He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax, to drift.
Half asleep, his mind went to Tulsa the day of the bombing. Of course, his memory was sketchy because of his stupid mistake but there had to be something he had overlooked.
Something that might help them find what they needed to bust this phony scam of a case wide open. The reality was neither he nor Scarlett were investigators—they were the hired guns—but they needed to think like detectives if they were going to come out the other side with anything worth saving.
What purpose would it serve to make a public spectacle out of closing a loose end?
Assuming that whoever was behind the bombing was the same man McQuarry had been seeing on the sly and was a powerful person in Washington, why draw attention to McQuarry’s murder?
Unless he was killing two birds with one stone?
What was currently happening in world events?
Xander mentally flipped through his mental cache of details that were hitting the headlines: gun control, Russian influence on American politics, smartphones destroying kids’ abilities to concentrate, street gang violence, international terrorism, the polar ice caps melting at an alarming rate... The list was endless.
But what did any of those have to do with McQuarry?
A bomb sent a message.
A bomb spread fear.
Fear caused people to react without thinking.
Creating fear was the most effective way to push an agenda that otherwise might’ve failed.
When the Twin Towers fell, the Patriot Act rose from the ashes like a phoenix, casting its eagle eye on the American people under the guise of offering protection against further terrorism; but in reality what it did was give the government carte blanche to spy on anyone it chose without needing proof of wrongdoing.
Bye-bye right to privacy. But hey, that’s the price of safety.
And the people, still shaking from the terror of the 9/11 attacks, gladly sacrificed their freedom for the illusion of safety because, let’s get real, there was nothing that could truly protect people from any and all threats.
However, people needed something to cling to and the government had been only too eager to provide that protection for the tiny price of sacrificing one right that they’d never even notice was taken.
So, if someone were trying to push an agenda what possible benefit could anyone have in creating fear in the American people, yet again?
Instability was a potent motivator.
Xander gently climbed from the bed, his mind fighting against the lethargic pull of the meds in his system.
There was something there—a tiny spark—that wouldn’t let him shut down, even though he desperately wanted to close his eyes and sleep for a few more hours.
Maybe they’d been thinking too small because the idea of a bigger threat was too overwhelming.
If McQuarry had been a pawn in a dangerous game of politics, the corruption could very well go straight up the chain.
Xander shivered at the implication. Only someone with deep resources could’ve framed Xander so neatly, using his past against him, transposing his fingerprints onto the explosives and accomplishing his objective with so little blood on his own hands.
Xander brewed a cup of subpar coffee and slugged it down to chase away the cobwebs in his brain. The bitter sludge made him chuckle silently. Scarlett wouldn’t touch this swill. For a tough soldier, she was surprisingly picky about her coffee.
Donning his jacket, he slipped out of the motel room. He needed to poke around and Scarlett needed quality coffee. Time to do as the politicians did and kill two birds with one stone.
Chapter 17
Zak frowned at the intel in his hand, pursing his mouth at the disturbing information. CJ walked into the briefing room and caught Zak’s expression.
“Did you just find out that I was right and the lunar landing was filmed in a sound stage in Anaheim?”
Zak looked up briefly. “You gotta lay off the conspiracy theories. The lunar landing is well documented.”
“That’s what they want you to believe,” CJ countered with a wry grin. “Don’t be a sheeple, man. The truth is out there if you look for it.”
Zak groaned and shook his head, choosing instead to slide the printout toward CJ, saying, “Read this.”
CJ picked up the paper and scanned the contents, his brow furrowing as he finished. “What the hell is this?”
“Scarlett told me to chase down something and I did. This is the result.”
“You gonna tell Scarlett?”
“Of course. She needed the information for a reason.”
“Seems kinda of messed up to be digging into his personal business when we should be trying to save his ass.”
Zak nodded, feeling the same but, like Scarlett must’ve felt, something was off. He hated to think that Xander was lying to them all but hell, the bread crumbs were leading straight back to Xander and that didn’t sit well.
“Might as well get it over with,” Zak muttered, grabbing the burner to dial Scarlett. “Just like ripping a bandage off—quick and neat.”
“Yeah and with it, several layers of skin and hair.”
Zak agreed. “Sometimes.”
Scarlett picked up on the second ring. “Yeah?” The scratch in her voice told Zak she’d been sleeping but she was instantly into work mode. “What do you got?”
“I looked into that facility you wanted me to, Crossroads Medical.” He paused a beat, then said, “Yeah, so, I’ll just come right out and say it... Dr. Yarrow is known for being generous with his scripts for the right price. He prescribed a pretty high dose of OxyContin almost a year ago but according to records, the last prescription Xander filled with Crossroads was four months ago.”
The heavy silence that followed as Scarlett digested the information told Zak that Xander was still medicating in spite of the doctor cutting him off.
“Is he still using?” Zak asked, almost reluctant to know the answer.
“Yes.”
Zak swore under his breath. “That means he’s getting the drugs on the street and once you start paying for black-market pills, you’re paying through the nose to get them.”
CJ’s expression dimmed as he followed Zak’s end of the conversation, shaking his head with disappointment.
But maybe it wasn’t as bad as all that. Zak said, “Look, just because he’s getting the meds elsewhere doesn’t mean he’s an addict or anything. Legislature is cracking down on narcotic scripts and a lot of legit people are having to play fast and loose with the rules. It doesn’t make Xander a bad guy. How does he seem to you? Does he act like a junkie?”
“No,” she answered but there was hesitation in her tone.
“TL, now’s the time for honesty. Do you think Xander is a junkie?”
This time her voice was more sure. “No, but I think he’s hiding something and I think what he’s hiding is his drug use.”
“Well, to be fair, it’s not something most people would share for funsies.”
“I’m his boss. It’s my job to know if one of my team members is compromised—in any way.”
Zak could hear the recrimination in her tone and he knew she was beating herself up for Xander’s supposed bad judgment. “You’re going to have to triage this,” he said. “If he doesn’t seem like the drugs are affecting his reasoning skills, you got bigger problems. You can always tackle the drug issue once his ass is off the line. For now, your objective remains the same.”
“If he’s lying to me, it calls into question his integrity. If he could hide a drug problem from me, from us, what else is he hiding?”
She had a solid point, but he couldn’t bring himself to believe that Xander had any part in that bombing, no matter if he were a junkie. Besides, blowing up McQuarry, literally, made no sense from Xander’s side. No, t
he answers were elsewhere. The drug use was a personal problem—the bombing, a bigger issue.
“Do you believe that Xander could kill those innocent people?” Zak asked, going to the heart of the dilemma.
Scarlett didn’t hesitate. “No.”
“Then focus on clearing his name and then kick his ass later for the lying.”
It was a solid plan and Scarlett agreed, promising, “I’ll kick his ass so hard I’ll risk losing a shoe.”
“Something to look forward to,” Zak said, grinning. “In the meantime, try to save his ass first.”
Scarlett clicked off and Zak looked to CJ, saying, “If they manage to pull off the impossible and uncover who is actually behind all this, I almost feel sorry for the misery that Scarlett is going to rain down on Xander’s head for lying to her.”
CJ nodded. “Yeah, he might even wish he were in prison. At least then there’d be bars between them.”
* * *
Scarlett looked up as Xander opened the motel door and walked in holding a coffee in his hand. She accepted the coffee without a word and waited for him to speak first.
“Been awake long?” he asked.
“Long enough,” she answered, sipping her coffee.
“Long enough for what?”
“Long enough to get some information that I need to sort before we go any further.”
Xander dropped onto the bed, spreading his hands as if he had nothing to hide. “Okay? I’m assuming this has something to do with me?” At her nod, he said, “All right, hit me.”
“I’m just going to cut to the chase because we don’t have time to mess around with this anymore. I asked Zak to look into something for me and he came through with some information that I need explaining.”
“Okay?”
“Why’d you lie to me about your prescription?”
“I didn’t,” he said.
“Your last legal prescription was prescribed four months ago.”
“Yeah? What’s the issue?”
She pointed at the pills she knew he kept in his pocket. “Where are you getting your pills if you’re not getting them legally?”
Xander opened his mouth but closed it, his lips firming as he cast his gaze to the matted motel room floor. “I, uh, get them from an acquaintance. But I told you, I’m weaning myself off. It’s just taken longer than the doc was comfortable with because of all the new state regs. It’s nothing.”
“If it’s nothing, why have you been hiding this from me?”
“Because I’m not proud of it,” he admitted.
“We don’t have time for your pride,” Scarlett said, annoyed. “Just out with it.”
“Look, I told you, I hurt myself on my own time. I didn’t want to go to the Red Wolf facility because I didn’t want it on my record. I wrenched my back pretty good and Dr. Yarrow prescribed some pain meds. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal because you’ve made it a big deal,” she said, not budging. “Let me see if I’ve got the facts correct. You were cut off from your legitimate source and now you’re buying your stash from a drug dealer?”
He forced a chuckle. “Sounds so sordid when you say it like that.”
But she wasn’t laughing. Scarlett held out her hand, demanding, “Let me see your pill bottle.”
He stiffened. “Why?”
“If you’ve got nothing to hide, let me see.”
“This is ridiculous. You’re not my mother or my parole officer so let it go.”
Scarlett saw the sweat beginning to build on his hairline, the fidget he was trying to contain and her misgivings grew. “Give me your pill bottle right now or I walk and I give the FBI your location.”
She wasn’t messing around anymore.
“I told you to walk before now,” Xander said with a seemingly unconcerned shrug. “I’ve never asked you to stay. I mean, calling the FBI seems a little shitty but if you feel that’s what you need to do—”
“Cut the crap, Xander.” Scarlett slammed her fist down on the small table so hard it stung her hand. “I’ve proven to you that I’m on your side, but you’ve been lying to me about something and I think it has everything to do with these goddamn pills so just come clean!”
The tension between them grew.
“Scarlett, why can’t you just let this go?” he asked with a short groan, as if her questions were inconvenient as hell, which only pissed her off more. After all she’d done for him—and continued to do—he didn’t have the right to be irritated for her calling him on the carpet.
“Because I don’t like being lied to,” she returned with a hard look.
One way or another she was going to have the truth, even if it destroyed her faith in him.
They held each other’s gaze, neither willing to back down. If Xander was thinking he could win a test of wills, he’d be sorely mistaken.
Finally, Xander rose with an expletive, shoving his hand through his hair as he paced with angry short strides. “This is bullshit and none of your damn business. Let it go.”
“No.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
“What is the truth?”
Scarlett narrowed her gaze. “I’m not going to play this stupid game. You know what the truth is. Stop pussyfooting around and just spit it out.”
“Fine, Scarlett.” Xander stopped. “You got me. I’m a damn drug addict. Is that what you want to hear? Want to know the reason why I’m sketchy about my pill use? Because the day of the bombing I accidentally overdosed and passed out. I have no friggin’ clue what happened with McQuarry because I was knocked flat-out on my ass. How’s that for some friggin’ truth!”
Scarlett stared, shocked. “What?” she managed, her mouth dropping open for a moment. “What do you mean? Knocked out?”
“I mean exactly that,” he answered, his anger leaching into a flat tone as he sank back down on the bed, almost seeming defeated. “The plane ride jacked up my back and I could barely walk. It was a struggle to hide the fact that I was practically crippled. I took more pills than I should’ve and it knocked me out. So there’s no possible way I could’ve pulled off the bombing because...I was dead to the world. It’s a miracle I survived the blast with only a few cuts and scrapes. I was too close to the blast radius and should’ve been crushed by debris, but I guess my guardian angel was on-duty that day because I managed to walk away.”
Scarlett couldn’t believe what Xander was telling her. How had she completely missed the fact that Xander wasn’t 100 percent physically? What kind of TL was she that she missed that kind of crucial detail?
Bewildered and embarrassed by her own failing, she asked with confusion, “Why’d you lie?”
“C’mon, what was I supposed to say? That I have a slight drug problem and that I shouldn’t have been on the job but I was anyway because I thought I could handle myself? You and I both know how that sounds and I guess my arrogance was louder than my common sense. Plus, once I’d made my statement, I couldn’t very well take it back. I had to ride it out.”
“You could’ve told me,” Scarlett countered quietly, stung that he hadn’t trusted her enough to be honest.
“Scarlett, you were my boss. I didn’t want anything to come back on you. Honestly, I never thought this would come back on me the way it has. If I’d known someone was going to try to frame me for the bombing, I would’ve come clean the minute we had a private moment but that’s not how it played out and I had to roll with the cards that’d been dealt.”
She could understand his reasoning and his logic but it didn’t stop the hurt. The fact that it did hurt was more troubling than Xander’s confession. Why did it matter so much? She couldn’t afford feelings for Xander. She was his TL. Even if he weren’t being framed for murder, there was no future between them.
Swallo
wing the lump in her throat, she refocused. “Where did you go when I was talking to Williams?”
“You already know.”
She did but she needed him to admit it. When she stubbornly held her silence, Xander sighed and said, “I knew I had to replenish my stash. I went to score but I have already made the decision to check myself into rehab or whatever else I have to do once this situation is sorted and I’m not being chased by the FBI.”
“Easy to say. Why did you wait this long?”
“Arrogance, I guess. I thought I could handle it on my own. I was embarrassed. I didn’t identify with a drug addict. It wasn’t until I found myself supplementing on my own that I realized I had a problem and even then I thought it was manageable on my own. I was wrong.”
Xander was humbling himself. It had to be excruciating for someone like him—for anyone. She couldn’t imagine.
Now she had a decision to make. Trust Xander and take him at his word, even though he’d broken her trust, or simply walk because once trust was broken it was never the same.
“Xander,” she murmured, exhaling a shaky breath. “This is bad.”
“Why do you think I’ve been hiding it?”
“This only makes you look ten times more guilty.”
“Trust me, I’ve come at this from every angle possible. If I could prove that I was passed out at the time of the bombing, I could exonerate myself but then I’d lose my job and no one would ever hire me again. If I hold to the lie that I was on the opposite side of the amphitheater when it blew, I remain a wanted man. Either choice sucks.”
“Yes, but being a free man is better than an incarcerated one, even if you’re unemployed, right?”
“Not for me,” he answered with a definite shake of his head. “I need Red Wolf. Keeps me sane.”
She understood where he was coming from and knew he spoke the truth. The reason they were so good at their jobs was because Red Wolf was practically tailored for people like them.
It wasn’t as if they could take a regular civilian job and make it work.
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