Allison Brennan - If I Should Die

“I do.”

He seemed surprised, then shook his head with a half-smile. “You are a masochist. Why do you care? Most people would be running away screaming by now.”

“Bobbie is a fucking psychopathic bully, and I hate bullies.”

Swain stared at him, assessing Sean. Sean let him.

“Can you protect my son?”

“Yes.”

“I’m dead serious, Rogan. Protect him or his fate is your fate. I still have friends on the outside. Friends no one even knows about.”

For the first time, Sean felt a twinge of concern. How could he protect Ricky if he didn’t know where he was hiding? Could he protect Ricky? How deep was the kid involved with Bobbie’s people? Would he even trust Sean?

“You tell me what you know, and I will protect your son or die trying.”

That satisfied Swain. He sat back down. Sean also sat.

“Talk to Jon Callahan.”

Sean shook his head. “He’s playing with her.”

Swain laughed. “Hardly. He wants to kill her.”

“Why? Because she’s a whack job?”

“Whack job. I like that. No. She killed Joe Hendrickson.”

Sean couldn’t prevent the surprise from registering on his face. “Why?”

“Because Joe was talking to the wrong people.”

“Be more specific.”

“I can’t. I still got to live in this prison, Rogan.”

“And was Joe close to Jon and Henry?”

“Yes. And Joe looked out for Ricky, too, especially after Abby died. Joe and I didn’t like each other, but I respected him. There are no honest men in the world, but if there were, it’d be Hendrickson. He left me alone, I left him alone. Bobbie had to make it look like an accident-a heart attack-because a lot of people would have been angry with her for taking him out. Jon was in over his head and Jimmy was panicking. Then Joe’s sons show up in town with this foolish idea for a resort.”

“Why does anyone care about the resort? It’s not a big place.”

“But it’s people . Outsiders. Hikers.” Swain realized that Sean didn’t get that. “Let’s say this. The product has changed. They need more space, warehouses, warmth. If you looked at the town’s gas and heating bill, you’d be surprised.”

They were growing pot. “There has to be more to this than a little weed,” Sean said.

“Little? Hardly. And there is. And that’s where the problem is. Talk to Jon, if you can. He’s changed. It got personal.”

“And it’s not personal for you?”

“It’s business for me. I’ve protected my son as best I can from in here.” He tapped his finger again. Maybe it was more personal than even Swain admitted to himself. “Bobbie wants to teach Ricky the family business, knowing I promised Abby he’d have a real life. She thinks it would be funny. And if he doesn’t join her, she’ll kill him. Not so much to get back at me, though that’s part of it. But because she does not let anyone tell her no .”

“Sweet little sister.”

“Do not underestimate her.”

“She must have a weakness.”

“It depends what you consider a weakness. She’s incapable of caring about anything except her goal. She likes to hurt people, and she won’t hesitate. You can’t reason with her. She’s manipulative and a liar. She has a wicked, hair-trigger temper-though I’ve heard she’s worked to control it. Our dad always said her temper would get her killed.”

“Thank you.” Sean rose, then turned back and said, “How is it personal with Jon?”

“Bobbie killed the woman Jon loved.”

“And she killed the woman you loved.”

Swain leaned forward. “That’s why I’m helping Jon, even though he turned his back on me years ago.” He called, “Guard! I’m ready.” He said to Sean, “Remember. You promised to protect my son. I’m holding you to that.”

Lucy took a few moments to compose herself before returning to the conference room. The group was adding her information to the timeline for Victoria Sheffield.

Lucy skimmed through documents related to Sheffield’s original case, completely bored by the White Collar unit’s methodical report, until she got to the bottom line and saw that the studio that had brought the case to the Feds estimated they lost over six million dollars on one movie alone.

Studio One was familiar to Lucy. Where had she seen that name before?

She had started going through her papers when her cell phone vibrated with an email message. Noah read his phone at the same time. It was from Sean.

Sheffield met with Paul Swain on December 23. I need to talk to both of you ASAP-without other Feds eavesdropping .

Lucy glanced at Noah. His jaw was clenched so tight she saw a small vein throb at the top of his throat. He stood, and said, “You’ll have to excuse me for a moment.” He didn’t ask Lucy to join him, so she remained where she was.

Sheffield’s communications were rather generic, and listed from most recent to oldest. Lucy turned to the back of the packet and scanned the messages that came in prior to December 23. A full year before she disappeared, Sheffield wrote to her supervisor, Marty Strong.

I finally got a meeting with Studio One lawyers, along with G.T. from mounted police. We worked out the proprietary confidentiality agreement, I’m attaching it for approval .

Lawyers! That’s where she saw Studio One. They were a client of the law firm Jon Callahan worked for. That was Sheffield’s connection to Spruce Lake and her connection to Jon Callahan.

It didn’t explain why she switched investigations midstream from intellectual property theft to drug running, but it was a place to start.

She wanted to say something, but the computer expert was continuing his presentation about the data analysis. He felt that none of the messages supposedly sent by Sheffield after the twenty-third were actually from her. Marty Strong disagreed.

Noah stepped into the room. “Brian, Ms. Hart, may I speak with you?”

Candela and Hart followed Noah out. What was that about? There were murmurings until the trio returned less than two minutes later.

Hart said, “Tara, Marty, Dale-you stay. Everyone else, you’ll have to be excused for a few minutes.”

Lucy rose and gathered her notes. This had to do with Sean, she knew it, and he was in trouble.

Don’t panic .

If anything happened to him … her life would be empty.

“Lucy,” Noah snapped, “where are you going? Sit down.”

Lucy sat, startled by Noah’s tone, and a bit irritated. Hart said, “I was referring to my unit.”

When all but the seven of them had left, Noah said, “Sean Rogan is a principal at Rogan-Caruso-Kincaid, which is a security firm with high-level government clearance. They do quite a bit of work for different agencies, primarily Homeland Security, the DEA, and the FBI, and have several former law enforcement officers working for them, including Lucy’s brother Patrick, who was a cybercrimes cop in San Diego.” Noah turned on the speaker phone. “Sean?”

“I’m here.”

“The room is clear. There are seven of us-Lucy, myself, the SAC Elizabeth Hart, ASAC Brian Candela, and Agents Marty Strong, Tara Fields, and Dale Martinelli.”

“Your need-to-know team is quite large,” Sean said over the speaker.

Hart spoke up. “With all due respect, Mr. Rogan, I didn’t want to agree to this conversation at all, but Agent Armstrong convinced me to trust you. Please get to the point.”

“Certainly, Ms. Hart. Agent Sheffield visited Paul Swain in prison on December twenty-third. I read the report, and it said that Agent Martinelli was part of the task force, so you’re probably familiar with the Swain sting.”