"He didn't tell me squat. All he said was that he's taken over Andie's cases."
"That's really all you need to know, isn't it?"
"What I need to know is why the sudden change in the way the FBI treats me? At the beginning I felt totally informed. Ever since my wife called from that pay phone in Oregon, it's as if somebody has cut the phone lines."
"There's a balance we have to strike, Mr. Wheatley. On the one hand, the FBI wants to keep the victim's family up to date. On the other, we can't jeopardize the investigation with leaks."
"I'm part of the investigation. If I'm in the dark, we can't help each other."
"That's why I encourage you to pass along any information you have, no matter how trivial you think it might be." "And all I expect in return is for the FBI to answer a few questions for me."
"I'll do my best."
"Does Agent Henning's sudden disappearance have anything to do with the fact that Shirley Borge was found dead this morning?"
"I can't answer that."
"That's what this is all about, isn't it? You all think Shirley was part of some group that has something to do with Beth's disappearance."
His insight surprised Lundquist. "I'm afraid that's not on the table for discussion."
"Andie is working undercover, isn't she?"
"I can't talk about that."
"Would you rather have me speculating about it? In public?"
Lundquist shot a nasty look. "It's not in the best interest of your wife or Agent Henning for you to go shooting your mouth off about a cult."
"A cult? I thought it was a gang."
"Why would you think there's a gang involved?"
He was about to mention Kirby Toombs but dropped it. "I don't anymore. So stop playing word games and tell me what makes the FBI think this is cult activity."
"Many things, most of which I'm not at liberty to delineate. Suffice it to say that certain evidence suggests to our experts that we could be dealing with some kind of group agenda that is effectuated through homicide."
"What do you mean, like the Manson family?" Lundquist did not respond, but he didn't have to. Gus said, "My God. Let's hope you're wrong."
"Mr. Wheatley, I don't want you to spend a lot of time worrying whether there's a cult involved in these,killings. For you, . The question boils down to something far more personal. Something that should perhaps help you understand why the flow of information between you and the FBI hasn't been quite what it used to be."
"I don't understand."
"You need to ask yourself the same question we're asking. Is your wife a victim? Or is she an accomplice?" "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
With that, the proverbial line in the sand had been drawn at his feet. Gus was suddenly glad he hadn't mentioned his talk with Kirby Toombs. If his wife was some kind of suspect, he had to be very careful about the things he told the FBI. He needed to leave before saying something he'd regret.
"Thank you for your candor," said Gus, rising.
"You're welcome."
Gus started for the door but stopped. "Let me say just one thing to you and the whole damn FBI. If you think for one second that my wife had anything to do with these murders, you're . Out of your mind."
"We'll see," he said coolly.
Gus glared across the office till the agent blinked. He closed the door on his way out, nearly slamming it in his wake.
Chapter Fifty.
They were somewhere in north-central Washington, exactly where Andie didn't know. They had traveled the last half hour without so much as a road sign. Although the trip had taken three hours, she sensed they were nowhere near a full three hours from Yakima. The journey had been circuitous. Had she wanted to turn back and go home, it would have been impossible. If she had wanted to retrace her journey three weeks hence, that, too, would have been impossible. To that extent, the meandering had a certain paranoid logic to it.