Jeffery Deaver - Edge

Once inside the compound, I noted another car, the engine idling. It was being driven by a young associate from our organization.

He spotted me, shut the engine off and climbed out. The trim African American, about thirty, gave a nod and joined me at the steps to the porch. I could see his nose twitch as he got close and realized that I’d grown accustomed to the smell of scorch. I couldn’t sense it any longer.

“Hello, Geoff.”

“Corte. You okay?”

“Fine.” I glanced into his car, in whose front seat was another young man, with a round crew-cut head and eyes that took me in briefly and then returned to scanning the property.

“We waited out here, like you said.”

Geoff had picked up an FBI special agent, named Tony Barr, at a rendezvous point halfway between here and his house, a place that Freddy and I had agreed on. Since the truce with Westerfield was pretty tenuous, I’d decided I wasn’t going to give anybody outside my organization the location of the safe house directly. I was afraid the U.S. attorney might find out and descend in person to interview his new star witness in the MPD financial scam case.

There’s also my general reluctance to give away information of any kind.

“ID?” I asked. With Loving involved you could never be too cautious. But Geoff said that Freddy’s office had sent our office a picture of Barr and that facial recognition confirmed he was the agent.

“Impression?” Nodding toward the front seat.

“Military, focused, tactical time under his belt. Didn’t talk much.”

Freddy had given Barr high marks.

“Hang tight for a minute. Both of you.”

“Sure, Corte.”

I walked to the front door, hit the keypad and opened it.

I was pleased the Kesslers were not within earshot. Maree either. Ahmad and Garcia were; they’d known that the car was from headquarters but didn’t know why it was here.

I said to Rudy Garcia, “Talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure, sir.”

I told Ahmad to do a perimeter check and he headed out immediately.

“I talked to Agent Fredericks on the way over here,” I said to Garcia.

“Yessir. I mean, Corte.”

“He’s relieving you of duty.”

The man was silent; the stillness in his face was the equivalent to a gasp of shock.

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t understand.”

“I went to see your wife, Cheryl, about a half hour ago. At your house.”

His jaw drooped a bit. “You…?”

“When I called earlier, you told me you’d talked to her. About your son and the game-that’s how I knew. So I went to see her.”

He realized where this was going. I’d said no personal communications from the safe house. None. “I… It’s just she’s pregnant. I like to check on her. It was, like, for three minutes. I used a cold phone.”

“I told her I needed to find you, something was wrong. She told me you were in Great Falls off Harper Road.” I didn’t mention the shock and dismay the woman had felt when I’d flashed the ID and told her that her husband had gone missing.

His round face grew puffier, it seemed, and ruddy. His eyes scanned the floor. “I… I didn’t even think about it… Oh, shit. She just asked whether I was in South East or some dangerous place. I just said it was like a bed-and-breakfast in Great Falls… Christ, do you think Loving picked it up?”

“No.” On the way here, I’d had Hermes run a signal scan around the Garcia house. If Loving had been eavesdropping the receiver would still be there, to collect any new information. There was no evidence that he’d planted anything nearby. Realistically Loving probably had no idea who Garcia was or what job he was assigned to, nor could he track down his wife. But that was beside the point.

“Is she…?”

“Agent Fredericks had her picked up and moved to a safe location with your children. I’m going to move you there too, to be with her. We’ll keep you both incommunicado until the job’s concluded.”

Nodding, miserable. “I’m sorry, sir… I don’t know what to say. This is all new to me. This protection work.”

It was, of course. But his offense had nothing to do with the job of being a shepherd or clone; it was that he hadn’t obeyed the orders I’d given him. Which were about as simple as they come.

“I don’t want to get fired, sir. I can’t. I love my job.”

“I understand, Rudy. We’re simply relieving you of this detail. I’m not going to write you up. What happens to your career is between you and Agent Fredericks. Now get your things together. My associate outside’ll take you to your wife and kids.”

“Yessir. Thanks for not being a hard-ass, sir.”

He didn’t know that my generosity was rooted in simple self-interest. I couldn’t afford to have a disgruntled former employee-one who knew the location of my principals, even if he was in lockdown. Not until the job was over. After that, I didn’t care if he got booted or not. I’d recommend to Freddy that he should be fired.

Efficiency. Rational strategies.

A moment later Joanne burst into the hallway. She walked up to me, blinking at the smell and what I supposed was the soot on my skin. She blurted, “My stepdaughter. How is she?” Ryan joined us too, eyebrows raised.

I’d called them from the car, of course, to tell them about the successful escape from Carter’s and that both he and Amanda were now safe. But the parents would want more details and reassurance. I told them what I’d done, putting Amanda in detention.

Joanne was saying, “I wanted to talk to her. I tried the phone but it wasn’t working.”

“For the time being I don’t want anybody in communication with her. I want to keep her location completely secret.”

“What’s the problem with me talking to her?”

“She might mention where she is.”

“Why can’t we know?” Ryan asked.

“Loving recognizes her value as an edge over you. I don’t even want a hint of it on the airwaves. We know she’s completely safe. Carter’s with her and they’re in lockdown.”

“I thought you didn’t want to use a slammer,” Joanne said.

I noted how quickly she’d caught on to the terms of our art.

“Normally, I wouldn’t. But circumstances changed.” To reassure them I added, “She seemed to be doing better than Carter. What he said about her, having grit, that’s true.”

Ryan was drinking coffee. I couldn’t smell liquor. I said to both him and his wife, “We can eliminate the Graham case.”

“What’d you find?”

I explained about Graham’s son forging the check, adding, “Because he didn’t want to go back to college.”

Joanne shook her head, dismayed, perhaps, at the dysfunction of a family that required the children to engage in such tactics.

Massaging his game leg, Ryan said, “Most kids just drop out. They don’t commit felonies across state lines. It’s still a crime, even if he withdraws. I could go after the kid anyway.”

I hesitated for a moment. Then asked, “You met Graham. What did you think of him?”

“A prick.” Kessler seemed to get what I was saying. He nodded. “I don’t blame the boy for doing his own thing. I think I’ll just let it go.”

Joanne wondered aloud, “Who called to pressure Ryan’s department not to pursue the case?”

Somebody powerful …

“Probably one of Graham’s bosses at the Department of Defense. Doesn’t matter at this point. It’s a nonissue.”

Without a glance my way, Rudy Garcia left. I walked to the door and watched him get into the car and gestured Tony Barr inside. I introduced the quiet, unsmiling FBI agent to my principals and Lyle Ahmad, who-with a nod from me-gestured him aside to give him the details of the procedures we followed in the safe house. He caught on right away and I was pleased Freddy had recommended him.