Gary Ponzo - A Touch of Deceit

Nick shook her hand. “Nick Bracco.”

“Jennifer Steele,” she said.

“Jennifer Steele?” Nick squinted. He looked at Matt. Matt nodded. Yes, that Jennifer Steele.

Some women pull back their hair, throw on a flannel shirt and become Grizzly Adams. Steele didn’t wear a spec of makeup, yet Nick could tell that underneath all the denim there was a body dying to be wrapped tight in an evening gown.

“I see,” Nick said.

“Is there a problem?” Steele asked.

“Of course not,” Nick said. “You’ve been briefed?”

“Well. . actually, very little. The only thing I’m certain of is that you’re searching for the KSF’s home base. You have reason to suspect they’re hiding somewhere in the vicinity of Payson. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

She looked around at the group, all wearing casual clothes, no FBI windbreakers to be seen. “If you don’t mind me asking, how much more backup are we getting?”

“None,” Nick said. “You’re looking at the task force.”

“Oh,” she said, regarding the team with a fresh set of eyes. “Well, I’ve been instructed to assist you any way I can. I’ve been the R.A. up here for five years, so I’m certain I’ll be an asset.” She raised her brow. “Of course the more I know, the more valuable I become.”

Nick smiled. He knew how it felt to be at the lower echelon of the information chain. Most resident agents worked out of their homes in remote locations. For them, a bank robbery was about as exciting as it got. Terrorists harboring an operation center was way up the intrigue chart. And that’s precisely what Jennifer Steele looked like to Nick. Intrigued. Almost as intrigued as his partner. Matt stood there listening to Steele as if she were reciting the Ten Commandments.

Nick lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I’ll tell you what, Agent Steele, let’s head toward our command post and I’ll update you along with the local law enforcement.”

Her eyes were bright with anticipation and the corner of her mouth always appeared to be on the verge of a grin, yet her demeanor was all business. She pointed to her truck. “It’s your show. We’ll be using the Sheriff’s office as a command post, but don’t expect a welcome wagon when we show up.”

Nick smiled. “We never do.”

“A couple of you can ride up front with me, the rest will have to rough it in the back.”

Without a word everyone but Nick and Matt groped their way into the back of the truck. As they approached the passenger door, Nick gave Matt a wide berth and ushered him in.

The truck jostled back and forth as Agent Steele rolled the truck from the rough terrain onto the smooth surface of a paved road. Steele and Matt seemed eager to start a conversation, but neither of them appeared as if they could decide the proper way to begin. They rode in a stiff silence for a while until Matt ducked his head to look at the tops of the tall Ponderosa Pines waving in the autumn breeze. “Beautiful country up here.”

“I think so,” she said.

The silence lingered until the truck ascended the crest of a hill and downtown Payson came into view. Retail stores made out of logs and T-4 wood siding cohabitated with modern strip shopping centers and fast food restaurants. Steele slowed the truck to match the lower speed limit. “I have to warn you about the sheriff,” she confided. “He’s a bit heavy-handed.”

“You mean he’s a bully,” Matt said.

“I mean he’s not exactly friendly toward us federal employees.”

Matt grinned. “He just hasn’t met anyone as likable as us before.”

Steele looked at him. “I know enough about you, Agent McColm.”

Nick could feel Matt’s body go rigid. He seemed prepared to defend himself, when Steele said, “I mean, what kind of agent would I be if I wasn’t familiar with the FBI’s two time reigning sharp-shooting champion?”

A grin crept across Matt’s face and he sat up a bit taller. “I guess you would be the uninformed kind.”

This got her to display a smile that even happily-married Nick Bracco had to admire.

“Well, I happen to be a bit of a marksman myself,” she said. “Maybe not as good as you with a handgun, but I’d give you trouble with a rifle.”

“I’ll bet you would,” Matt said, looking her over as if he were appraising a fine diamond.

“Listen, kids,” Nick interrupted.

“Yes, Dad,” Matt said.

Steele let out the tiniest of a nervous laugh.

“First of all, we’re pretty certain the KSF is tucked away up here somewhere. Do you have any ideas where we might start a search?”

“Well,” Steele said,” there are plenty of cabins scattered throughout the outskirts of town. If I wanted seclusion that’s where I’d hide. How did you discover their location?”

“Yeah,” Matt said, turning toward his partner with a smirk. “Why don’t you tell us that, Dad?”

Nick looked over his shoulder and saw the team appearing to be taking in the scenery from the back of the truck, but he knew better. Each set of eyes was rummaging the countryside, searching for anything suspicious. “It gets complicated.”

Steele gave Nick a sideways glance. “Is that another way of saying get lost?”

“Not at all. It’s just that some of the people involved aren’t the type to. . uh. . be associating with law enforcement types.”

She pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “You mean like the one with the purple toothpick?”

Nick looked back and rolled his eyes at the sight of Silk in his long, black, wool coat, and pointy black boots sticking out from the bottom of his perfectly creased jeans. He looked like he belonged on the sidelines of a college football game. “Yes, like him,” Nick said.

“I see.”

This seemed to satisfy her curiosity for the moment. She slowed even further and made a left hand turn at the first traffic light Nick had noticed. In a few minutes they were rolling into the freshly asphalted parking area in front of the Gila County Sheriff’s Office. Like most buildings in Payson, it was made of wood and topped with a shingled roof. Parked in front of the building was a sparkling new Ford pickup truck with temporary plates demonstrating its adolescence.

Nick pointed to the vehicle. “That’s the Sheriff’s?”

Steele nodded. “It’s his baby. He’s practically showing it off door-to-door.”

The group unloaded duffle bags full of gear and followed Steele through the front door and into the administrative office. Three older women were busy behind the counter. Two were on the phone, and the third was heaving a cardboard box full of files across the room. The walls were lined with filing cabinets and the floor was an aging linoleum that curled slightly at the perimeter.

Steele removed her baseball cap and waved a thumb over her shoulder at the small crowd behind her. “Afternoon, Lorraine. This is the crew of agents from Baltimore that Sheriff’s been waiting for. Is he in?”

The woman had the unimpressed look of someone who’d seen too much reality TV. She placed the box on her desk and picked up her phone. “They’re here,” she said.

After a moment she placed the phone down and pointed toward a hallway. “You know where to go.”

Nick trailed the field, taking it all in. The agents all nodded at the woman as they passed and Silk pulled the toothpick from his mouth in a hat-tipping gesture.

Once inside the Sheriff’s personal office, linoleum gave way to a brown industrial grade carpet. A giant picture of Geronimo loomed on the wall across from the Sheriff’s desk, which was flanked by the United States flag and the state flag of Arizona. The Sheriff wore a tan uniform with a gold star on his sleeve. He sat with his legs crossed as if he were a guest on a talk show and his hands cradled a Styrofoam cup on his slight potbelly.