“Go ahead. You haven’t exactly handled this case by the book yourself.”
“You’re right. My ass is on the line, too, thanks to what happened tonight. But you’d better pray that Washington doesn’t pull me out of here. Because whoever they send to replace me will see you as an absolute liability. They won’t give you the time of day, much less help your father.”
I wave my hand dismissively and walk toward the hall that leads to the exit. “Can somebody give me a ride to City Hall? Royal’s men stole my Audi, but I’ve got a city car I can use.”
“I’ll drop you when I take Caitlin,” Jordan Glass calls from behind me.
“Thank you.”
Kaiser starts to protest, but Jordan shushes him.
After I round the corner, I pause and lean against the cold wall. Jordan Glass’s angry voice floats around the corner.
“John, that was too much.”
“Somebody’s got to save him from himself,” Kaiser replies. “Caitlin, are you really okay? I heard it was pretty bad in Royal’s basement.”
“I’m fine,” she answers in a taut voice.
“They got Henry’s files, huh?”
She doesn’t answer at first. Then she says, “I saved the box with the burned journals in it. But there’s not much left.”
“Penn told me Royal paid somebody to delete your backup files from the newspaper’s computers?”
“That’s right.”
“If you’d like, I can send you some Bureau techs who might be able to reconstruct those files. If you’re still willing to share them, of course.”
“Seriously? They can do that?”
“Maybe. Since 9/11, we’ve spent billions on technology aimed at restoring lost data, or partially destroyed evidence.”
“I won’t turn down the help.”
“Good,” Kaiser says, sounding like a kid who’s been told he can open his Christmas presents early. “I’ve got two techs here in town, and if we need more talent, I’ll get some headed this way from D.C.”
“Okay. Look, I really need to get back to the paper now.”
“All right, but I need to drive Penn myself. He and I aren’t finished, as much as he might wish we were.”
At these words I nearly bolt from the building, but something keeps me in the hallway. If Kaiser wants to keep talking, he either needs to ask me something more or reveal something he hasn’t given up yet. I hope it’s the latter.
By the time they round the corner, I’m far down the hall, waiting by the front door. Jordan has taken Caitlin by the arm; she looks like she’s escorting an accident victim through a hospital. Jordan smiles as they reach me, but the expression looks forced.
“Hold up, Mayor,” Kaiser says from behind them. “I’m going to drive you.”
I’m too tired to argue, even for show.
“Hey, Penn!” Sheriff Dennis calls from around the corner. “Come back down here a sec. I forgot to get you to sign a form.”
“Go on to the car,” I tell Caitlin.
She gives me a fragile smile, and before Kaiser can stop me I trot back to Sheriff Dennis’s office. The rusted-spring sound of the front door opening follows me around the corner, and then I see Sheriff Dennis moving quickly up the hall, his big legs churning, a white piece of paper in one hand and a pen in the other. As he reaches me, I hear Kaiser’s footsteps behind me.
Walker hands me a pen, then holds the paper up against the wall for me to sign. He’s standing so that his big body will be between me and Kaiser, should the FBI agent come all the way around the corner.
“That sucks about your car,” he says in a conversational tone. “I’ll see if we can find it for you. Those assholes probably dumped it somewhere not too far from Lake Concordia.”
“I just hope it’s not in the river,” I reply loudly. Then I whisper, “Is tomorrow’s raid still on?”
“You bet your ass. Be here five hours from now, ready to rock and roll.”
“You going to tell Kaiser about it?”
“Not on your life, kemosabe.”
My heart swells with gratitude. “Thanks, Walker.”
Kaiser’s footsteps round the corner.
“Get some sleep, brother,” the sheriff says in a man-to-man voice. “You earned it tonight.” Then he calls to Kaiser: “You guys keep your eyes open out there.”
Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I walk past Kaiser without a word. Seconds later, the FBI agent catches up to me at the front door. When I push it open, a blast of cold wind hits my face, then cuts through my collar like a blade.
“I wonder where Ozan’s got to,” Kaiser says. “Wherever he is, he’s talking to Forrest Knox, you can bank on that.”
“I feel like I can still smell the fire,” I say to myself, “even though it’s ten miles away.”
“Closer than that, as the crow flies,” says Kaiser. “But you’re smelling yourself. That wind stirred it up.”
Raising my coat sleeve to my face, I realize he’s right. “So what’s this about? I thought we’d said all we had to say.”
Kaiser turns and gives me a piercing look that has nothing to do with officialdom. “Unfinished business. We’re about to go through the looking glass, Mayor. And on the other side, we both tell the truth, regardless of consequences.”
He seems to want a response, but I offer nothing.
“What do you say to that?” he asks.
“It’s about fucking time.”
CHAPTER 9
“COLONEL, WE GOT trouble.”
On the roof of state police headquarters, Forrest Knox pressed a satellite phone harder against his good ear—most of the other he’d lost in Vietnam—and spoke in a controlled voice. “Give me specifics, Alphonse.”
“I went to the CPSO,” Ozan explained, “just like you said, and I tried to take over the case.”
“But?”
“That Agent Kaiser was there, the same FBI prick who was at the hospital after Sexton was shot.”