by J. C. Fields
Kruger smiled. “So what are you looking for?”
“Emails.”
“Really? Why?”
“You’d be surprised what people put in their emails without knowing what they’ve revealed.”
“Have you looked at any yet?”
“No, but I have a little search engine sorting through them.”
Sipping his coffee again, Kruger remained quiet.
A full ten minutes passed while he waited for JR’s program to sort through the untold tens of thousands of emails. During this period, JR stood and poured a cup of coffee from the Mr. Coffee. He sipped, paused, took another sip, and smiled. “This is better.”
“Told you.”
“Still not changing.”
All Kruger could do was shake his head.
***
Director of the FBI Paul Stumpf was in his late fifties. At one time a dedicated marathon runner, he still maintained a lean body. But after having both knees replaced, he was starting to add a few pounds to his five-eleven frame. His hair was dark brown, perfectly styled, with the first appearance of gray around his temples. Rimless glasses sat on an unremarkable nose in front of arctic blue eyes. During Stumpf’s rise within the FBI, he and Kruger worked together a few times in their early careers. Now decades later, he was the director, thanks in part to an investigation Kruger solved four years earlier.
Normally a calm individual and slow to anger, he carefully analyzed situations before commenting or taking actions. This morning, he was anything but calm. Alan Seltzer, Deputy Director of the FBI, stood in front of Stumpf’s desk with his hands behind his back and listened to his boss rant, an occurrence Seltzer had never seen during his ten years of working alongside the man. He remained quiet as Stumpf paced and vented.
“I can’t believe what I just heard on the phone. I can’t believe it.”
Seltzer remained silent.
“The President actually ordered me to shut down an ongoing investigation. The President of the United States, for gawd sakes.” The pacing stopped and he glanced at Seltzer. “You heard him, didn’t you, Alan?”
“Yes, sir. I did.”
“What is he thinking? Just what the hell is he thinking? My gawd, we’re talking obstruction of justice, pure and simple.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Kruger has obviously struck a nerve somewhere with his investigation. How can Robert Burns Sr. have enough persuasion to make the President commit an impeachable crime? Can you answer that question, Alan?”
“No, sir. But I can tell you Burns is one of the largest contributors to the President’s election campaign.”
Stumpf stopped pacing and stared at Seltzer. “How so?”
“Millions.”
“How many millions?”
“Unknown. He’s donated through a variety of companies his corporation owns and all the money goes to a PAC.”
“How far along is Sean in his investigation?”
“He interviewed a Senate intern who acknowledged the son sexually assaulted her. She is under a non-disclosure agreement. Kruger asked her to nod or shake her head to answer his questions.”
Stumpf chuckled for the first time since the phone call. “Only Sean would think of that.”
“They can place the son at each of the universities at the same time the women vanished. Unfortunately, this information was deleted from the company records after Kruger started his inquiry.”
“So, he’s making progress.”
“Yes.”
“Does this remind you of another investigation Kruger made four years ago?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Remember what we did then?”
“Yes, sir. We officially took Kruger off the investigation and unofficially kept him on it. However, this time you and the Bureau are in a difficult position, Paul. Disobeying a direct order from the White House could get you fired.”
Stumpf started pacing again and was quiet while he moved.
“Yes, but the aspect of a vicious sexual predator being introduced into the U.S. Senate is more troubling than losing my job.”
Seltzer nodded. “This could come back to bite the President as well, Paul.”
“Yes, it could. Especially if certain members of the opposite party knew about it.”
“You have it on tape, don’t you?”
The Director nodded and paced a few more minutes. When he stopped, he looked at Seltzer with a smile. “Okay, let’s go to the conference room and get Sean on the phone.”
***
Standing on his back deck, Kruger pressed the cell phone to his ear with his shoulder as he listened to Paul Stumpf on the other end.
“I don’t want to pull the plug on this investigation if you feel you’re making headway, Sean.”
Taking a deep breath, Kruger calmed his initial reaction to the phone call.
“Paul, we’re dealing with an extremely intelligent individual. He’s manipulative and uses his father to divert attention away from himself. We’ve been able to access some of the company’s emails between Senior and Junior. They are… let’s say, informative.”
“I won’t ask how you accessed them.”
“Probably best.”
“So what’s next? I have to get back to the President with something.”
“We have to build a case against Junior. He’s the guilty one. I don’t think Senior’s committed any crimes, other than being unethical in his business and political contributions, which I’m not focused on.”
“The President was adamant we stop the investigation, unless you had positive proof of Junior’s guilt.”
“You know we don’t have it yet. We might have to actually catch him in the act of assaulting someone to get that kind of proof, and I don’t want to put anyone in harm’s way.”
“Then you have to officially shut down the investigation.”
Taking another deep breath, Kruger let it out slowly. “That is not the right move, Paul. You and I both know it.”
Stumpf was quiet for a long time. Kruger checked the phone to see if the call had ended. “Paul?”
“You’re correct, of course, it’s not the right thing to do. Can you get by with your current manpower?”
“Yes.”
“Then I will tell the President we are not putting any additional assets into the investigation.”
Kruger chuckled, “Sounds like something I would come up with.”
“I learned from the best.”
“Thanks, Paul.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Just make sure Burns doesn’t suspect he’s being followed.”
“When we have enough evidence, we’ll arrest him.”
“Get to the truth, once you have it, I can deal with the fall out. For now, stop this psychopath, Sean.”
“That’s the plan.”
Chapter 22
Washington, D.C.
Robert Burns Jr. stared out the window of the Uber driver’s Honda Accord. His destination was a trendy nightclub in Georgetown suggested by the hotel concierge.
The phone call from the candidate for his open Chief of Staff position created emotions not experienced in several years. She had been blunt about her reasons. After further research into his character and history, there was no way she would work for him. She even told him his reputation in Washington would make it difficult for him to hire any competent staff, no matter how high the salary. She wished him well and ended the call.
This was his father’s fault. His father had talked him into running for the Senate, and it was his father who greased the wheels of the election with millions of dollars for him to do something he simply did not want to do.
Old feelings exorcised from his psyche years ago flooded back. The old desires and needs bubbling up from the heat of his rage. When the Uber driver parked the car in front of the nightclub, Burns exited immediately without a word, his bill already settled with a credit card on file with Uber.
The din of the club assaulted his senses t
he minute he walked in. A smile came to his lips as he pushed his way through the crowd toward the bar. He was on the hunt, and it felt good. Several minutes later, he stood surveying the room, sipping on an incredibly expensive single malt scotch on the rocks. As he took in the crowd, he saw two intoxicated women sitting at a table, their arms animated as they tried to communicate with each other over the music.
Without hesitation, he walked over and sat down.
Two minutes later, both women stood and walked away from the table. Burns shrugged slightly and sipped his drink as he surveyed the area for his next conquest.
As he scanned the room, a tall slender woman stepped up to the table. Turning his attention to her, his eyes widened and he felt his heart race. Her hair was blond, cut in a pixie style exposing darker hair above her ears. The face was heart shaped, with a petite turned up nose, and full lips. Green eyes sparkling in the flashing lights of the nightclub. A form-fitting dress exposed cleavage and ended twelve inches above the knees of her muscular legs. Burns’ breathing rate increased. She bent over, exposing more of her breasts.
She spoke next to his ear. “Did your friends leave?”
He nodded and yelled so he could be heard over the thumping bass line of the music. “They’re in a relationship. No males allowed.”
She grinned and offered her hand. “I’m Linda.”
Shaking the offered hand, he replied. “I’m Bob. Want a drink?”
Sitting down next to him, she nodded.
***
Jimmie Gibbs slipped into the nightclub followed by Ryan Clark. Gibbs went left, Clark went right. Sandy Knoll waited in the car, a small radio receiver in each ear. His left ear would be communications from Gibbs and his right ear from Clark. He winced at the sound of the club in his ear, as it bordered on deafening.
Gibbs was first to respond. “Got him, he’s sitting at a table talking to a pair of women.”
Clark was next. “I see him.”
Knoll let the two agents assess the room before asking, “What’s he doing?”
“Just talking.” Gibbs spoke in a deep voice trying to overcome the background noise.
There was no communications from the inside team for a minute. He heard Clark. “Wait one.”
Knoll did not respond.
“They just stood and left.”
Smiling, Knoll nodded. “Good.”
“Hold the thought. Looks like they’re being replaced by a tall blonde. Damn, son, she is beautiful.”
“Hold your comments, Jimmie, we’re working.”
“Doesn’t matter, she’s gorgeous.” Using his cell phone, he took several pictures of the two, making sure he had a good photo of the woman.
Clark and Gibbs were quiet as they watched the woman bend over and talk into Burns’ ear. After shaking hands, she sat down and the target of their observation ordered drinks from a passing waitress.
Clark was the first to speak. “They’re leaning toward each other. The girl is smiling and laughing. Burns is animated, talking her head off.”
“Careful, Ryan, he might be plotting to take it off.” Gibbs smiled to himself after the comment. His concentration was on Burns’ lips, trying to read what he was saying.
Burns and the woman suddenly stood and headed for the front exit.
“They’re moving, Sandy, headed your way.” Clark started toward the exit when he saw something over Jimmie’s shoulder across the room. Before he could say anything, a man, similar in size to Knoll, approached Gibbs from behind.
“Jimmie, watch out…” Clark’s warning was useless as the large man started to clamp a massive hand on Gibbs’ shoulder. Instead of moving to follow Burns and the woman, he pushed his way toward his teammate.
***
Sensing something moving behind him, Gibbs reacted faster than the man who attempted to grab him. The hand barely touched his right shoulder before Gibbs’ left hand seized it and he spun around. The brute probably outweighed him by a hundred pounds, but skill and training overcame the disadvantage. Before the big man knew what had happened, Gibbs leveraged him around and pinned the larger man’s arm behind him.
He growled in his ear. “FBI, dickhead. You’re interfering with a federal investigation.”
The large man, surprised at the turn of events, shook his head. “You’re bothering our customers. You have to leave.”
Gibbs raised the arm further toward the man’s neck and heard an audible gasp.
Clark appeared with his FBI credentials and shoved them into the large man’s face. “What the hell are you doing assaulting a federal agent?”
The big man grimaced as he felt the tendons of his left arm stretched to the point of snapping. “Ouch… I’m security here, let me go, I’ll explain.”
As the crowd dispersed around the confrontation, Sandy Knoll emerged from the throng of people, his FBI credentials attached to a lanyard around his neck. He stood in front of the security man, crossed his arms over his massive chest, and leaned forward inches from the other man’s nose.
“Why did you attack a federal agent?” he demanded.
Knoll was actually larger than the man Gibbs still held immobilized.
“Let me go, and I’ll explain.”
Looking at Gibbs, Knoll nodded. The security man’s arm was released, and Gibbs stepped back several paces. By now the music was silent, and an odd quiet permeated the nightclub. The security guard rubbed his newly freed left arm.
“We have a two-drink minimum.” He twisted around and motioned with his head toward Gibbs. “He wasn’t drinking.”
Knoll closed his eyes and brought a hand to cover his mouth. After a few seconds, he lowered it and touched his ID. “You have got to be kidding me.”
The other man shook his head. “Sign’s on the door.”
Knoll turned to Clark. “See if you can spot Burns. They may be long gone by now.”
Clark nodded and headed toward the door.
Returning his attention to the security guard, Knoll asked, “Does this establishment have an agreement with any working girls?”
The bouncer shook his head.
Gibbs leaned close to the man and warned, “Careful. Don’t add lying to a federal agent to the assault charge.”
The security guard jerked his head back and stiffened. “I didn’t assault you.”
“So you say. You put your hand on me without my permission. Not good in a judge’s eye.”
The man blinked rapidly several times and continued to stare at Gibbs.
Knoll asked again. “Hey, does this establishment have an agreement with any working girls? Answer me.”
Returning his attention to Knoll, the man nodded.
“Do you have their names and addresses?”
“Nothing in writing. Just a verbal agreement.”
“Shit. What’s her name?”
“Linda Smith’s all we know.”
Knoll frowned and turned to Gibbs. “We have to find Burns and the woman. She may be in real danger.”
“Got it.”
He started toward the exit, but before he left, he heard the security guard ask, “How’d you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Twist me around so fast.”
Gibbs smiled and leaned closer. “Boy Scouts.”
***
When Knoll and Gibbs returned to the agency Tahoe, Clark was already there, his hand pressing a cell phone to his ear. When they approached, he held up his index finger. “Yeah, Sean, we lost him. Can JR track Burns’ cell phone?”
Silence as he listened to the response. “Yeah, tell him to hurry. The lady with him may be in trouble.”
Again, silence returned to this side of the call.
Knoll broke the quiet to ask, “Can he track it?”
Clark nodded. “He’s having the phone pinged right now. If it’s on, we can get a direction.”
“Good.”
There was a sixty-second silence. The only sound was the renewed muffled sound of music coming fro
m the club.
“Got it,” Clark jotted something down on the back of one of his business calls. “Yeah, we’re headed that way. Ask JR to see if he can pinpoint it further. I’ll call you back in a few.”
Ending the call, he handed Knoll the card. “We need to head south on 495. JR’s trying to pinpoint it. All he can do right now is tell us the phone is in Camp Springs.”
“Got it, let’s go.”
***
The Motel 6 hallway smelled of cigarette smoke, stale beer, and Pine-Sol. Linda handed Robert Burns the keycard with a smile.
“I like to keep this little get-away ready for all kinds of occasions,” she said. “It isn’t fancy, but it is quiet. Is that okay with you?”
As Burns opened the door, he smiled and turned back to her. “Fine with me.”
Standing aside, she walked into the room as he followed. After locking the door, he noticed she had already taken her shoes off and was unzipping her dress. It fell to the floor, revealing a skimpy bra and thong.
Burns felt a stirring in his groin as he watched her. Still with her back to him, she undid the bra and turned. Holding the cups against her, she smiled. “Like what you see so far?”
He nodded but remained where he stood.
She threw the bra aside, revealing her breasts. “Come closer so we can get acquainted and have a little fun.”
Stepping closer, he stood in front of her while she unbuckled his pants. When she reached inside, the blindness took over. He slapped her so hard, she fell back onto the bed. Before she could scream, he clamped his hand over her mouth.
“Oh yeah, I’m going to have fun.”
Chapter 23
Camp Springs, MD
The agency Tahoe screamed south on 495, its recessed emergency lights flashing and siren blaring. Knoll concentrated on driving while Clark stayed on the phone with JR. “Okay, we’re heading south on 495, approaching Suitland Parkway.”
JR’s voice was calm. “Ryan, you need to exit 495 and get on Allentown Road.”