Exasperated, Kaiser leans forward and wipes the windshield so that he can observe the hospital entrance.
“Why didn’t you tell Ozan to get the hell away from here?” I ask. “You’ve got the authority, especially being here on a terrorism case.”
“I honestly wasn’t expecting such a brazen move. I was hoping to put out the word that Henry had died, but that’s not going to fly now. As for Ozan, I’m giving him rope and hoping that he and his boss will hang themselves with it.”
“Forrest Knox?”
“That’s right. My man Forrest just unzipped his fly. I’ve been playing a long game with that bastard, but his time is coming.”
Kaiser may be playing a long game, but I don’t have time for such luxuries. My game will be won or lost in the next eight hours or so, and I don’t want to sit here long enough for Kaiser to start questioning me. To forestall any interrogation, I ask whether his digital surveillance has picked up anything further between Brody Royal and his son-in-law.
He rolls his eyes and says, “They know what we’re up to. That’s the only explanation. So, do you want to tell me what you have on Royal?”
While I try to think of a credible answer, I realize that Randall Regan must not have said anything on the phone about Caitlin firing a gun in his house. If he had, Kaiser would certainly have said something to Caitlin about it.
Kaiser is clearly getting impatient, but before he can press me, an FBI agent taps on his window, then tells him that Henry Sexton is demanding that his mother be let in to visit him when she arrives. Preoccupied with me, Kaiser grants permission, so long as Mrs. Sexton presents valid ID and matches the picture on it. As he concludes this conversation, Caitlin appears in front of the car and signals for me to get out.
“I need to speak to her,” I tell Kaiser, and quickly make my escape.
“Are you okay?” I ask Caitlin.
She nods but says nothing. Then I see Jordan standing a few feet behind her.
“Delayed shock,” Jordan says. “I’ve seen it plenty of times in war zones. She’ll be all right. She’s plenty tough.”
“Maybe I should drive you back,” I suggest.
Caitlin shakes her head, her eyes fraught with conflicting emotions. “Thanks, but my press operator drove me over, and he’s still here. Jamie texted me while we were inside. The deadline’s crashing down on us. They need me back at the paper now. I’m going to go say good-bye to Henry, then get back to work.”
This seems like an overly thorough explanation, but something tells me not to question her. Kaiser looks a little suspicious as well, but his buzzing cell phone distracts him. He checks a text message, then says, “I’ve got to get back inside. Apparently Captain Ozan has been questioning hospital employees about Henry’s status. I need to call my SAC.”
I shake Kaiser’s hand, thank Jordan, then take Caitlin’s hand and pull her toward my car. She follows without resistance. Once there, I lean in and start the engine, but we stand outside, our breath fogging in the cold.
She raises her eyebrows in silent reproach. “Did you tell him anything about Henry’s files?”
“No.”
“The recording of Katy Royal?”
“Hell, no.”
Caitlin relaxes a little, then rubs her hands together. “Can you believe he tried to extort me like that?”
“Kaiser’s serious about nailing the Double Eagles. And he’s got a point. Without Henry’s files, he’s got one hand tied behind his back.”
Caitlin’s eyes flash. “I could say the same about the recording of Katy Royal, but you’re not giving him that.”
“You’re right.”
She looks around cautiously, then reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small photograph. When she turns up her palm, I see Henry Sexton with a rifle scope superimposed over his face.
“Where did you get that?”
“Someone sent it to Henry a few months ago. He was in New Orleans, looking into old real estate deals between Brody Royal and Carlos Marcello. He showed it to the FBI at the time, but they didn’t come up with anything. It’s one more thing to keep in mind when you confront Brody.”
“Thanks.”
“Have you talked to Kirk?”
“He’s waiting for me now.”
She gives me a long look. “Promise me you won’t give Royal anything that matters. You can’t trust him, Penn.”
“I know that.”
“Stop by the newspaper when you’re done. I can’t make any final decisions about tomorrow’s editions until I know where you stand with him.”
“I will.”
“All right, then.” Slipping the photo back into her coat, she stands on tiptoe and kisses me.
As she starts toward the hospital entrance, Jordan Glass gets out of a car to my right and follows her to the doors. Maybe Kaiser told his wife to keep an eye on Caitlin, or maybe she’s just concerned.
Shaking off my worry, I climb into my Audi, throw it into gear, back out of the space, and race out of the parking lot. As soon as I hit Highway 15, something in my chest comes loose. It’s not empathy for Henry, or grief over the woman he loved. The reckless attack on Henry—with Caitlin standing only feet away—has penetrated the most primitive fibers of my brain. I feel myself gearing down into survival mode, a state without sentiment, hesitation, or moral constraint. Instead of apprehension, I feel an almost surreal sense of calm.
The ambient glow of Vidalia fills the sky ahead, and the lights of Natchez flicker like stars high on the bluff across the river. Taking out my cell phone, I call Kirk’s number.
“I’m on him,” he says. “Still at St. Catherine’s. Whole family’s outside the ICU.”
“Randall Regan, too?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Are you still up for this?”
“Oo-rah, brah. Let the games begin.”
CHAPTER 84