“Why?” Heather asked, wounded.
“Coach, what’s up? Why are you acting so random?” Jordan’s lips parted, and Chris could see how hurt they were, which made him feel terrible. He had deceived her and Jordan, who had trusted him. They had been his unwitting, and he’d never felt bad about it before. He owed them an explanation.
“Heather, Jordan, there’s something I have to tell you. I’m a Special Agent with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms, and Explosives, and I’m working undercover.”
“Chris? You’re a what?” Heather asked, astonished. “You mean, you’re not really a coach?”
“Correct, I’m not a coach. That was a cover story. I have to go now. We all do.” Chris had no more time to lose. He crossed the room and removed the false front from a shelf in the entertainment center, which concealed a small safe that he’d built into the wall himself.
“Whoa, Coach, I mean, for real?” Jordan gasped. “Are you kidding right now?”
“Jordan, I’m sorry I lied to you, but I had to.” Chris dialed the safe’s combination, opened the door, and took out his wallet and shoulder holster with his Glock. He closed the safe, walked back to Heather and Jordan, and showed them his ID and badge. “Here’s my ID, so you know.”
“It says Curt Abbott,” Heather said, shocked. “Chris isn’t your real name?”
“No, now that’s all I can tell you and I shouldn’t even be telling you that. I’m asking you to keep this completely confidential. Tell no one outside of this room. This is a federal matter, and we are handling it.” Chris felt a wrench in his chest to see Heather edge backwards, her eyes showing the sting of betrayal.
“Chris, is this really true?” she asked, her tone newly hushed. “You lied to us to help Evan?”
“No but I can’t explain more,” Chris rushed to say, slipping on his shoulder holster and checking the snap on the thumb break, which held his Glock securely in place. “You’ll be contacted by an ATF agent within the hour. They’ll confirm what I’m saying. Now let’s go, hurry.”
Chris hustled them downstairs, then ran for his car, pulling out ahead of them.
It was go-time.
Chapter Forty-eight
Chris tore out of his development, heading toward Courtney’s. Mole Street was in the Murray Hills development, and he knew the way. He reached for his phone and called the Rabbi, who answered immediately.
“Curt, hi. I’m at the burn site, and we got nothing. Tell me something good. Improve my mood.”
“Can do. I think the kid who stole the fertilizer is Evan Kostis, from my baseball team.” Chris steered right, then left through the deserted streets. “He was having an affair with a female teacher at the high school, Courtney Wheeler, and she’s originally from Headley. Her maiden name is Shank, and she used to live on Evergreen Circle. I’m going to her house in Central Valley right now.”
“So they were connected. Nice work! You need backup? I’ll get the locals over there.”
“Yes, but I don’t want them to tip her off if she’s there.”
“Think she will be?”
“No. She could be up there with Evan. You need to send people over to her family home in Headley.” Chris told him the address.
“So you think the kid’s in the conspiracy with the teacher?”
“Yes.” Chris whizzed past the outlet malls, their stores darkened and closed. “His father is about to be indicted for tax evasion, a doctor at Blakemore Medical Center in Central Valley. Ask your AUSA and IRS pals what the deal is. That might be the source of Evan’s gripe against the government.”
“Okay. How are they traveling? You got a vehicle or a tag?”
“Not for Courtney, but Evan is driving a new black BMW. I’ll text you photos of the tag, the car, and him.” Chris had a photo of the BMW in his phone from that day in the parking lot, at school.
“What does this have to do with the dead teacher, Abe Yomes?”
“Not sure yet, but Abe was close friends with Courtney. You got anybody to call my unwitting, Jordan and Heather Larkin? I had to blow my cover, it couldn’t be avoided. They need handholding.”
“Text me the information, and I’ll get somebody over there.”
“Thanks. We have to assume any bomb plot is now in progress. If it was an anniversary bombing, they’re not waiting anymore.” Chris would fill him in about the sexting later, which would have accelerated the plot.
“Agree, they have to know we’re onto them by now. Meantime we’ll liaise with Homeland Security, the Joint Terrorism Task Force, and the FBI. They’re all here. You need to get up here after you assess the situation at the Wheeler house.”
“Okay. You going to send a helo for me?” Chris knew that getting a helo wasn’t always easy for ATF, which no longer had an aviation fleet. It received air support from DEA and U.S. Customs & Border Protection, through a Memorandum of Understanding, or MOU.
“Yes, we got all the toys up here.”
“Good. Let me let you go. Call the locals and I’ll meet them there.”
“Stay safe.”
“That’s no fun,” Chris said, hearing the bravado in his own voice. He used to say things like that all the time, but the words didn’t fit so easily in his mouth anymore. He’d liked risk before, when he had nothing to lose. Now, it was different. Or it could have been.
Chris turned right, then left. At the first red light, he texted the Rabbi the photos from his phone. When the light turned green, he headed through the quiet suburbs late on a Sunday night, when everybody thought their biggest worry was work or school the next morning.
He had to make sure they were right.
Chapter Forty-nine
Chris turned into Murray Hills, and the development was quiet, the houses still and darkened. He turned onto Mole Road, found the house, parked in front, and hustled out of the Jeep. He had beat the local police.
The Wheeler’s house was quiet, still, and dark, but a black BMW sat parked in the driveway behind a white Acura. It had to be Evan’s. Chris hustled to the BMW, pulling out his phone and switching to the flashlight function. He reached the car, scanning inside, but saw nothing.
“Evan?” he called out, but there was no response, and Chris prayed the boy wasn’t in the trunk, alive or dead. He would’ve popped it but he had to get inside the house. He jogged across the patch of front lawn, and when he reached the concrete steps in front of the door, he noticed that the front door stood partway open behind the screen door. The house was darkened inside.