Seeing Red

by Sandra Brown

  “You’ve got to understand, Hank,” Glenn said, virtually pleading. “That’s how this guy operates. If he tells you to do something, you’re already indebted. You’re already in. At least I was. The only option is to say yes, unless you want the sky to fall, not just on you, but on someone you care about.”

  “Admit it, Dad, you were a coward.”

  “Goddamn right,” Glenn fired back, no longer imploring him for understanding. “Wilcox had me sign a pledge, but not before covering all the signatures above mine. You don’t know who he’s got watching you. He says it keeps everybody honest. There was no one—no one—I could trust with this. First person I confided in could be the one watching me, and, like Trapper said, I’d be found looking like a sausage patty under a freight train. Or you. Or your mother.”

  Hank looked both frustrated and fearful, but he stayed silent.

  Trapper let Glenn catch his breath, then said, “You upheld your end of the bargain.”

  “Wasn’t really a bargain, but, yeah, I began conveying information on The Major, but it didn’t feel like spying, because nothing he did or said aroused suspicion. There was never anything noteworthy to report. Months would go by when I’d forget about Wilcox. But he didn’t forget about me. The first time my loyalty was tested was when you joined the ATF.”

  “Wilcox was keeping tabs on me?”

  “Not until he learned you were with the bureau. Then he was on me for months. ‘What’s this about John Trapper going into the ATF? What does The Major say about it?’”

  “You came to see me,” Trapper said. “You brought a bottle of cheap champagne to celebrate my being inducted.”

  “I’m ashamed to say that I was fishing. I reported back to Wilcox that your interest in bombs and such was natural, seeing as the Pegasus had so impacted your life. That didn’t pacify him, though. Periodically he would ask me to find out what you were working on. I held my breath, fearing you’d start looking into the Pegasus.”

  “Then I did.”

  “Then you did,” he said with unnatural huskiness. “I didn’t know for certain, but I had an inkling that was what was causing you trouble inside the bureau. The best day of my life was when you were fired.”

  “Yeah, that was a real party.”

  Glenn had the grace to look remorseful. “Forgive me, Trapper. It got Wilcox off my back. When The Major retired and went into reclusion, I thought, ‘Thank Christ. I’m reprieved.’”

  “Until I appeared on the scene,” Kerra said quietly.

  Glenn sighed and gave her a rueful smile. “You didn’t know it, but when you entered the picture, so to speak, you might just as well have put a bullet in my head. It ended my life as I knew it.”

  Chapter 30

  The more Glenn talked, the deeper Trapper felt the cut.

  Maybe he’d never professed it out loud, but he loved the guy. To hear all this hurt. He wished he could be someplace different, doing something different. If he could be someone different, maybe the laceration wouldn’t be so painful.

  His heart was bleeding.

  But he had to keep at it. Glenn had betrayed not only their close relationship, he’d betrayed his oath of office and the law he was duty-bound to enforce. Trapper wouldn’t let him make excuses for that.

  “Sooner or later, Glenn, one way or another, you would have been found out. Don’t put it off on Kerra.”

  “I don’t.” When he reached for his glass, Hank said a cautionary “Dad,” but Glenn ignored him and took a drink. To Trapper, “When you told me The Major was going back on TV, I was surprised but not panicked. Dutifully I called Wilcox to let him know. He wasn’t overjoyed, but, like me, he didn’t think it was cause for alarm.

  “But when I told him that Kerra Bailey was doing the interview, it was like I’d launched a rocket up his butt.” He turned to her. “That’s when he told me who you were and why he didn’t want you and The Major comparing notes, especially on live television.”

  “I interviewed Wilcox barely a year ago,” she said. “He never let on that he knew I was the girl in the picture.”

  “I don’t know when or how he made the discovery,” Glenn said. “But he knew, and it made him paranoid as hell that you’d be one-on-one with The Major.”

  “But why?”

  “He feared that if you began swapping experiences about that day, one or the other of you would realize something was out of joint.”

  She looked over at Trapper. He said, “That’s why I tried to warn you off doing it, remember?”

  Glenn said, “Wilcox really got nervous when I told him it was Trapper who’d alerted me.”

  “That explains why you were so upset the night of the Bible study, Dad.” Hank looked at Trapper. “You sent Tracy in to tell me that he was hitting the bottle pretty hard.”

  “I asked her to be discreet.”

  “She was. She whispered it to me while someone else was talking. The study concluded about ten minutes later.” Going back to Glenn, he said, “I asked Emma to head off Mom so she wouldn’t catch you drinking. When I came here to the kitchen, you nearly bit my head off. I figured Trapper…” He looked over at Trapper, his implication clear.

  “It had to be my fault that Glenn was getting drunk,” he said. “This should be enlightening to you, Hank. Now do you understand what’s been ‘eating me’ and burdening your dad?” He turned back to Glenn. “What was it like for you, plotting with Wilcox to kill The Major and Kerra?”

  Glenn made a choked sound that was half belch, half sob. “I swear to God, I didn’t. I told Wilcox to keep his cool, told him I would check into the situation and get back to him. I went out to The Major’s house the following day. You were there,” he said to Kerra. “The Major didn’t introduce you to me as the girl in the picture, just as Kerra Bailey, ‘I’m sure you’ve seen her on TV.’ That kind of thing.

  “I reported back to Wilcox that we didn’t have a problem. Y’all didn’t know. Kerra wanted to score an exclusive interview with The Major and had somehow sweet-talked him into it. That’s basically what Trapper had told me, too. But Wilcox was still antsy.”

  “That’s why you came to my room at the motel,” she said.

  “I wanted to see how you would react when I mentioned the big surprise you had planned for Sunday night’s audience. You didn’t ask me what big surprise, you only acted miffed that I knew about it.”

  “I had expressly asked Trapper and The Major not to tell anyone else.”

  “In any case, I had my answer, and I had to tell that snake-eyed son of a bitch,” Glenn said. “The Major might not know who you were, maybe the surprise would be on him, too, but we could expect the big reveal come Sunday night.”

  Glenn covered a dry cough with his fist. He shifted in his seat. He reached for his whiskey but let his hand drop before picking up the glass. “Wilcox told me to take preventative measures to be sure that didn’t happen.”

  His admission dumbfounded Kerra.

  Hank’s head dropped forward, and he clasped his fingers together on the back of his neck.

  Trapper got out of his chair, rounded it, and gripped the top rung, tempted to pick it up and bash it over Glenn’s head.

  “One thing I don’t get,” Trapper said tightly. “Why didn’t you attack before the interview instead of after? How did you even know that Kerra would still be in the house?”

  “I didn’t attack anybody.”

  “You just said—”

  “You didn’t let me finish.”

  Trapper spoke over him. “Oh, wait. You wouldn’t have done it yourself. You sent those three flunkies out there to do it.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Jenks and who else?”

  “I didn’t send anybody.”

  “Ever at the ready, Deputy Jenks—”

  “Be quiet, John!” Glenn banged his fist on the table hard enough to rattle the glassware, then took a deep breath. “For once, will you shut up and listen? I talked Wilcox out of doing anything. O
r I thought I had.” When Trapper would have interrupted again, Glenn held up a hand. “Let me talk.”

  Trapper was seething, but he made a grand, sweeping go-ahead gesture.

  Glenn turned to Kerra. “I told Wilcox that you’d shown me the questions you intended to ask. I gave him a run-down of what they entailed, told him they were chatty, innocent, nothing mysterious. They wouldn’t raise eyebrows or red flags or pose a threat to anybody. I urged him to let the interview proceed as scheduled.

  “By contrast, if tragedy were to strike you and The Major within days of you going on TV together, it would be like ringing a fire bell, and the FBI would come running. A data analyst couldn’t ignore a coincidence like that, and the feds wouldn’t depend on a department as small as mine to investigate the double murder of two celebrities. They would take over, and that would create a media frenzy like none other.”

  “Which is exactly what’s happened,” Trapper said. “Obviously Wilcox didn’t heed your caution.”

  “Obviously. But he led me to believe that he agreed with my reasoning. He threatened me with dire consequences if I was wrong, but said he would trust my judgment. We hung up, and I took a huge breath of relief. Crisis averted and no one was the wiser.”

  Still addressing her, he raised his right hand. “On my solemn oath, I had nothing to do with what happened to you. I knew nothing about it until after the fact.”

  She looked up at Trapper, and he knew that she was remembering, as he was, that Wilcox had denied ordering the attempted assassination. Were both Glenn and Wilcox telling the truth about that? Or were both lying?

  Trapper leaned down and placed both palms on the tabletop. “Why didn’t you warn The Major, Glenn? You could have told him you had a gut feeling. Or a nutcase had called the SO and issued a threat. Something.”

  “I did caution him. Roundaboutly. I suggested he keep a pistol handy in case he had to ward off any paparazzi. Made a joke of it, but advised him to be vigilant till the interview was behind him.

  “I kept several units out there patrolling for hours before the telecast and until the crew left in the van. I thought it was over and done. Nothing had happened. I called everybody in. That must’ve been what they were waiting for.”

  “They,” Trapper said. “Who?”

  “Whoever Wilcox sent,” Glenn said. “He pretended to go along with my recommendation, but he doubled down. Even if I had told him I would do it, he knew I wouldn’t.”

  Trapper snickered. “You suddenly grew a conscience?”

  “No. I gave up my conscience a long time ago. But kill my best friend? And a woman?” He looked at Trapper with imploring eyes. “How could you think I would do that?”

  “I wouldn’t think you could make a pledge to Wilcox, either. Or wasn’t it as sacred as your solemn oath?” Mimicking him, Trapper raised his right hand.

  “The pledge extended to spying, not killing.”

  Trapper’s initial reaction was to verbally lash out at that, but arm-wrestling his temper into submission, he rounded the chair and sat back down. “Do you think Leslie Duncan was one of the three at the house?”

  “We’re not firm on there being three.”

  “There were three,” Kerra said.

  “Answer the question, Glenn,” Trapper snapped. “What about Duncan?”

  Glenn hesitated just long enough for Trapper to jump on it. “Did you set him up?”

  “No.”

  “He was caught with the pistol all but smoking.”

  “Wasn’t me.”

  “And my bag,” Kerra said.

  “Wasn’t me.”

  “This morning—”

  “Look,” Glenn said, dividing a look between him and Kerra. “I’m still wearing the badge, so I have to go through the motions. But that guy is too obvious. And Kerra said his voice was wrong. Do I think he’s being framed? Yes. Am I doing it? No.”

  “Someone in your department?”

  “Must be.”

  “A Wilcox puppet?”

  “Must be.”

  “But you don’t know who?”

  “No.”

  Trapper didn’t quite believe that, but he let it pass for the time being and moved on. “Why’ve you been bloodhounding Kerra and me?”

  “Because I’m afraid for you! For Kerra because they missed her the first time. For you because you came charging into town, breathing fire, making scenes, second-guessing every-goddamn-body, but especially me, and absconding with our only material witness.”

  Glenn aimed a finger at him. “Don’t think for a minute I believe that cock-and-bull story about you finding Kerra’s earring under her hospital bed. You went to the crime scene, didn’t you? Don’t bother lying. I know you did. And you were out there again today.”

  “Jenks told?”

  “He did.”

  “I hope he found the transmitter, and that he was up to his neck in sewage when he did.”

  “Transmitter?”

  “The tracking device you put on Kerra’s car.”

  Glenn looked over at her with puzzlement, then came back to Trapper and raised his shoulders. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, but I wish I had thought of it. Because all you’ve been doing is making a bright red target of yourselves.”

  Glenn had worked himself into a lather. Suddenly he flattened his hand against his heart. Trapper sat forward. Hank exclaimed, “Dad?” Kerra reached toward Glenn with apparent concern, but he waved her off. “I’m fine, I’m fine. They’ve got me on anti-anxiety pills.”

  She said, “You shouldn’t be combining those with alcohol.”

  “Maybe he’ll listen to you, Kerra,” Hank said. “He won’t listen to me.”

  Trapper noticed that the angry archangel who’d slugged him this morning now looked defeated, but he doubted Hank’s dejection was solely for his father’s sake. Glenn’s treachery was going to be bad for Hank’s business. The offering plate yield might be lighter.

  After Glenn regained his breath and fortified himself with another belt of whiskey, he continued, speaking directly to Trapper. “This morning, in my talk with The Major, he told me you’re still trying to build a case against Wilcox. That true? What have you got?”

  When it became apparent that he wasn’t about to respond to that, Glenn sat back in his chair, and his expression turned ineffably sad. “I don’t blame you for not confiding that. I wouldn’t trust me, either.”

  Trapper didn’t let himself be emotionally moved. “Where does it stand between you and Wilcox now? When was the last time you spoke to him?”

  “As I was speeding out to the crime scene. I called from my unit, demanding to know what the hell he’d done, what was I going to find when I got out there? I was furious, heartsick. I was screaming, bawling, cursing him to perdition.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He claimed not to know what I was talking about. He hung up on me and hasn’t answered his phone to me since.”

  Trapper thought on that, then asked Glenn if he and Wilcox had ever met face-to-face other than that first time.

  “No. I hope I never have to look into those eyes again. Made me shiver.”

  Trapper glanced at Kerra, then said to Glenn, “You may find him changed since the death of his daughter. What do you know about that?”

  “Only that she died,” Glenn said. “Never knew the details, and I didn’t send flowers.”

  Trapper pushed his chair back, pulled on his coat, and motioned for Kerra to do the same.

  Glenn looked up at him with bleary-eyed apprehension. “What happens now?”

  “You resign, Sheriff Addison.”

  “Will I face criminal charges? Will I go to prison?”

  “I don’t know. Won’t be up to me.”

  “How much do you have on Wilcox?” he asked again. “What do you have? How incriminating is it?”

  Trapper didn’t answer him.

  “The reason I’m asking is…” Glenn wet his lips. “Maybe I could help you, Joh
n. We could work together. Partner.”

  “Until tonight I thought we were.”

  The brutal but truthful words seemed to crush him. His chest caved in. “Tomorrow, I’ll put together everything I can remember about Wilcox, everything I know. If I help you make your case, and you deliver Wilcox hogtied to the authorities, maybe they’ll let me plead out.”

  There were tears in his eyes. He was all but begging, and Trapper wouldn’t be human if he weren’t affected by his mentor’s humility. “Whatever else happens, Glenn, you resign tomorrow. You’re not entitled to wear a badge a single day more.”

  “What’ll I give as a reason?”

  “Health. You had a close call today. It woke you up to priorities.”

  Glenn nodded. “The other? My turning state’s evidence?”

  Trapper kept his expression neutral. “I’ve got to deliver Wilcox first. I do…” He shrugged. “What they do to you or to anyone else who signed his fucking pledge won’t be up to me.”

  “I love your dad,” Glenn said, his voice cracking. “I love you like a second son. I would never have let anybody harm either of you.”

  Glenn waited to see if Trapper was going to say or do anything in response to that. But anything he said would come out laced with either anger, sarcasm, or heartbreak. He didn’t trust himself to speak at all.

  “Well.” Glenn pushed himself out of his chair. “I’m going to bed. Tomorrow’s going to be an eventful day.” He took the bottle of whiskey with him as he shuffled out of the room.

  Hank set his elbow on the table and rested his forehead in his palm. “So much for my tabernacle.”

  Trapper took a step toward him and would have leveled the self-absorbed son of a bitch if Kerra hadn’t stepped between them.

  “It’s time we left, Trapper,” she said.

  Trapper looked down at Hank with contempt. “Couldn’t agree more.” He guided her through the mudroom and outside.

  Chapter 31

  Trapper had driven them in the maroon sedan, choosing it over Kerra’s car, which still had to be hot-wired.