nose buried in the damn grass.

The other man lit a cigarette. The two talked to each other, laughing periodically.

Garcia couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. They each had pistols in case they were discovered, but she didn’t want the men to know they’d discovered the network headquarters.

It must have been fifteen minutes, which seemed like fifteen hours before the men crushed their butts and turned to go inside.

The door slammed.

Harper whispered, “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”

“Let’s hit it before anything else happens. There might be a guard who walks around maybe once an hour.”

The two took off across the field at a trot. When she reached Harper’s car, Garcia pulled her cell out of her pocket and pushed in Admiral Steele’s number.

She looked over at Harper as her cell rang. “I could ask the boss to check this building with the NSA, but he’s going to wonder who he can ask. Must be a bitch to not be able to trust the guys you work with every day.”

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Harper nodded. “I’m going to call and ask our guys in Pennsylvania to find out everything they can about the house.

Who owns it? Rents it? Recent upgrades?”

“I suspect we’ll find some cover person.”

She heard a voice on her phone. “Admiral Steele’s office.”

“Colonel Garcia. Is the boss in?”

“He’s expecting your call. One minute please.”

“Steele.”

“Garcia, sir.” She provided a short summary.

“Sounds like you struck the mother lode.”

“Yes, sir. We’re getting ready to head back to DC.” “Give me your GPS coordinates. I’ll have the area checked out with a drone.” ***** Tara Fairchild figured that since Zack and his dad had driven back to Minneapolis to talk with Bonnie, she might as well return to Early’s cabin. Check to see if anything had changed.

Scott planned to stay in Brainerd and watch developments there.

She borrowed a car while Scott talked with the sheriff and drove out to the turn off for the cabin. Moving the car about thirty yards down the road from the turnoff, she got out and locked it. If she remembered right, it was a little over a quartermile up the lane to the house.

Starting up the lane at a slow trot, her muscles protested. She made a promise she’d get back to her regular exercise schedule.

She’d slacked off with all that had been going on. But no more.

Not after today.

It took her about fifteen minutes to trot to the clearing surrounding the house. She spotted a car in the carport next to the garage. New model, maybe a Ford.

Staying near the edge of the forest, she worked her way around to the garage. Stepping from her cover, she checked the hood of the car. Cold. Been sitting there awhile. That’s good.

She moved back and circled the house, staying in the woods.

Saw no one outside standing guard. Didn’t want any surprises.

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When she reached the water’s edge, she ducked down and ran across the open area, then back into the woods. Staying close to the edge of the woods, she circled the rest of the yard. Still no one outside.

She ducked down again and ran up to the back of the house and looked in the window. Kitchen. No one there. Made sense at this time of night.

Moved to the next window. Bedroom. Empty. Didn’t look as if anyone stayed in the room.

Moved to the next room. Only a small table lamp on so difficult to see in the room, but definitely someone in the bed.

She stood on her toes, but still couldn’t make out who it was.

Looked around. Saw a small bench by the picnic table.

Hurried over and picked it up. Brought it back to the window and stood on it.

Definitely a body in the bed and looked to be tied down with straps. Looked like a full head of hair on the body. Certainly could be a woman. Maybe Max. Well, she certainly wasn’t leaving without the woman. Now, how to get it done?

She moved to the front of the house. She remembered the large screened-in porch from her first trip. Tried the porch door.

Open. She tiptoed across the porch to a window and looked inside.

Two guys. One lying on the sofa, sound asleep, the other sitting in a chair watching television and drinking a beer. He looked to be about ninety percent asleep. This would be easy.

Better check the other rooms. No surprises. Hard to believe they could be so slack. But then, Max had been tied down, looked to be sound asleep. The bastards had probably beaten her.

She slipped off the porch and ran to the other side of the house. The windows in the two rooms on that side were both dark, so if there was someone inside the room, they’d probably be asleep.

She paused to plan. Go in the front, and take the two in the living room by surprise. Tie them up. Check the other two rooms. If these rooms were clear, she’d be set.

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What then? Her car was a half-mile away. Long way to carry Max if she couldn’t walk. Get the keys to their car. Those guys probably had them and should keep them pretty available.

Worse case, she’d have to help Max the half-mile. She would if she had to.

Okay. Time to move before anyone else showed up.

She stepped back on the porch and tried the front door.

Open. Just like she thought. These two were probably not the brightest bulbs in the firmament.

She stepped inside, gun drawn. The one guy watching television started to stand. “What...?”

“Sit down unless you want me to blow a hole in your balls.”

She’d found over time, a successful way to stop guys.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the death angel, here to do you in if you should move so much as one muscle. Okay, lay down on the floor.” He stood there looking at her. She fired a shot into his foot.

He screamed. “You shot me.”

“You didn’t do what I said. If you don’t do what I say, I’ll kill you. Simple as that.”

The man dropped to the floor.

The other guy jumped up from the sound of the shot. Rubbing his eyes, he yelled, “What’s going on?”

“Get down on the floor next to your buddy or I’ll blow part of your foot off, too.”

He dropped to the floor.

“All right. Both of you, on your stomachs.” When the first one rolled over, she frisked him for weapons. Pulled a Glock out of his belt. She spotted some rope in the corner. Tied the man who had been sleeping, then moved to the one she had winged.

He still wiggled around from the pain. Fairchild knocked him out with her pistol and tied him up. She ripped up a towel and wrapped his foot, which was still oozing blood.

When the two men were tied, she took an iron from next to the stove and knocked the second man out. There, they should both sleep for a while.

Just to be safe, she checked the loft. Empty. She hurried down the hallway, checking each room as she passed it. Fortunately, 200

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they were all empty except the one where she had seen the woman.

She went into the room where the woman lay tied to the bed.

Her face was bloody and swollen. Dirty bastards. About the same size as Max, but because her face has been so disfigured, it was hard for Fairchild to tell.

She gently loosened the straps around the woman and touched her shoulder. The woman squirmed and pulled back.

“Max, it’s me, Tara Fairchild. I’m here to get you out of this place.”

The woman stared at Fairchild, as if trying to comprehend what was going on. She mumbled, “Fairchild?”

Fairchild nodded. “Help me get you out of here. I’m not sure when the bastards will return.”

Max wiggled around, trying to sit up, but failed.

Fairchild tapped her shoulder. “Wait, let me help you to sit up. Don’t do anything too quickly. I don’t want you to do any more damage.”

The woman struggled to move. Gradually Fairchild lifted her to a sitting position. The woman had lost at least three of her front teeth. Bastards.

Goddamn, she would beat the shit out of the two guys in the living room before she left. But knew she couldn’t. It wasn’t in her to beat guys who were already tied up, but man she was tempted after what they had done.

Now she had to figure how to get the two of them out of there. She went back into the living room and looked through the normal places for keys. Desk, hanging next to the phone, on tables. No luck.

The two in the front room were still out cold. Good. She rolled the one who appeared to be in charge over and checked his pockets. Ah, a set of keys.

Went back into the bedroom. “Max, we need to get you out of here before the others return. Can you walk at all?”

The woman nodded. Fairchild helped her up and placed the woman’s arm over her shoulder. Put her arm around the woman’s waist and together the two began to inch their way forward.

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The woman stumbled along next to her on one leg, not much help, but enough to make it work. Had to get out of there.

They made it out the front door, across the porch, then around to the back. Fairchild unlocked the Ford, opened the door, and helped the woman lay down in the back seat. She hurried around to the front and fired up the engine.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Fairchild pulled onto the dirt lane, then turned left when she reached the hardtop.

Only then did she stop to think, what now? They were headed back into Brainerd. She pulled over to the side of the road and punched in Zack’s number. She heard ringing, then it went to voicemail.

Where the hell was Zack?

She left an urgent message for Zack to call her, then dialed Roger’s number. It too went into voice mail. Damn, they couldn’t both be away from their phone. Something could be wrong. But what? Where were they?

202

36 Washington D.C. Monday, 8:00 a.m.

Harper dropped Garcia off at her apartment. She hustled in to feed her cat. Poor Harold, obviously pissed off at her for leaving him alone for so long. Her neighbor had fed Harold and changed his cat litter, but it wasn’t the same as having someone to hang out with.

Garcia understood as she had been in the same boat much of her life. A loner, Garcia had been burned twice by men so she tended to prefer Harold to some guy. Although there might be some light at the end of the tunnel with the man she had met a few months ago. She hoped so.

Dropping onto her bed, she fell asleep instantly.

After a couple of hours of sleep, the best she could spare from her job, a shower, and new outfit, she was ready to head in to work. She spent a precious fifteen minutes with Harold and had to just turn her back and walk out because she couldn’t bear to see Harold’s dirty look.

Driving into DC on her motorcycle at 11:00 in the morning was one heck of a lot better than having to do it at early morning rush hour. Traffic was still congested, but nothing like seven o’clock.

Her mind raced, trying to sort out what to do when she reached work.

Admiral Steele had told her he would have a drone overfly the site in Pennsylvania. Harper planned to check the history on the farm. She hoped the information would shed some light on the owners, and she needed to follow up with them right away.

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She pulled into a parking spot, locked her bike and managed to reach her desk by noon. She scanned a few of the emails to see if she had missed anything critical. Nothing so far, so she walked over to Benson’s office.

She kept her eye out for O’Leary. He wouldn’t forget being embarrassed in front of Benson and would plot to get even.

What form it would it take and when he’d spring it, well, she had to be ready.

Benson sat in his office talking to a reporter from the Washington Post. She stuck her head in. “Hey, boss, just checking in to let you know I’m here if you need me.”

“Thanks,” Benson said. “Why don’t you come up in an hour?

I wanted to talk over a few things with you.”

“Will do.” Garcia waved and wandered down the hall. Now, what does he have for her to do? Had to anticipate his actions.

Had to be ready for almost anything.

She left messages for both Steele and Harper, then hurried to Benson’s office. Knocked on the closed door. When she heard his voice, she opened it and walked in.

He sat behind his desk, stacked high with papers as always.

Motioning for her to take a seat, she sat and waited.

Couldn’t help but worry if he had figured out her undercover role or if O’Leary had blown the whistle on her? She hoped not.

Benson continued to look out his one window. After a few minutes, he turned back to her. “I’m trying to figure out the best way to use you.”

Garcia waited. Uh, oh, here it comes.

He smiled as if he had just come up with the world’s best decision. “I’d like you to travel with General Farmington. You can help by advising him on the minority issues he needs to address.”

Garcia tried to hide her surprise, but must have failed.

He laughed at her expression. “Plus, with your demonstrated karate skills, you could run security for him if someone gives him a bad time.”

Did she hear right? She was going to start traveling with Farmington?

“I was impressed with your ability to keep O’Leary in line.

He’s a big help to us, but sometimes a bit overbearing.”

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No shit, she thought, O’Leary too much? Damn killer.

She found her voice. “What exactly do you see me doing?”

“Help him with his speeches. Sometimes he comes on too strong and we can’t afford to have him turn off any middle of the road voters. We need all the voters we can get if we’re going to win.”

“What’s his upcoming travel schedule?”

“Gonna get busy in a few days. Right now he’s on the east coast. That’ll change soon.”

Garcia figured she wouldn’t be in her undercover position much longer, but the way it was going, who knew. Anyway, this is what the admiral wanted her to do. “When do I start?”

A deep voice behind her startled her. “You can start right now.”

She turned to see General Farmington standing behind her.

A tall, distinguished man with short gray hair, broad shoulders, and soldier-straight posture.

Garcia stood. “General, I didn’t hear you come in.”

Farmington motioned toward a chair. “Sit down, please.”

Garcia sat as the general dropped down in the chair next to her. “Man, am I tired. Tough to keep firing up the troops.”

“Frederick, can I get you coffee?” Benson asked.

The general shook his head. “I don’t have much time.” He turned to Garcia. “Benson tells me good things about you and as I always do, I like to check things out for myself.”

Garcia took a deep breath to settle herself. “Yes sir, what would you like to know?”

“Start, and I’ll tell you when to stop.”

She told him about growing up in Texas, her father wanting her to stay and get her Ph.D. at the University of Texas, but she wanted to go in the service and had been in almost sixteen years.”

“Okay, enough. Why are you on my campaign?”

Garcia figured a near truth would be better than a complete lie. “I work for Admiral Steele, but have become more and more interested in why we do what we do. I respected your views in the service and thought you got a bad rap when you got bounced.”

She stopped, smiled. “I mean when you resigned.”

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“You’re honest, I like that. I don’t want to hear a bunch of bullshit and unfortunately, in the politics game, that’s what you get most of the time.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I think our country is on the wrong road. The future will be in the Pacific. As you probably know from your history, the Mediterranean Sea was the center of the ancient world.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The last couple of centuries have focused on countries surrounding the Atlantic Ocean, where the battles have been fought.”

Garcia thought for a moment and nodded.

“The future will be in the Pacific. Japan was the power in the Pacific, but now it’s China. China will be on one end of the Pacific, with all of its history, and the US will be on the other side with its power. The only way we can balance China is with our power.”

Garcia thought the guy made some sense. “What do you propose?”

“We’ve been the superpower for years because of our nuclear superiority. Other countries have caught up because of our weakness. We must reassert our power. We must cower the Chinese and the Russians.”

What the hell, she thought. “Are you saying we need to threaten to use our nuclear power?”

“Absolutely. The only way is to bomb countries in the Middle East until they are no longer a threat. Then we might be able to negotiate with the Russians and let them have the damn Middle East. We need to either work out a deal with the Chinese to split up the Pacific, or we need to destroy their capability to threaten us.”

“But sir, they have a strong navy and are competing with us by taking over areas of the Pacific as well as claiming islands.”

“Damn right. We have backed down time and again because of our chicken shit President. If I’m elected, I won’t put up with any of the crap he has. The only thing the Chinese understand is raw power and our politicians are too chicken to show it. That has to stop.”

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Garcia glanced over at Benson, saw him smiling and nodding.

“Do you see why I’m excited to get the general elected. We are pulling out all the stops to make it happen. With the programs we’re putting into effect, we can’t miss winning. Are you on board or not?”

Garcia was almost about to puke with what the general had recommended. These two guys were nuts. She had to get to Admiral Steele to figure a way to stop them.

She stood and turned to shake the general’s hand. “I’m on board, Sir. What can I do?”

General Farmington stood and took her outstretched hand.

“Good to hear. I want more women in my government and you’re just the one to help me get the good ones.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wednesday I’m headed for a four-day southern sweep.

Benson will get a copy of the schedule for you.”

“Okay, on the road it is.”

Farmington turned toward Benson. “How are we doing with the computers? We need to begin using the data for our focus groups.”

“I’ll check with the professor. My understanding is his people are bringing all of the various state systems under our control.”

He turned toward Garcia. “I need to talk about a couple of things with the general.”

Garcia nodded and walked out of his office. Was she ready for this? She’d better be. ***** Zack wiggled around in the back seat of Early’s van, trying to get comfortable, the ropes cutting off the blood supply to his hands. They’d been traveling a couple of hours. “Hey, can you loosen this damn rope.”

O’Leary turned back from the passenger seat of the van.

Laughed. “Be happy I didn’t tie it around your neck.”

Zack leaned forward. “Well, there is that. Can I take it from your comment you’re not likely to loosen the ropes?”

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O’Leary pointed to the back seat with his thumb and said to Early, “Smart guy.”

“How much longer is the trip?” Zack asked.

O’Leary turned back again. “Shut up. You’ll know when we get there.”

Roger wiggled around in his seat. “I don’t think you’re going to get much assistance from these guys.”

Zack felt the van turn to the right and noticed the road becoming rougher, bouncing him around.

Roger leaned over to Zack and whispered, “I bet we’re getting close to the cabin. This feels like the lane to his place.”

Jake Early turned back from the steering wheel. “You’ve been here?”

“You bet,” Roger said. “We were up here yesterday looking around and found some interesting things.”

Early hit the brakes. The van jerked to a stop. “What the hell do you mean? What did you find?”

“We’ve already turned the material over to the FBI. We’ll see what they do with it.”

“Can’t you see this guy is bullshitting you?” O’Leary said.

“When we get to the cabin, we’ll see if he’s lying. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. He’ll tell us the truth.”

It took another couple of minutes until they reached the cabin. Early pulled up and stopped. “Okay, we’re going to let you out. Don’t even think of running off or you’ll get the same treatment as your girlfriend.”

“Wait a minute,” Zack called. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Early looked back. “Who the hell do you think? You put her in my office. Thought you were so damn smart. Well, we caught her. You can blame yourself for everything she got.”

Zack’s heart sunk. They had captured Max and beaten her.

O’Leary pulled open the back door of the van. “All right, everyone out. We’ll see how tough you really are.”

Zack stumbled out, his dad right behind him.

“Get moving,” O’Leary called. “We ain’t got all day.”

Zack had to figure a way to take O’Leary’s wrath and not have it turned on his dad. “O’Leary, you are so fucking brave dealing 208

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with guys who are tied up. Let’s see how tough you’d be in a fair fight.”

Zack felt the bump again on the back of his head, knocking him to his knees. Heard O’Leary say, “Get up, dip shit. Get inside.”

Early led the way. He stepped onto the porch, then opened the front door. Zack heard his scream. “What the hell happened?”

When Zack looked inside, he saw two guys on the floor out cold and tied up. Early ran to the back. “Oh, no, she’s gone.”

Zack’s heart jumped. Had Max gotten away?

Early ran back into the living room. “She’s gone.”

About this time, one of the men on the floor woke up and looked around.

O’Leary grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up. “What happened? You were supposed to watch her. How did you let this happen?”

“Some broad with short blond hair came in with a gun. Got the jump on us.”

Zack had to smile. Fairchild. Bless her.

“Got the jump on my two top guys? Some broad? Are you kidding me?”

“No, Sean. That’s what happened.”

O’Leary stomped to the other side of the room and turned.

He raised his pistol and shot both men in the face. They stumbled and fell to the floor.

“No,” Zack yelled. Couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

O’Leary turned, pointing the gun at Zack. “Maybe now you’ll keep your fucking mouth shut.” Then he laughed. “Remember, if you give me a bad time, your father will pay. If that’s what you want, keep it up.”

“Okay, okay, I got it.” Zack had to stall for time. Look for opportunities to escape.

209

37 Brainerd, Monday, noon Fairchild held on tight to the wheel of the Ford as she drove.

She hadn’t taken the time to transfer Max to the car she had borrowed. Had to get out of there before Early or anyone else returned.

She glanced in the backseat at Max, flat out on the seat, letting out soft moans.

Her first thought was to get Max to the hospital in Brainerd.

Then she worried if somehow Early could find her there.

While she pondered what to do, a van came down the road toward her. She turned away when she spotted Jake Early behind the wheel. Looked like O’Leary sitting next to him in the front seat.

Damn, she had just made it out of there by about fifteen minutes. Otherwise, she would have been caught on the dirt road or worse yet at the cabin itself. Didn’t want to think about that.

She smiled when she thought about O’Leary’s reaction when he found out someone had taken Max and that someone was a dumb broad.

What to do with her new information? Since she couldn’t reach Zack or his dad on their cells, she figured they could be trapped in the back of the van at the mercy of O’Leary.

Scott, she had to get ahold of Scott. She needed help and right away. Pulling over to the side of the highway, she dialed Scott’s number.

Soon she heard, “Scott.”

“Fairchild. Got problems.” She explained what had happened and where she was calling from.

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“You need to get Max to the hospital,” Scott said. “I can arrange for trustworthy guards to protect her. When will you be at the hospital?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. Meet you there.”

When Fairchild reached the hospital, Scott stood at the emergency room entrance with two state police troopers.

She pulled up to the door. Two orderlies wheeled a stretcher out to her car and placed Max on the stretcher. Max looked up at her, tried to say something Fairchild couldn’t hear. Fairchild leaned down, heard, “Thanks.”

Fairchild put her hand on Max’s arm. “All you need to worry about is getting better.”

Max tried to lean forward. Couldn’t. Whispered, “O’Leary animal.”

“We’ll get him. You focus on getting better.”

Once Max was wheeled into the hospital emergency room with the two state police troopers next to her, Fairchild dropped down to a bench in the entrance and took a deep breath.

She looked over at Scott. “On the way back into Brainerd, I passed a white van, Early driving and looked like O’Leary sitting in the front seat. I’m afraid they have Zack and his dad in the back. I haven’t been able to reach either of them on their cells.”

Scott nodded. “I’ve tried to get ahold of them, too. But, nada.”

“Early must be taking them to his cabin.”

“We need to get in there and fast,” Scott said. “I suspect O’Leary is making plans to polish off both of them.”

Fairchild walked over to a coffee machine. Poured herself a cup. “Got my coffee. I’m ready for anything.”

Scott raised her cup. “Wish we could wait until dark, but we can’t. Let’s hit it. First, I think I’ll touch base with the sheriff. Let him know we may need help.” ***** Zack sat in a chair in one of the back bedrooms, his hands and feet tied. He had tried to get loose, but O’Leary knew how 211

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to tie knots. His gaze swept the room, trying to find anything to help him get loose, but he came up with nothing. He worried what they might do to his dad.

The door opened. Bonnie, or was it Debbie, tiptoed into the room. She held her finger up to her lips. Looking back down the hall, she pulled the door shut. “I don’t like what O’Leary’s up to.

Such a monster. I’ve been afraid of him, but no longer. That’s why I drove up here.”

She hurried over to him, knelt down, and cut the rope around his legs. Then the ropes around his hands. “Zack, I’m sorry for everything, but maybe I can help balance things. It was a terrible time and Margie helped me get through Bonnie’s death.”

“I’m sorry about Bonnie,” Zack said.

“I can’t go back and don’t want to,” Debbie said. “We gotta get out of here in order to fix this whole mess.”

“Best to move forward. Where’s O’Leary and Early?”

“Both outside burning paperwork from the center.”

Zack knew what that meant. “Getting rid of incriminating evidence. Where’s my dad?”

“Next room down.”

“Let’s go.”

She nodded and led him down the hallway.

They pushed the door open to see Roger on a chair, tied.

Zack hurried over to him and using the knife Debbie had given him, cut his dad’s ropes. “You okay?”

Roger had trouble talking due to swelling around his mouth and cheeks from O’Leary’s blows. He nodded.

Zack knew he would pay the bastard back, but right now they needed to get a weapon and surprise the two of them. He turned to Debbie. “Do you know if there are any weapons in the house?”

She shook her head.

“We’ll just have to surprise them when they come back in the house. Come on, let’s find some clubs.”

They hurried into the kitchen. Nothing.

Roger came into the room carrying two fireplace tools, both iron. “These should work even on their hard heads.”

Zack gave this dad a thumbs-up. “Good thinking.”

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His dad nodded.

Zack could tell his dad was in a lot of pain, but he carried it well. He looked at Debbie. “Any medicines we can give my dad for pain?”

Roger waved it off.

Zack looked at him. “The army motto. Any damn fool can suffer. Cool guys take care of pain. Debbie?”

She ran to the bathroom. “Be right back.”

Zack’s gaze swept the room. “They should be coming in through the porch door in a few minutes. Looks like the best alternative is to blindside them at the porch door. Get ‘em as they’re coming back into the house.”

He peeked out the back window. The two stood next to the van in the driveway, dumping paper in a trash bucket which had a bright fire.

Zack motioned toward his dad. “Don’t think we can sneak outside and catch them out there.”

“Agree. Too much open ground to cover. They’d see us before we could get to them.”

Debbie came running back to the window. She handed Roger a bottle of Tylenol. “Not great, but the best I can do.”

Roger tried a smile, which failed, but he nodded and took three pills.

Zack pointed at Debbie. You keep an eye out and let us know when they start inside.” He hoped he could trust her.

Zack and his dad found the best spot, one of them on either side of the porch door. Now they waited.

213

38 Washington, D.C. Monday 2:00 p.m.

Garcia sat in her office for a few moments. How could she get the most information? Then it dawned on her. Does the professor speak English? He’s probably the key to getting updates about their plans. Gotta be the perfect place to start.

She hurried out of the conference room door and wandered into other offices looking for the professor. Couldn’t locate him on her floor. She climbed the stairs, watching for O’Leary.

On the second floor, she spotted a room with Asian men sitting around word processors. Right in the middle sat the guy who had been in the car with O’Leary. Bingo.

She walked in and looked around. One of the students walked over and asked her, “May I please help you?”

“Yes, I’m General Farmington’s assistant. I would like to meet with the professor. We will be traveling together with the rest of the group. I thought it would be a good idea if we became acquainted.”

“Yes, I understand. You wait a moment. I ask.”

The guy speaks pretty good English. Here’s hoping the professor does, too. Garcia had to admit her Chinese left a lot to be desired.

The man walked to the desk and waited until the professor called on him. They talked for a moment while Garcia held her breath. She had no idea how Benson would like this idea, but figured she could defend it. If not, well, better to ask forgiveness than permission.

The professor listened and nodded a couple of times. Seemed like a good start, Garcia thought.

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In a moment, the professor stood and looked in Garcia’s direction. He set something on his desk, pushed his chair away and walked in Garcia’s direction.

Garcia held her breath. Okay, here goes.

The professor held out his hand. “Good afternoon. I am Professor Zang Wei. I understand we may be working together.”

“Yes, sir. I am Rene Garcia, an Army Lieutenant Colonel. Mr. Benson has asked me to help in any way I can with the traveling party. I thought it would be a good idea if we became acquainted.”

“It is very nice to meet you. Please call me Zang. Have you been with our team long?”

“Only for a short while. It seems things are becoming busy and Mr. Benson is bringing on additional staff. May I ask your responsibility?”

“Of course. I direct the computer programs.”

Garcia decided to keep pushing to see what she could find out. “Do you have extensive experience with computers?”

“Why, yes. I have taught in the artificial intelligence program at one of our Beijing universities. Mr. Benson asked me to put together a team to develop and implement our computer program.”

Garcia thought about that for a moment. Should she push any farther? Well, what the heck? “I don’t know much about artificial intelligence. Is it possible to explain in easy terms what it is and why it can be helpful?”

“Do you have a background in computer sciences?”

“Not much more than a few elementary courses.”

“It would take me a long time to share with you what we are doing.”

Garcia figured she had pushed too far.

“Perhaps could get together over tea later this afternoon. I’m leading a seminar now, but later, while I’m on break, we talk.”

Garcia wanted to jump up and down and give everyone a high-five, but she said, “That would be nice. Please let me know when you might have time.”

“Maybe around five o’clock.”

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Garcia smiled. “It’s a date.” Then she got embarrassed. “I don’t mean a date, but simply a chance to get together and learn from each other.”

Zang smiled back and offered his hand. “I understand and will see you then.”

Garcia shook his hand and turned to walk out of the room.

She had to develop a list of questions for five o’clock. She could call the admiral, but figured why take any chances? Not when she was so close. ***** Scott watched Fairchild check her Glock to make sure she had extra ammunition. She had asked the sheriff to loan them body armor and she loaded it in the trunk of the car.

Fairchild navigated out of the parking lot. “Okay, you were the last one at the site,” Scott said. “What do you think we should do?”

“I’d say we drive as far as the dirt road, then get out and walk up to the house, each of us on one side of the road. There is some open ground between the tree line and the house, so we’ll need to check things out carefully before we go any further. I did not see any security cameras.”

Scott thought for a moment. “Unfortunately, we can’t wait until dark. We gotta plan on O’Leary doing things rapidly. If he has Zack and his dad, he won’t wait long to get rid of them.”

“I don’t like the way you put it, but your point is taken. We can’t wait.”

Twenty minutes later, Fairchild pulled off the road and hid the car behind a small pile of brush and shut off the engine.

“Okay, let’s go.”

They climbed out of the car, put on the body armor, and began walking down the road. Each stayed close to the opposite side in case O’Leary chose to pull out and drive up the dirt road.

Scott worried they might be too late. She erased the thought from her mind and moved faster.

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***** “They’ve finished burning trash,” Debbie whispered. “Here they come.”

Zack and his dad hurried into the living room and took their places on either side of the door. Fortunately, the porch screen door swung out. Neither of them would be blocked from making their moves by the door.

Zack was breathing heavily. They couldn’t make a mistake.

In a few minutes, he heard their voices. Early came first, then O’Leary. Early called back something about getting most of the stuff burned.

“Let Early get through the door and when he takes a step or two inside, let him have it. As soon as Early goes down, I’ll take O’Leary.”

Roger whispered, “Got it.”

Footsteps sounded on the porch. Zack began to sweat. Easy.

Easy.

The porch door swung open. Early started to say something.

His foot appeared, then a leg, then a swinging arm. His head appeared, face turned back to yell at O’Leary.

Another step and Roger swung the poker and hit Early in the face with a sickening thud.

Early fell backward and Zack jumped over him, swinging his poker toward O’Leary, hitting him in the shoulder.

O’Leary screamed in pain and fell to one knee, holding his shoulder. Zack swung again. Missed O’Leary’s head by inches.

He whacked him in the other shoulder. Another scream of pain. A curse.

Zack charged, but O’Leary had somehow managed to pull a weapon out of his shirt and leveled it at Zack. “Stop, or I’ll fire.”

Zack froze. If he were dead, Roger and Debbie would soon join him.

O’Leary pushed himself up from the porch floor. He stood, gun in his right hand, left hand holding his shoulder. “You’ll pay for this, Kelly. I had planned to just shoot you and your father, now it’ll be slow and painful for both of you.”

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“Do whatever you want with me. Don’t make him suffer anymore.”

“Get inside.” He poked Zack in the back with his pistol and pushed him inside. “Tell your father to come out. If he doesn’t, I’ll start by shooting you in one leg, then keep shooting until he comes out.”

Roger walked out from the kitchen, hands up. “That won’t be necessary. Here I am.”

“Smart man. You love your son. Too bad, because you’re going to see him die and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. Now, where’s Debbie?”

Roger had thought ahead and hit her gently on the head so it would look like they had overcome her rather than her helping them. He turned back to the kitchen. “I’ll get her.”

“You better get back here without any tricks or I’ll start in on your son.”

“Don’t worry,” Roger replied. “I understand.”

In a moment he returned, holding up a groggy-looking Debbie, blood streaming from a gash on her forehead.

“What the hell happened?” O’Leary said.

She looked unsteady as she tried to talk. “I’m not sure how Kelly got loose, but they trapped me in the kitchen and tied me up. I’m sorry.”

O’Leary glared at her. “You’re lying. No one could have gotten through those knots without help. You helped them, you bitch.”

He raised the gun and shot her in the stomach. She grabbed her stomach, bent over, and fell to the floor, face first.

Zack yelled, “No.” Roger watched, open-mouthed. “You bastard.”

“Dirty bitch. I knew I couldn’t trust her. Fucking Early told me she’d be okay.” He turned to Zack. “Check Early. I think your old man killed him.”

Zack walked out on the porch and bent down do check his pulse. He reached for Early’s pistol, but O’Leary said, “Don’t even think about it. I can shoot before you pull the gun out. You’re dealing with a pro.”

“I know you’re a pro, but even pros make mistakes.”

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O’Leary laughed despite the pain in his shoulder. “Not this one.”

Early had a faint pulse. Blood oozed from the head wound.

Zack glanced up at O’Leary. “We need to get Early to the hospital and we need to do it right away.”

O’Leary waved Zack back inside. “Let the dumb shit die. I’d shoot him, but I’d rather watch him suffer.”

“What are you going to do now?”

O’Leary shot Zack in the leg.

Zack cried out, “Oh, oh, oh...”

Zack’s father called, “No.” “I told you I’d make you both pay. Why don’t you believe me?

I would have finished you off in one shot, but now I’m going to make you dangle in pain.”

Roger ran over to O’Leary, but O’Leary pushed him aside with a blow from his good arm, knocking him to the floor.

Zack stood on his one good leg, using his hand to support himself with a chair and looked O’Leary in the eye. “You are a fucking coward, hiding behind the gun. You don’t have the guts to take me on fair and square. You and your brother are both a couple of cowards.”

“I’m not a coward, you fucking moron. I’m smart, so I don’t end up on the wrong side of the gun. Well, tough shit, Kelly, here is step number two delivered in a silver package.”

Zack tried to keep his eyes open, glaring at O’Leary, but he couldn’t. He’d been wounded in the back in Iraq and it hurt like hell. This wouldn’t be so bad as it would soon be over. He knew his mother would care for Laura, the most important person to him in all of the world.

He heard the shot, but didn’t feel anything. He opened his eyes to see O’Leary struggling on the floor, blood seeping from his right arm.

Scott stood in the doorway, gun fixed on O’Leary. “Bad news, dip shit. You ended up on the wrong end of the gun.”

Zack turned to check on his dad, but fell, banging his head on a counter. He reached up to the top of the counter and pulled himself up again. “Dad? Dad? Are you okay?”

Collapsed again and everything went black.

219

39 Washington D.C. Monday 5:00 p.m.

Garcia waited until a little before five o’clock as Professor Zang Wei had requested. She left her desk and wandered into the hallway, checking to see if anyone watched her. Seeing no one, she headed up the stairs to find the professor.

When she reached the door, she stood back in the doorway to spot him. He stood in a corner of the room with about ten students gathered around him in chairs. Still had a class.

She entered the room and walked toward him. Pulling up a chair nearby, she sat and waited.

The professor saw her and called, “Almost done. With you moment.”

She waved. “No problem. Take your time.”

In a few minutes, the students stood and applauded, surprising Garcia. She’d never seen students applauding their professors before, but figured this must be an Oriental custom.

The professor walked over and shook hands. “Thank you for waiting. Let’s find tea. My throat dry.”

He led Garcia to a corner of the room where there were several pots of hot water and coffee, as well as soft drinks and bottled water.

He picked up a pot of tea. “You like tea?”

Garcia looked over the choices. “Thank you, but coffee would be more my line.” She lifted a cup off the table and filled it with coffee. Took a sip. “Glad it’s hot. So often, these spots only have cold coffee.”

“I agree,” the professor said. “I like tea hot, and requested Mr. Benson make sure it’s available. Let’s walk to a private corner and circle our chairs.”

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When they were seated, the professor set his cup on a small table next to him and asked, “How may I help you?”

This kindly man impressed Garcia. “Thank you so much. I appreciate your courtesy. As I mentioned earlier, I will be joining you on the general’s traveling team. I thought it would be valuable if we knew each other a little more.”

She took a sip of her coffee. “I grew up in Austin, Texas and after college, I entered the army for a career. I recently returned from Iraq and am assigned to the Department of the Army staff.”

“Thank you,” the professor said. “Your comments help me understand how best to tell you what we do. Artificial intelligence can be described as machine learning.”

“Machine learning?” Garcia asked. “I don’t understand.”

“We use algorithms to help computer learn. Another way to explain is compare to rules-based programing. In rules-based programing, analyst provides the computer every step and it does exactly what is asked.”

“Are you saying in machine learning the machine tries to figure out the rules through trial and error?”

His face lit up. “Yes. You pick up fast. Exciting part is machine may discover rules and correlations the programmers didn’t even know.”

Garcia nodded. “Okay, so far.”

“So many of movies show computers taking over on own.

That isn’t the way works, at least not yet. We provide goals, computer works from there.”

Garcia thought for a moment. “I think I’m getting it a little.

After you provide the rules and a process to be used, the machine will figure out the answer through a series of trial and errors.”

The professor leaned back and took a sip of tea. “In its simplest form, that’s correct. Very quick, Colonel.”

Garcia felt good. Never much of a math whiz.

“There are many examples of how artificial intelligence be helpful. The airlines use it when the pilot places a plane on automatic pilot. Self-driven\ cars are another example.”

“Are there examples of where it hasn’t worked?” Garcia asked.

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The professor laughed. “Oh, so many. I always emphasize the programmer must anticipate every possible occurrence or computer will error.

“How’s that?” Garcia asked.

“For example, you have maybe heard of the incident where self-driven car hit pedestrian. The computer is instructed to stop for pedestrians in crosswalk. But, what if the pedestrian is not crosswalk, then car may not stop.”

Garcia tapped herself on the forehead. “Wow, thanks. That makes sense to me. What are you doing now?”

Professor Wei looked around, then whispered, “First of all, must specify what computer supposed to solve. That our challenge now.” He took a sip of tea, leaned forward. “We try to gather data on voters in system.”

“What sort of data?” Garcia asked.

“Our goal is divide the voter data points into special categories so we can analyze them. These might include data on individuals, age, job, finances, party preferences, military, pacifist, and more.”

“Why is that important?” Garcia asked.

“We can use that data to plan our social media efforts, talks, house visits. For example, if we know where the military are in the state, we can direct our efforts toward them and not waste resources.”

Garcia had to muzzle her reaction. The professor talked about possibly hacking into the computers in the state elections office without concern. Should she push a little? She leaned over closer to him. “Are you able to do it?”

The professor looked around once more. “Cannot say all, but we are hoping the computer will help us weigh votes. For example, a vote for our candidate might be weighted at one point one (1.1) vote and for opponent might be weighted point zero nine (.9)votes. Help ensure our candidate win.” He rubbed his hands together. “Isn’t it exciting to master this idea?”

She needed to brief Admiral Steele. But first, she needed to ratchet down the conversation. “Have you got any books or manuals I could study to better understand your system?”

“Certainly. I write several.” He shook his head.

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“What’s the matter?” Garcia asked.

“How Chinese?”

Garcia had to laugh. “Uh oh, I see your concern.”

The professor stood. “I regret must leave for appointment. I look forward to next time together.”

Garcia bowed slightly and said, “Thank you so much.”

Zang Wei laughed. “No need to bow. Bowing make me feel old.” He turned and walked toward the door.

Garcia watched him leave, then turned to hurry back downstairs to call the admiral. ***** Zack grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his bleeding leg. He hurried over to where his dad lay and knelt on the floor.

He shook his dad’s shoulder gently. “Are you okay?”

Roger’s eyes fluttered open. Took a minute to focus on Zack.

“What happened?”

“O’Leary hit you and you fell to the floor. Scott and Fairchild got here in the nick of time and saved our butts. Scott wounded O’Leary in the arm before he could shoot me a second time.”

Roger glanced at Zack. “Didn’t O’Leary shoot you in the leg?”

Zack nodded. “Hurts, but doesn’t appear to be too bad.

Fairchild has called 911 for ambulances and the sheriff. They should be here soon.”

“How about Debbie?” Roger asked.

“Not sure. Fairchild is checking her out, now. Scott is keeping an eye on O’Leary until the sheriff arrives. Not sure yet about Early. He’s flat out on the porch. Has a pulse, but it’s faint.”

Scott kept her gun on O’Leary, never taking her eyes off him.

Fairchild tied him to chair while Scott kept guard. Then Fairchild wrapped a tourniquet around his arm to stop the bleeding.”

“Goddamn it, I need some medical help. You’re letting me bleed to death.”

Scott walked up to him and pointed her gun at his nose, punching him in the face with the barrel. “Oh, sorry, my hand slipped.”

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“You can’t do that,” O’Leary screamed. “I’ve got rights.”

“Listen shit head, if it were up to me, I’d pull this trigger. But the law won’t let me do it unless you move. Besides, your brains would get all over me and that would make me sick. Why don’t you shut up until the medics get here.”

Fairchild tore Debbie’s shirt into strips and jammed it and two towels into the wound in Debbie’s stomach. She applied what pressure she could. “Medics better get her fast if we’re to save this lady.”

After making sure his dad was comfortable, Zack limped out to the porch to check on Early. Called to the others, “He’s still breathing with a stable heartbeat. We need the docs soon.”

It took about twenty minutes for the first ambulance to arrive. Fairchild hurried outside to lead the orderlies to Debbie.

“She needs the most help.”

The attendant called for a second ambulance. The two attendants went to work on Debbie to try and stop the bleeding.

The sheriff arrived shortly after the first ambulance. When the sheriff walked in, Scott waved at him and flashed her badge.

“Over here. This guy is a fucking animal. We need to keep a guard on him, constantly.”

The sheriff nodded. “We talked at the senior center.”

“Right. I’m a homicide detective from Fairfax County outside of DC.” “You’re a long way from home.”

“No kidding. If your guys can guard this creep, I’ll tell you what we have here.”

The sheriff pointed at one of his deputies to watch O’Leary.

“Be careful. He’s tricky.”

While the deputy kept his weapon on O’Leary, Scott provided an update to the sheriff. “I’m not sure all of the charges to be lodged against O’Leary and Early. As you know, Early owns the senior center in Brainerd. I believe he’s responsible for setting the fire at his own center.”

Zack spoke up. “O’Leary and Early kidnapped my father and me in Minneapolis and brought us here at gunpoint. We were lucky Debbie, who previously had worked with them, helped the two of us escape.”

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The sheriff nodded. “Go on.”

Zack could feel himself getting weaker, probably from loss of blood. “I need to sit down.”

Scott pulled over a chair for him. “We need the medic over here as soon as you’ve stabilized the woman.”

Zack sat and tried to look up at the sheriff. “We saw them burning papers that may have implicated them in an election scheme. It’s possible Early is involved in kidnapping election staff representatives from a variety of states and holding them drugged at his center.”

The sheriff ’s eyes got wide. “Are you saying these guys were masterminding a plot to kidnap employees, hold them hostage, then try and manipulate the election results. I find it hard to believe.”

Scott chuckled. “I do too, sheriff, but what I do know and can prove is these two men kidnapped Zack and his dad in Minneapolis, brought them here. Zack witnessed O’Leary shooting Debbie Swenson.”

The ambulance attendant hurried over to where they were talking and wrapped Zack’s leg. “We’ve got Ms. Swenson ready to go. I’m sure she’ll require surgery when we get her to the hospital.

The second ambulance will move Mr. Early with the concussion.”

“Why don’t you take my dad in the ambulance with Debbie.

He may have a concussion.”

The orderly nodded. “That works.”

Scott stepped forward. “Zack and O’Leary will need to be transported to the hospital for care. We need to keep O’Leary under guard, the bastard is extremely dangerous.”

We’ve got two police cars. We can transport O’Leary in one and Kelly in the other. I’ll leave one of my deputies here until the lab guys arrive.”

Fairchild walked over. “The docs are taking care of Debbie.

Let me get our car at the end of the lane, then Scott and I can follow.”

Zack took a deep breath. Finally. The possibility of closure.

Then it hit him. “Garcia, we need to get the word to her. She could be in danger once the crooks in DC find out about what’s going on here.”

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He borrowed Scott’s phone and dialed. “Damn, it went to voice mail.”

“Try again,” Fairchild called. “We need to alert her.”

“I know,” Zack dialed again. “Damn, voice mail.”

He called to Scott. “I can’t get through to Garcia. Once those guys hear what’s happening here, that may blow her cover.”

Scott took back her phone. Called Garcia again. “Crap. I’m getting voice mail too.”

Zack hobbled over to the police car with the assistance of a deputy. He climbed in and kept trying Garcia. Getting weak from loss of blood, he finally closed his eyes. Garcia. Gotta help her.

226

40 Washington D.C. Monday, 8:00 p.m.

Garcia returned to what passed for her office and sat down to digest what she had just heard.

First of all, Farmington had plans to take over the world. She thought about the professor’s summary of artificial intelligence.

These guys were dangerous and had to be stopped.

She laid her cell phone on her desk. Had to call Admiral Steele, but first, she needed to get her thoughts organized.

As she sat at her desk lining up her presentation, Michael O’Leary came in, a smirk on his face. “You’ve finally gone too far this time, bitch.”

Garcia glanced up at him. “Don’t you ever give up? You need to get a life.”

“Not when I know I’m right. Now let’s go. The boss is waiting.”

Garcia heard her cell phone buzzing, looked down. Looked like it came from Zack. “Just a minute, I need to take this call.

Could be important.”

“Nothing’s more important than a meeting with the boss.

Let’s go.”

“Hold your horses. I’ll be right there.”

Garcia reached for her phone, but O’Leary leaned over and grabbed her phone. He pulled out his pistol. “Nothing’s more important than a meeting with the boss. Now move, or I’ll shoot the hand reaching for your cell.”

Concern flooded her. What had happened to empower O’Leary. “Okay. Okay. If you feel so strongly about it. You’ve got my attention.”

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She stood to walk toward the door when she heard her phone buzzing again.

She stopped, but O’Leary grabbed her by the arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

He almost pulled her out the door toward the stairs. She stopped. Looked up at him. “Dammit. Knock it off. I’m perfectly capable of walking up a flight of stairs.”

When she reached Benson’s office, O’Leary pushed her into the room. “Will you knock it off. I can walk into an office without you manhandling me.”

She glanced around to see Benson sitting behind his desk and Farmington off to her left.

Uh, oh, none of this looked good. What happened?

Benson didn’t smile, but motioned her to the one remaining chair. “Come in and take a seat.”

She looked around, then sat as directed. “Okay, what’s going on. O’Leary just about pulled my arm off in my little corner of the world. I thought you were going to keep him on a leash. I don’t need to be treated like a dog.”

Benson glared at her. “I could agree with you except about an hour ago, we received a call from our team in Minnesota. It seems your friend, Zack Kelly, has arrested a number of our team there.”

Oh crap. She thought about the phone ringing. Zack trying to warn her. “So what does that have to do with me. I work with Kelly in the same office, but we disagree on many issues.”

She glanced around. Didn’t seem to be impressing either Benson or Farmington. “Okay, what’s going on in Minnesota.

Haven’t been there for years.”

O’Leary looked as if he wanted to murder her. Unfortunately, he might get a chance if she didn’t work her way out of whatever was happening.

Benson appeared to be having trouble controlling his temper.

“Kelly claims we are part of an organization trying to disrupt the next election. Now where the hell did he get that idea?”

Garcia shrugged her shoulders. “I have no idea. I haven’t seen Zack in quite a while.”

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Farmington looked like he might hit her. “That’s bullshit. You both work in Admiral Steele’s office. He’s pulling apart our group in Minnesota at the same time you’re poking around here. Seems like quite a coincidence. And if you remember right, I don’t believe in them.”

Garcia knew trouble when she saw it. How to deal? “Ever since you asked me to help out, I’ve tried to be a valued member of the team. Tried to learn what’s going on so I can make a contribution. And all the time this asshole, O’Leary, has tried to make me look bad.”

O’Leary gave her a smile. “We’ve got you now.”

“What do you mean. You ain’t got nothing. Something happens a thousand miles away hasn’t got jack dirt to do with what we’re doing here. I can’t help it if someone is messing with your brother. I don’t even know him.”

She turned to Benson. “Look, you seemed like a right guy.

That’s why I stayed. Normally I don’t give much of a crap about politics. I did my job and I think I did it pretty well. If that’s not enough, then the hell with all of you. I quit.”

Benson glared at her. “I don’t believe you anymore. Your partner is arresting people and here you are checking out what we’re doing. I’m sorry because I liked you, but I don’t trust you anymore. I can’t.”

“But...”

“Sorry. No buts.” He looked at O’Leary. “Get her the hell out of my sight. We’ve got some defensive planning to do, and Garcia knows too much. Get her out of here.”

O’Leary stepped forward from the doorway.

Garcia knew she had to do something. She gave him her best karate kick aiming for the groin, but he moved to block her kick with his leg. He stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face, knocking her into the wall. She fell to the floor.

Shaking her head, she tried to get her bearings.

The security guard with O’Leary moved in and picked her up.

Between the two of them, they carried her out the door, her feet kicking at the air.

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***** The sheriff ’s deputy, driving Zack to the hospital, pulled up to the emergency entrance of the hospital. Two orderlies came out with a stretcher, but Zack waved them off.

Pain beat at his leg, but he wanted to check on his dad, then he needed to find out about Max. He hobbled into the ER. A nurse motioned him toward a treatment room.

Once he reached the treatment room, the nurse removed the towel, cut his trousers off and gave him a gown. It took a few minutes for a slender woman in blue scrubs to enter. She looked at his leg.

“You’re lucky,” she said. “The bullet missed anything vital, so the wound is primarily muscular. You’ll be sore for a few days, but it shouldn’t handicap you.”

“Great. What’s next?”

“I need to administer a local anesthetic and clean the wound.

Then I’ll tape you back together and you’ll be good to go. You may end up with a cane for a few days. I hope you’ll stay off the leg, but it sounds like you probably won’t.”

While she worked on him, he asked for a cell phone, but the doctor told him to lean back and relax. No cell phones in treatment areas.

He worried about Garcia. Can’t get notification to her.

Thirty minutes later, Zack had found a set of scrubs to exchange for his gown and was hobbling down a hallway to locate his dad. A nurse referred him to a treatment room.

He spotted a doctor with his dad. It appeared Roger had a concussion, but the doc’s initial diagnosis indicated it wouldn’t be too bad.

Zack hugged his dad. “I’m so happy you weren’t badly hurt.

Did you call Mom?” Roger nodded. “You bet. Take care of your leg. Don’t bang it around too much. Let it heal. Ethel will be bringing Laura with her. Should be here in a couple of hours.”

“Good news.” Zack waved to his dad and took off to find Max. He checked with the nurse, who told him they had her in the operating room.

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Once he found pre-op, he gave Max’s name to the nurse.

“She’s just out of surgery. Are you family?”

Zack shook his head. “No, but we were together when she got hurt.”

“I’ll see if I can find the doctor for you.”

“Please, it’s very important to me.”

In a few minutes, a slender blond-haired man in scrubs came out of the operating room.

Zack hurried up to him. “Can you give me information on Maxine Powell?”

The doctor looked at Zack with concern on his face. “Are you family?”

Zack shook his head. “A close friend visiting from New Jersey.”

“She’s undergone quite a traumatic event. The broken bones will certainly heal. I’m most concerned about a severe concussion, and her anxiety. She doesn’t seem to know who she is or remember how she got here.”

Zack’s heart sank. “Will she recover?”

“Injury to the brain is very difficult to forecast. I plan to transfer her to our Level One Trauma Center in Minneapolis for evaluation. We’ve done what we can for her here.”

“Can I see her?”

“For just a moment. She is very confused so please don’t upset her.”

Zack nodded. As he limped into her room, he saw her in the bed, sound asleep. Her face had been wrapped in gaze, black and blue any place he could see.

She must have heard something as her eyes opened. Looked at Zack without any hint of recognition.”

“Max,” he whispered, “It’s me, Zack Kelly.”

She looked at him, then shut her eyes again.

She had no idea who he was. His heart sank. He’d done this.

She had to recover. She had too.

He dropped into a chair in the visitor’s waiting room. Stared at the wall for a long time, thinking.

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Fairchild walked into the room. Started to ask him something, must have seen his face, then sat down next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. After a moment she asked, “Bad?” Zack nodded. “Very. Bones will heal, but the doc isn’t sure about the brain. Bad concussion. Anxiety.”

“That’s what I was afraid of. What’s next?”

“They’re moving her to a Level One Trauma Center in Minneapolis. I guess it’s up to time and Max.” “I know, Zack. We have to hope she will recover. On the brighter side, I saw Debbie. It’ll take time, but her prognosis looks good.”

He swore he’d get O’Leary for what he had done to Max. Course there was a better than average chance O’Leary would spend the rest of his life in jail.

Since he couldn’t talk with Max, he hobbled down the hall to Debbie Swenson’s room. She lay in the bed, surrounded by machines pumping blood in, pulling waste out and helping her to breathe.

He stood by her bedside for a few minutes, thinking not only about Debbie, but Bonnie. He wondered what might have happened if he had stayed in Minneapolis. One of those many paths not traveled.

So much had happened since his arrival in Minneapolis a week ago. Was it only a week? Seemed like years.

It hit him like a rocket. Garcia. He pulled his phone out of the pocket in the scrubs and pushed in her number again. Crap.

Voice mail He needed to call Admiral Steele. Should have done it earlier.

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41 Washington D.C., Monday, 10:00 p.m.

O’Leary, with the help of a security guard, another bruiser, half carried and half dragged Garcia into an empty office. O’Leary glanced back and forth down the hall, then pulled the door shut.

He pointed at the guard. “You get a van and bring it around to the front of the building. Garcia and I will wait here. As soon as you get back, we’ll move her the hell out of here.”

He nodded and lumbered out of the office.

Garcia glanced around, measuring, eyeing, trying to figure out how she could make a run for it. Were there any weapons she could use? Spotted none. She needed to make something happen before they left the building.

O’Leary kept his gun pointed directly at her. “Don’t go getting any ideas. I can fire this baby much faster than you can move.”

Garcia had no doubt he could. She tried to remember what the hallway to the back door looked like. Didn’t think there was even an alley behind the offices. Going out the front door could be good news for her — should be people there.

The second man returned about fifteen minutes later. “Got it. Let’s go.”

“All right, bitch, get up. If you give me problems, I’ll be merciless for all you’ve done to me. No one pulls crap on me without punishment. Do you hear me, no one? Not even Benson’s supposed ‘Golden Girl.’ So it’s up to you.”

O’Leary nodded to the other man who walked over and pulled Garcia up off the floor. He took her arm and escorted her out of the room.

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Garcia kept searching, thinking. Finally a plan. Might work, O’Leary grabbed the other arm and between the two of them, half pushed, half carried her along the hallway.

Garcia focused as hard as she could. She would only get one chance. If she blew it, she’d be in deep shit.

Interesting how morbid thoughts run through your mind at a time like this. Who would care for Harold? Harold had to be her best friend. A friend is always there no matter what. A friend who loved her unconditionally. Made her start to cry.

Oh, Harold, she thought, I’m so sorry. Her parents. She had serious problems with her parents, particularly her father. Then she had found a possible new love interest. Damn. Stop O’Leary.

When they reached the front lobby, she spotted the fire alarm.

Here goes. Dropping her shoulders and at the same time lifting her feet, she swung up, hitting the guard in the throat with the flat of her hand, pivoting enough thrust, normally a fatal move.

The guard let go of her as he grabbed for his throat. O’Leary dropped his arm for a moment out of surprise. She kicked behind her and nailed him right in the crouch, making him bend over.

She reached for the fire alarm, broke the glass and pulled, causing a screaming siren throughout the building.

People rushed into the hallway, heading for the front door.

Garcia mingled and made it to the front stairs when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Turning, she saw O’Leary’s face. “Nice try, bitch, but you’re not fast enough to beat me. I hurt so damn bad where you hit me, I’ll make you pay double for what you did.”

She felt the gun barrel in her back. He could fire at any second so she’d better play along. Wait until he slipped again. Break away.

“All right, you win for now.” She knew she would pay, but couldn’t resist, saying, “You seem bent over. Is there a problem?”

He jammed the gun further into her back. She cried out in pain.

“Laugh now, bitch. Your time is coming.”

She yelled. “This guy has a gun. Call police.”

People turned and stared. A few stopped.

“Don’t feel any sympathy for her,” O’Leary shouted. “She tried to rough up the general. Doesn’t think he should be president.

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Well, she’s getting exactly what she has coming to her. We’re kicking her out of our headquarters.”

O’Leary pushed her along. She fought him, but knew at any minute he’d pull the trigger and she’d be toast.

Stepping outside, she heard sirens. Help from the firemen.

Not a great idea, but all she could think of. Running out of options.

Two police cars raced down the street, sirens blaring, red light streaming, two black vans behind them. The police cars stopped near the front door of the headquarters, blocking the street. The two vans pulled up on the sidewalk, scattering people who had run outside.

One of the vans stopped directly in front of where she and O’Leary stood.

Agent Harper jumped out of the lead van, pistol in hand, another agent right behind him. The agent pointed a Heckler and Koch, 9mm directly at O’Leary.

Garcia dropped to her knees, using her open hand to give a karate chop into O’Leary’s knee. She felt the pistol barrel pull out of her back and she rolled to her left, tripping him. He fell.

Harper jammed his foot onto O’Leary’s arm, forcing him to drop the pistol. Harper glared down at O’Leary. “Don’t move.

Don’t move so much as a muscle. You do and I’ll shoot to kill. No one messes with my friend, Garcia.”

O’Leary lay back down, hands outstretched. “All right, don’t shoot. This is all a misunderstanding we can work out.”

“Bullshit,” Harper replied. “All I know is if you move a muscle, I’ll shoot you in the face. I’m sure no one would mourn your loss.” He turned toward her. “Garcia, are you all right?”

Garcia nodded with a weary smile. “Boy, am I glad to see you. I’ve got the goods on Farmington and Benson. Get them.”

Harper yelled to the other agents. “Shut this place down.

No one enters or leaves until I check them out, personally. Find Farmington and Benson. Arrest them. I don’t give a damn what they claim or say. Arrest them in the name of the FBI Director.”

He turned back to Garcia. “You owe Scott. She got through to me on the phone. Said you were in bad trouble and needed help.”

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He smiled and added, “Told me if I didn’t get my ass over here, I’d have her to answer to. Didn’t want that. Decided I’d better get over here.”

“I’m so happy to see you I might even change my allegiance from the Cowboys to the Redskins.” She smiled another faint smile. “Well, on second thought, that might be pushing it.”

Harper started laughing. “Sounds like we got here just in time.”

Garcia sunk to the ground. “Oh, man, did you ever.”

236

42 Minneapolis, Lakewood Cemetery, Two weeks later.

Zack Kelly stepped out the front door of the black limousine and limped around to the trunk, reached in and pulled out a wheelchair. He opened the chair and moved it around to where he could open the back door.

He assisted the elderly woman into the chair, then a younger woman stepped out of the car. Debbie Swenson smiled up at Zack as she took his extended arm.

He hugged her. “Finally, closure for you and your mom.”

She hugged him back. “You delivered, Mr. Kelly. Thank you.”

Together they pushed the older woman toward the waiting group as the mournful sounds of a bagpipe playing Amazing Grace swept across the fall sky in the cemetery.

The special people in Zack’s life sat at the graveside to help him remember and memorialize his friend. Roger and Ethel Kelly, Laura Kelly, Rene Garcia, Tara Fairchild, Lieutenant Scott and Senior Agent Harper. Many of Zack’s former high school classmates sat in the group. He smiled at his good friend Nancy Goldstein who said they had postponed the reunion until the following Spring.

With Debbie’s help, they had been able to move Bonnie’s remains from the grave by Jake’s cabin to the cemetery here in Minneapolis.

When Zack, Debbie, and her mother took their seats, the minister standing at the edge of the grave, began with a short introduction and a prayer. Then he asked if anyone had a special message. Debbie motioned to Zack.

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Zack had tried to come up with something appropriate, but wasn’t sure he had hit the right tone. He stood. “It’s been twenty years since I last saw my friend and first love, Bonnie Swenson.

When I came to Minneapolis for my class reunion, I hoped to see her again and catch up. I had no idea about all the things that had happened over those twenty years.”

Debbie began to tremble, then wept.

Zack reached over and put his arm on her shoulder. “I’m not in any position to evaluate all that happened, but I can say Bonnie was a wonderful person and so is her sister, Debbie. I love both of them and will continue to do so as long as I live.”

More sobs.

“This has been a trying week beginning with the loss of a wonderful friend and high school classmate, Jean Edwards. But thanks to the efforts of all of us, including the FBI and numerous other agencies, I believe the danger to our government has passed. Two killers have been arrested and are awaiting trial.

General Farmington and his political advisor have both been arrested for their role in this effort.”

He began to choke up and had to stop. After a moment, he began again. “I want to thank all who helped me during this trying time. This week’s challenges should be a reminder to all of us that friends are to be honored and remembered. It is with a mixture of love and remembrance, I am pleased that after all this time, we have been able to provide an appropriate farewell for Bonnie and closure for her family.”

Thank you all for coming and please feel free to come forward after the benediction to greet Debbie and her mother. ***** It took about an hour for the guests to clear. Finally, only a small group gathered inside the building at the entrance to the cemetery, drinking coffee and eating scones. They had worked together for one of the most trying times of their lives.

Agent Harper glanced at Debbie. “I’m glad the chief nurse, Margie Bryant, decided out of respect for Debbie to testify to the 238

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grand jury against Early and Tyson,” Agent Harper said. “She will spend time in jail and her testimony should place both of them in jail for a good long time.”

Zack walked over and put his arm around Debbie. “Bryant’s testimony also helped clear Debbie of any charges. I believe Bryant’s words demonstrated Debbie could have chosen better, but without a doubt she has been punished more than anything the government could ever do.”

Agent Harper finished his cup of coffee. “It will take a while before charges against General Farmington and Benson are finalized, but I believe there is enough evidence to bring each of them to justice.”

He took a bite of scone. “Under the direction of the FBI Director, the FBI raided the computer center near Mountville, Pennsylvania, and closed it down, hopefully minimizing the threat to our election computer systems. Unfortunately, the professor in charge was able to escape to the embassy.”

Zack reached over and gave Debbie a hug, then he hugged her mother. “I promise it will not take me twenty years to come back and see you again.”

Debbie finally managed a smile. “I sure as hell hope it won’t.” ***** Zack and Laura walked slowly into the front door of the rehabilitation center and up to the desk. He had trouble talking, so Laura stepped forward.

“We’re here to visit Maxine Powell.”

The receptionist nodded. “She’s in room 201.”

As they walked up the hallway, Laura reached over and took her dad’s hand. “We’ll get through this together.”

Zack wiped a tear from his eye and squeezed her hand. How had he been so lucky to have this beautiful, thoughtful daughter by his side? “Thanks, honey.”

They reached room 201 and peeked in to see Max looking out the window, still bandaged around her head with casts on her right leg and left arm.

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Zack stood in the doorway, looking at the back of the woman who had volunteered to help him. He felt responsible for what had happened to her.

Laura took a step forward. “Come on, Dad, let’s walk over and talk to her.”

He stepped forward, putting one foot in front of the other.

When he reached her side, he leaned toward her. “Hi, Max. It’s me, Zack Kelly. My daughter, Laura, is with me.”

Her gaze stayed focused on something outside the window.

Zack turned his own gaze to the window and saw the trees, birds, cars moving on the street in front of the Minneapolis center and people walking. “It’s busy out there.”

No answer.

Laura stood on her other side. “Hi, Max. It’s me, Laura Kelly.”

No answer.

Zack stepped back and whispered to Laura. “As soon as she’s physically recovered and can travel, Admiral Steele has arranged to have her medically transferred to Sea Isle City, New Jersey, where her elderly mother lives. We hope her influence will help Max regain her ability to talk again.

Memories surrounded him. Max walking down the hallway at the airport smiling and waving. Max talking and laughing with him. He loved her quick wit and humor. And yes, a naked Max curled up against him.

Laura bumped him. “How ya doing?”

Zack shook his head.

“What say we get a couple of chairs and sit with her.”

Zack nodded. They pulled up chairs on either side of Max and looked out the window together. Zack didn’t want to keep conversation going. He just wanted to be with her and they sat with her, all looking out the window together.

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