G. Moffat - Blindside

‘We don’t know that it has anything to do with you yet. That’s why we’re here.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Hunter said.

‘Maybe we should start at the beginning.’

‘That usually helps.’

Logan looked at Cahill.

‘Detective,’ Cahill said, ‘so that you are aware of who we are and that we can be taken at our word, I’m a retired US army soldier and former Secret Service agent. Now I run a close protection business over in the UK. In Scotland.’

Hunter looked closely at Cahill as he spoke but said nothing.

‘I’m a lawyer,’ Logan told him. ‘I work in-house with Alex.’

‘We’ll try not to hold that against you,’ Collins said, smiling.

Hunter continued to look at Cahill.

‘You can check us out if you like,’ Cahill told him. ‘Go do it now and we’ll wait.’

‘Already done, Mr Cahill. You checked out.’

‘I used to work in the Secret Service with a guy called Tim Stark,’ Cahill said. ‘He was a Fed before he joined the service. A real all-American, you know?’

Hunter nodded.

‘And a friend too. Anyway, I got a call out of the blue this week from his wife Melanie. She said he was on that plane that crashed here but no one would tell her anything and his name wasn’t on the passenger list that the airline had.’

Logan could tell from Hunter’s face that he had no idea what this was all about but he let Cahill continue without interrupting.

‘I did a bit of digging on Melanie’s behalf. Cut a long story short, Tim was working undercover here in Denver on behalf of the

‘How did you find out about that?’

‘We asked the FBI chief here.’

‘And he told you? Just like that?’

‘Yes.’

Hunter raised his eyebrows, turned and looked at Collins who remained impassive. Logan guessed that they were partners. They seemed at ease with each other and able to communicate non-verbally.

‘Which brings us to you,’ Logan said.

‘Go on.’

‘Tim Stark sent himself an e-mail before he boarded the plane. Before he died. It said “D. Hunter, Denver”. That was all.’

‘And you think that’s me? Sounds slim.’

‘We don’t know. It’s no one else in town, that’s for sure.’

‘You checked them out?’

Logan nodded.

‘Bit of a long shot,’ Hunter said. ‘I mean, I don’t know this guy Stark. Never heard of him until you said his name.’

‘You know anyone in the FBI?’

Hunter paused for a moment. Something passed across his face — something that Logan couldn’t read. He wondered if Cahill noticed it.

‘I’ve had some dealings with them, yes,’ Hunter said. ‘But nothing to do with whatever this might be.’

‘Are you dirty?’ Cahill asked.

Logan’s head snapped to the side to look at Cahill. Hunter leaned back in his chair but held Cahill’s gaze. Collins came off the wall and stepped forward.

Hunter stayed calm, looked at Logan.

‘Your friend is very direct,’ he said.

‘Tell me about it.’

‘To answer your question, no, I’m not dirty. Why do you ask?’

‘It would explain why Tim thought that you were someone of interest.’

‘If it really was me that he identified.’ He leaned forward and put his hands on the table.

‘Did the FBI tell you what Stark was working on? The details, I mean.’

‘Not really.’

‘What did they tell you?’

‘They were looking at a group of ex-soldiers up to no good. They were hazy on the details of what exactly the no good part was. I don’t think they know.’

Collins walked forward and sat in the chair next to Hunter. Logan took it as a sign of interest in the subject of ex-soldiers.

‘How did they come on to the FBI’s radar?’ Hunter asked.

‘The main guy, I don’t know his name, put some stuff in writing that got him red flagged. Probably some anti-government crap. Then he gave up his job, started buying weapons. Legal guns. Sold his house. Went off the radar.’

‘That kind of behaviour usually means he’s up to something, that’s for sure,’ Collins said.

‘You said it was a group,’ Hunter said. ‘How many?’

‘Don’t know. They never told us. All they said was that this guy had some associates who did the same thing. Gave up their jobs, I mean. For no apparent reason.’

‘Sounds like prototypical domestic terrorists,’ Collins said.

‘I know, right. But I’m not convinced.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Hunter asked.

‘Well, I mean, how would they finance something like that with no jobs and no capital behind them?’

‘Could be they hooked up with an existing group that had cash?’

‘I don’t think so. Unlikely there’s two groups operating in the area and the FBI hasn’t heard of either of them until now.’

Hunter got up abruptly and said he was going to get some water. He asked them if they wanted anything and they both said yes. Hunter left, motioning for Collins to follow him.

‘What do you think?’ Cahill asked after they left.

‘I believe him when he says he’s not dirty.’

‘Me too.’

‘Yeah, and thank Christ for that. What the hell were you thinking coming out and asking him like that?’

Cahill shrugged.

‘I got a feel for him, you know. He seemed like a good guy.’

Logan puffed his cheeks and blew out a breath.

‘I swear, Alex. Working with you is taking years off my life expectancy.’

‘But they were definitely interested when I mentioned the soldiers, did you see that?’

‘I did. I expect the water was an excuse to make them leaving look casual when they really wanted to talk about it before going any further with us.’

‘Yeah, no doubt.’

Hunter and Collins came back with cardboard cups for Logan and Cahill and sat at the table sipping at their own drinks.

‘So what are you guys working on?’ Cahill asked. ‘Anything with a military connection?’

‘You know that I can’t say much about an ongoing investigation.’

‘So that’s a yes. The Feds would be interested.’

Hunter smiled for the first time. It changed his face, made him look much younger.

‘We represent the family of a victim possibly connected to your investigation,’ Logan said. ‘I mean, leaving aside how you feel about lawyers, you’d normally keep the family advised. Am I right?’

‘Tenuous,’ Collins said.

‘If there is something in this,’ Hunter added, ‘we will need to speak to the FBI. Even if I’d rather we kept it all here.’

‘You said you’ve dealt with the FBI in the past,’ Logan said. ‘I take it that didn’t work out so well?’

Hunter rubbed absently at the scar on his right arm, caught himself doing it and tugged at his shirt cuff as if wanting to pull the sleeve down and cover the scar.

‘I have the highest respect for some people in the Bureau. One of my closest friends works out of Quantico. It’s just that…’

Collins looked at his partner.

‘We all have our scars to bear?’ Cahill asked.

Hunter held his gaze.

‘Yes, we do.’

‘We’ve had a number of deaths in the city recently from drug overdoses,’ Hunter said.

‘Not our regular gig,’ Collins added.

‘You’re homicide, right?’ Logan asked.

‘Yes.’

‘Anyway,’ Hunter added, ‘we had a relatively large number of overdose deaths. Concentrated in the park over at the Capitol Building.’

‘How many?’

‘Three to start with. Two more in the last week.’

‘Doesn’t sound so big.’

‘It was also noticeable for the type of drug. A heroin derivative. Fentanyl and heroin, to be exact. Definitely not run of the mill.’