He looked at the piles on his desk and sighed. Getting back to his routine meant clearing the backlog. He picked up the first document and got started.
He was too old to play basketball like it was a college scrimmage game. Two days later, Paul was still nursing a bruised ankle and silently replaying Dave’s jumper that had taken the game away in the last minute. Two years ago, even a year ago, he would have blocked the shot rather than watch it skim by his fingertips. Sam, on the other hand, had dominated the boards the entire game. Paul flexed the ankle. It was hard to be in charge and get old. It undermined his authority.
Sam stuck his head in the office door. “Boss, a letter in today’s mail. Rita’s office.”
Paul walked into Rita’s office two steps behind Sam. It was the same light green stationery, and Rita was gingerly unfolding it. She laid it flat and held it open with her pencil holder and her coffee mug at opposite corners. Paul offered Rita his phone. She took a picture of the letter and passed the phone back.
Agent Falcon—
My offer—I will send you twelve tapes if you can get the states to agree to leave it a federal case.
I want a different lawyer writing this agreement. I will let you choose the lawyer who represents my interests from the list of names below. Have him send two signed client representation letters and two signed copies of the deal agreement to the address below. I will send the twelve tapes and signed copies of the documents back to the lawyer.
L.S.
There were fifteen lawyer names, many Paul recognized as top defense attorneys in the country, a few were media darlings, and halfway down the list were three former state attorneys general all now running for political office. At the bottom of the list the name Jim Gannett had been handwritten in—a small smiley face beside the name, along with the words It can be like old times. Paul had to give her points for boldness. The guy who began the chase to catch her now acting as her lawyer.
Sam read the letter over Rita’s shoulder. “Is it even possible to get the states to waive the right to prosecute the murders, and do so without us telling them why we are asking?”
“We’re going to find out. Twelve tapes is a huge step forward.” Paul read the letter again, thinking about the lawyer problem. “Rita, take everything for prints. I’m going to head upstairs and show this to Arthur. Sam, work the address she gives for this reply, see what you can find out. The decision-makers are going to have to assemble to figure out an answer on this one.”
Early the next morning, Paul took the stairs up to Suite 906. Margaret smiled when he appeared and nodded toward Arthur’s office. “Go right in. They’re expecting you, Paul.”
“Thanks, Margaret.”
Paul entered Arthur’s office. “Good morning, Arthur. Director.”
He was surprised to see the VP sitting on the couch drinking a cup of coffee. “Sir.” Reece Lion was standing near the door, and Paul exchanged a nod with him.
“Tori will be joining us in a couple minutes. I felt we needed a few minutes to clear the air first,” the director said, and looked to the VP to explain.
“A polite way to put it, Edward,” the VP said. “I was in town to talk about the book, and this arrived.” The VP held up a sheet of paper. “I got emailed a letter, a duplicate of yours, I’ve now learned. Reece is tracing its origin. So far no other lawyer she lists has called to say they also received one.” He gave a wry smile. “I feel so special.”
The VP set aside his coffee. “Agent Falcon—Paul—I understand and appreciate why you didn’t tell me what was going on when I asked you about the lady shooter case. You kept your mouth shut about the tapes and the letters, and I admire that. It makes me even more glad I asked you to be the one to look into my autobiography. This is your case. If you want me to leave this matter, leave this email with you, and go away, I’ll do so.”
“I’m trying to figure out the reason she would have sent you a copy, sir.”
“The case began when I was the FBI director. She wants me to know what kind of deal she’s going to get since I didn’t catch her when I had the chance. My guess, it was a bit of a joke to put my name on the list, it caught her fancy, and she decided to send me a copy. The fact Reece can’t trace it says she knew there was very little risk in sending it.”
“Some variation of that is probably right,” Paul agreed. “She’s asking for another lawyer, so we’re going to have to give her someone off that list if we choose to honor her request. And twelve tapes makes me think we should honor her request.”
“How good were the tapes she has sent so far?”
“They were worth the deals she asked.”
The VP nodded. “So ask me to be her lawyer. She can hardly refuse since she put my name on the list, even if it was done tongue-in-cheek. I can represent her for the purposes of drafting a legal agreement that codifies the offer conveyed in this letter. It’s not an open-ended attorney/client relationship. It’s for the document only. I can make that clear with the client-representation agreement. I am her lawyer only for the purposes of turning a written offer she presents into a legal agreement with the Department of Justice. The most I’ll do as her advocate is try to convince you it is in your interests to accept her offer. But I won’t be negotiating on her behalf as her lawyer trying to cut a deal for her.”
Paul could tell he had thought this through and was making his pitch. What he wasn’t sure of was why.
“What she will get is an airtight agreement,” the VP continued. “She’ll get my best work, and I’m probably a better lawyer than some on her list. So take that into consideration if you choose me, but I’m not going to jam you up. I won’t be a media problem, leaking a rumor of this to the press. I won’t be using the case as a stepping-stone to my career. You will see the document I send her, and decide when and how I send it.
“Any lawyer you select is going to have his own agenda. I’ll tell you mine. I want her caught, or convinced to turn herself in. I want all the murders solved and prosecuted, and I want to stay involved with the case. That agenda will dictate my actions.
“I’ll require an agreement between myself and the Department of Justice that accepts that agenda, and just so nothing gets later tossed in court, I will state that agenda to her in writing in the client-representation agreement. I’m her attorney for the paper only.”
Paul broke in before the director could speak. “You won’t go rogue and contact her on your own initiative if you think we’re taking a wrong tack?”
“My word. You’ll control every contact I make with her.”
Paul looked at Arthur, then the director. “It’s better for us if this stays in-house. Security is already a problem. If the VP wants to be her lawyer, I suggest we let him.”
The director nodded. “Agreed. I appreciate this, Jim. I may need your help when it’s time to sell this to the attorney general.”
“You’ll have it. I’ll stay at my Chicago home for the next few weeks while this unfolds. Paul, you are welcome to set up in my office there. Or I will work here, as the documents are put together.”
“Your home, sir, if you don’t mind. It is lower profile than the Secret Service being here.”
The director poured himself more coffee. “Arthur, give Tori a call and ask her to join us. Let’s figure out how we deal with the fact our lady shooter wants the states to leave this a federal matter.”
Paul joined Sam and Rita in the small war room. “We’ve got two developments. Linda Smythe emailed a copy of her letter to the VP. He was in town to discuss his book with Arthur and the director. Since he’s now aware of what is going on, it’s been agreed that the VP will act as her lawyer for this offer. They’re still debating how to do it, but they will try to get the states to agree to leave this a federal case. They want the twelve tapes.” Paul grabbed a pen and added a note to the whiteboard. How did she know the VP’s email address?
“Any thoughts?”
“She wants her offers accepted. Who better for he
r to nudge toward being her lawyer than a former director of the FBI? She’s trying to guide where this is going,” Rita guessed.
“I know there must be a downside, but I don’t see it,” Sam said. “She wants her offers accepted, so she’s getting someone with clout involved. None of the other lawyers on that list could swing a decision, but the VP, the former director of the FBI, he might be able to influence getting her the deal she wants. It makes sense in its own way. My guess on the email address, we’re going to find she crossed with someone the VP knows and got access to the address.”
Paul hadn’t thought of it that way, but their instincts about why she had tried to involve the VP made sense. “I buy that logic,” he agreed. Linda Smythe wasn’t one to do something by accident. “She’s been planning the details. She would try to orchestrate the lawyer she wanted. One with influence in the agency to get this kind of deal. It makes you wonder what kind of deals she will seek with the remaining tapes.
“Assuming the states cooperate, we should have a signed agreement to deliver tomorrow. Let’s talk about the address where this package goes, and how we want to stage for it.”
Paul closed the door to his office. Ann didn’t answer a video call. He tried a secure call to her phone. “Paul, hi.” The line was filled with static and the background sound of traffic rushing by.
“Where are you, Ann?”
“Ohio.” She covered the phone and the words became muffled. “I’ll catch up with you.” Her voice firmed. “What’s the news, Paul?”
“She’s offering twelve tapes if the states will agree to leave the cases to be tried in federal court.”
“Twelve tapes.” He heard the smile in her voice. “That’s big.”
“It’s huge. They’re working to get the states to agree to make the deal without revealing it is the lady shooter case they are waiving rights to prosecute. The politics of it are tricky.”
“They’ll get it done.”
“I’m hoping they do. The agreement is being sent to a company that forwards mail, so she’s changing up her game a bit. Sam’s on the road to put his eyes on the current forwarding address, but I’m guessing she’ll change that address once or twice before the package is actually delivered.”
“A good guess.”
“What’s happening in Ohio, Ann?”
“Someone shot the Grange County sheriff in the back.”
“Please tell me you’re wearing a bulletproof vest.”
“Not an officer in the county without one on. There’s a rumor this was payback for an arrest the sheriff made last week, a highway traffic stop that turned into a human smuggling case. There’s an entire task force on that one. I’m on family detail, backtracking to help find his grandson who is hiking with friends. I’ve got them traced to a rest stop, and I’m about four hours behind them now. I’m just getting ready to take a hike and intercept them.”
“Please be careful.”
“The deputy with me is carrying a shotgun, and he’s got two dogs with him who would make Black howl for joy. I’ll be fine. They just needed another cop to give a hand as everyone is on more urgent tasks. The family isn’t going to rest easy until the grandson is back in town. So we’ll go get him. Cell-tower service fades out once you start hiking.”
“Call me when you can.”
“I will.”
“This one’s an interesting drop-off point, boss.” Sam was driving, and his audio was briefly cutting in and out. “It’s a farm, with the mailbox one of those that sits out at the road. The postman pulls up to it and reaches out to put the mail inside. I’m going to have to camp out in order to watch the box, so my plan is to simply install a camera in a tree focused on the box and spend my time in town. The road doesn’t give a lot of options for coming and going. If we know when she takes the package, we can locate her vehicle from the air.”
“Set it up, Sam. Although I’m beginning to wonder if she will let this package even get close to that mailbox. She’s using a forwarding company for this one and may simply hack their system and change the address to where the package is being sent.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Sam agreed. “This right now is almost too easy.”
Paul walked into the war room carrying a bacon-and-egg sandwich for a late breakfast. “Good morning, Sam,” he said, knowing the microphone picked up anything said anywhere in the room. He looked at the video of the mailbox. Yesterday he had seen a hawk briefly perch on the mailbox, scanning the surrounding field for prey.
“Morning, boss.”
Paul pulled out a chair and read the line of Post-it notes Rita had left for him. Nothing urgent needed his attention. “Any change?”
“I saw a chipmunk on the mailbox this morning. Seriously, it’s been three days. Our agreement should be here. The fact it’s not says she’s already got it.”
“I tend to agree with you.”
“Do you want me to come on back?”
“Until her twelve tapes arrive, there’s a slim chance something happened and she doesn’t have the agreement. You’d best stay put until we know for certain.”
“It’s not a hardship. I’m partway through the restaurant menu, and they do a really good pork chop.”
“I’ll be around if you notice anything.” Paul settled in to pick up reading the files where he had left off the day before.
Paul called Sam back later that afternoon. “Sam, Zane just called. The twelve tapes have arrived by courier. Come on home.”
Paul watched Rita add another name to the list on the board and smiled. “Nice.”
“Give me another couple days and there will be twelve new names. The tapes were worth the deal, boss.”
“I’m inclined to agree with you.” They would have twenty-two out of the thirty murders solved when she was done. The fact they happened years ago didn’t reduce the satisfaction by much. “Anything I can get for you?”
“I’m good, boss. I’m finding voice comparisons for Nathan to use, and he’s working through the tapes one by one. It’s not every day I get to solve a stack of old murders. I’m enjoying this.”
“Sam?”
“Our files have decent background information for the names Rita is listing. But until we can serve warrants and start using this information, there’s not much else to do. I doubt we hear from our lady shooter again until she thinks there’s been time for us to look at all twelve tapes.”
“It’s going to be a few days,” Paul said. “I want to ask a favor of you both. I want to make a fast trip south to see Ann. I’ll be back Sunday evening. Can you two manage this for the weekend?”
Rita smiled. “Got it covered, boss.”
Ann had found the grandson, then stayed to help the task force. There were three dead cops now, and while she promised she was working only on the analysis and was not out in the field, he could hear the weight of it in her voice when they talked. Paul thought it would be over soon, for most law-enforcement agencies at the federal and state levels were working the case now. If it ended, and Ann was able to return home this weekend, he wanted to be there to meet her.
“Appreciate it, guys. You can reach me by cell if something serious comes up.”
24
That’s her call sign. She’ll be descending through the clouds in about a minute,” Jason noted, pocketing his radio and picking up the blocks he used to secure the plane. “She made good time.”
Paul nodded his thanks for the news and straightened from where he leaned against his car. He watched the small plane land at the private airstrip outside her hometown. She set down center line of the runway and taxied toward the hangar.
Jason walked over to meet her. When she came to a stop, he put blocks under the wheels. A few minutes later she stepped out. “I’ve got it for you, Ann,” Jason offered.
“You sure?”
“I’ve got time.”
“Thanks. Logs are on the clipboard and fuel goes on my bill.” She pulled a bag and a satchel from the plane.
>
She hadn’t seen him yet. “Ann.”
She looked up and stopped, surprise crossing her face, then pleasure. “You’re a long way from home, Falcon.”
“Missed you enough it seemed like a good idea to travel, and Neva was agreeable to a guest for the weekend.” He took her bags. “How about pizza and cold soda at your place, and we’ll share it with Black.”
“Okay.”
“Ride with me. We’ll pick your car up tomorrow.”
“Even better.”
He put her bags in the back seat and held the passenger door for her. He could tell she had not slept well on the road. There was a hollow look around her eyes. He was glad the case was over.
He left the airport and turned onto the highway. “Where do I pick up Black?”
She stirred. “He’s still at the house. Friends stopped in to get the mail and let him outside. He probably slept the entire time I was away, so expect him to want to play.”
“I’ll enjoy that.”
She visibly relaxed as he turned down the road to her home.
They ate pizza on her back patio, enjoying the evening breeze and watching the sun drift low in the sky. The case had drained her and left her bone tired; he could see it in the way she only partially engaged even with Black, her thoughts lingering on what she had left behind. There was a price for being the MHI, and she had paid it in full this week.
He tossed the ball for Black again, then took both plates inside, stored the remaining pizza in the fridge, and returned with the wrapped peppermints that had come with the delivery. She unwrapped hers with a quiet thanks. “I’m glad you came.”
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