He lets out a little laugh. “See, that’s exactly why we wanted you. You’ve got a spirit about you, Thomas. Oh, by the way, you should know that the organization has agreed to assign you a security detail. You won’t realize they’re watching you, but they’ll be around. We can’t let one of our star writers get attacked again.”
My face flushes with anger, though I try to hide it. “I don’t need a security detail,” I say. “That woman was crazy, and now she’s dead. End of story. I don’t have any other enemies, and I don’t want to be watched twenty-four hours a day. I need my privacy. Even the police pulled off their security detail.”
“It’s out of my hands, Thomas. I’ll relay your concerns to the board, but most of their PR people have some sort of security. You don’t think we pay Bishop all that money for his looks, do you? The man consults on our security. It’s amazing how the message of peace can create such hostility and violence. By the way, he’s a bit ticked with the nurses for not letting him in here.”
“About that, Kinsley. I told them not to let him in,” I say. “I was looking forward to talking with you, but let’s just say I’m not at all comfortable around him. It’s nothing personal. We’re just very different, and it’s going to take me awhile to get used to him. I don’t think it would be beneficial to me for him to be here. Every time I get excited, they stick a needle in me, and I’m off to la-la land.”
Kinsley laughs. “He’s not the most charismatic person, is he? He takes good care of our people, though. I’ll be back in a few days to see how you’re doing. I know you want to work, but the doctors are going to want to keep you around for a while. Maybe we can give you some research, or you can start writing some speeches for our other talent while you’re in here.”
“Okay, that sounds good,” I say.
“Oh, one last thing,” he says. “It’s our job to know things. For example, I know you care deeply for the Fischer family, including Stacie. I understand that, and I understand that what happened was traumatic for you. With that being said, it’s time you said your permanent good-byes to them. You have a new life now. You need to consider your relationship with that family dead.”
Something tells me his word choice is calculated. I start to get upset, but before I can mutter anything, he raises his hand. “Thomas, let me be perfectly clear. This is not a suggestion. They are not a safe environment for our people to associate with. They have a different agenda from ours.”
“You’re telling me that you have to approve my friends?” I ask.
“Yes, to be blunt. I am. You’ve been seeing individuals who are detrimental to this enterprise, and we can no longer tolerate it. That’s one thing you’ll have to understand. Who you associate with is the business of our affiliates. Look, in six months you’re going to be associating with people you never could have imagined. You’re going to be in the inner circle of inner circles. Somebody like Stacie could never understand the things you’ll be privy to.”
I can’t think of anything to say. A moment later, Kinsley says, “Good day, Thomas. Get better.” And he turns and walks away.
CHAPTER 23
An Unexpected Offer
How was your breakfast, Thomas?” Mary asks the next morning as I finish picking over the food on my tray.
“Delightful,” I respond. “Is it already time for my rehab work?”
“No, not yet. There are two people here to see you. I think one of them is a law officer of some sorts. He says it’s very important that he talk with you.”
I sigh. “I’ve already told the police everything. They didn’t mention anything about needing to follow up with me.”
She sees the exasperation on my face. “I know. But I think you should talk with these two. I’ll send them away if you want, though.”
“No. They’ll just hound me at some other time. Send them in,” I say with some despondency.
I don’t recognize the first man when he enters the room. He’s a stocky black man of average height. He’s handsome, which is probably why he found favor with Mary. It suddenly dawns on me that I don’t really have any African American friends. I know plenty through my profession, but I’m not close to any of them. How strange it seems to me at that moment. I’ve always been in the camp that criticized right-wing political groups as racist, but I never examined my own heart. Was it simply a matter of our circles not overlapping? Did I actively not pursue relationships that I should? Or was it because I simply don’t have many friends at all, and my behavior certainly doesn’t lend itself to people wanting to be close to me?
I don’t ponder this question for long, because the second person who walks through the door leaves a blank stare on my face.
It’s Ashley. She looks different, though. Her hair is now brunette. It’s also much shorter. I’m sure they can see the stunned look on my face. I hadn’t even thought of Ashley until Jason questioned me and mentioned the twenty-five thousand dollars.
Seeing Ashley now brings that day’s events back to me like a landslide. Everything that occurred on the day of the shooting was designed to get Ashley some money and get her out of the country. That morning’s events quickly replay in my mind. Josephine’s cold, dead eyes. I see her pulling the pistol out of her handbag. I hear the first shot. I feel Mike shove me out of the way. I hear the second shot. I feel my shoulder crash onto the floor. I feel the pain in my shoulder. I hear the third shot. I hear Stacie scream. I feel my body getting tired.
I fall back in my bed. “It’s okay,” I hear the man say as he reaches toward me.
“I’m fine,” I say. “I just saw and heard and felt the shooting again.” I’m not sure why I’m so honest with these two people. One is a stranger. The other I don’t trust.
“I never made it to the airport,” Ashley says with a hint of a grin.
The man motions to Ashley to shut the door. He says, “Good morning, Dr. Fields. It’s kind of you to meet with us. My name is James Horace. I’m with the FBI.” He shows me credentials, but I have no idea if they’re genuine.
I’m uncomfortable. Did Ashley give him my name? Did she tell him I had anything to do with Andrew’s and Megan’s deaths?
“Should my attorney be here?” I blurt out.
“I’m not here to interrogate or arrest you. I’m here because I need your help.”
“I’m listening.”
“Before I ask for your help, I need to tell you a few things,” he says. “I need you to keep this information to yourself. By telling you this, I’m putting people’s lives in danger, and I’m putting an operation at risk. Can I trust you?”
I try to be honest with him. “I’m not sure.”
“I’m going to have to take that as a yes, because I’ve got no choice. You’re our best lead at the moment.”
“Lead for what?” I ask.
“Before I go into that, my partner needs to tell you a few things.”
My partner? Did I hear that right? What does that mean?
“Thomas, I’m very sorry about what happened to you and your friend,” Ashley begins. “That was terrible. I want you to know that I never wanted any of that for you.”
I nod, feeling annoyed with all the secrecy swirling in the room.
“This might be hard for you. I’m not Ashley Hammonds. My name is Allison Davis, and I work for the FBI. James and I are partners.”
I hear the words, but I can’t process them or put the pieces together. I guess my confusion is apparent.
“Our meeting in Dallas, at the party, was a setup. I’m not an escort. I was undercover. My job was to get to know you and find out what you knew about the organization that hired you. You were not hired by First Orchard. First Orchard is a shell charity, one of many covers for another organization known as the Principal or the Temple. We believe that this organization is tied to numerous illegal activities. Fraud, terrorism, money laundering, and espionage, just to name a few. They are far more dangerous than you can imagine.”
“You lied to me,” I s
ay.
“Yes, I did. I had to, but I’m telling you the truth now.”
“That day in my office. Needing to escape the country. You were using me. You made a fool of me.” I feel anger welling up in me.
“I needed to find out where your loyalties lay,” she explains. “We didn’t know if you had been converted by the Principal or whether you had doubts about them.”
“I’m guessing you don’t have a sister?” I ask.
“I do. She’s alive and well and living on the West Coast with a husband and three kids. I’m sorry I had to lie, but it was the only way to get the information we needed and to keep you safe.”
“Keep me safe?” The irony in my voice is thick. “I’m lying in a hospital bed and my friend is dead! And you’re talking about keeping me safe! I should have you thrown out of here!”
“We had no idea about Josephine. She wasn’t involved in any of this. Like I said, I’m very sorry for what happened to you and your friend, but that wasn’t in our scope of investigation,” she responds.
I’m not finished, though. “You almost got me killed by leaving your purse in my office. You almost ruined everything. If that’s the way you keep people safe, you aren’t very good at your job!”
She pulls a mobile device out of her purse and presses a button. I hear Kinsley and me talking in my office on that day. She recorded our conversation.
“Why the money and the plane ticket?” I ask.
“We had to know,” she says.
“Had to know what?”
“We had to know if you would be willing to help someone against the Principal,” she says. “It would have been one thing to say that you oppose them. It’s quite another for a person to put themselves at risk. We needed to know where you stood. We also needed to make sure that you weren’t going to set me up. We were watching the restaurant to see whether you would show up with the Principal.”
“And now Mike is dead because I was trying to help you,” I spew at her.
James interrupts. “Mike is dead because a deranged woman tried to kill you, Dr. Fields.”
I’m too tired to argue with him. “What about that night in Dallas? Was Andrew trying to help you? Is that why he’s dead? Was Megan undercover as well?” I pepper them with questions.
Allison answers, “What I told you about the party and that night is accurate, except for who I am. No, Andrew and Megan were not working for us. Megan was employed by an escort service the Principal uses regularly. We’re not sure why they were killed, but we are fairly sure that the Principal killed them and staged their deaths in a car accident. I think it will be a matter of time before the Dallas police releases their names. Of course, the police will never connect the murders to the Principal. It will go down as an accident. There are people on the force that will guarantee that.”
I am dumbfounded. Several days ago, I thought I had everything under control, that I could keep my friends and myself safe. Now it appears I’ve been played by several different organizations. I’m just a pawn in a very big game. I have no control over any of this. I stare at them for a moment.
”And now you’re here because you need my help?”
“That’s right,” James says.
Still venting, I add, “You lie to me and then come here and ask me to keep something quiet. Now, you’re asking for my help. You’re unbelievable. How are you different from the Principal?”
“We like to believe that we’re the good guys,” he says.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, losing patience.
“We want your help in bringing them down or at least significantly disrupting them,” he says. “We know that you’re supposed to become a key member for them. We want you to do everything they ask, but also provide us with information.”
“You want me to spy for you?” I ask.
“We want you to do your job, but provide us with information while you do that job,” Allison says.
I scoff. “I would call that a spy. You must be desperate if you think I can help. You have the wrong man for the job. What makes you think I could do this even if I wanted to? I’m a teacher and a writer. I don’t know the first thing about working undercover.”
“You’re a brilliant, confident man who can earn the trust of the Principal through your hard work,” Allison says. “All we’re asking is that you occasionally provide us with information we can use against the Principal.”
Flattery works slightly, but still I’m not convinced. “Why should I help you? I mean, the smart thing for me is to tell them about this conversation. If I’m really a brilliant man, that’s the smart play. So what’s in this for me?”
They stare at each other for a minute. Then James hands me his phone and pulls up a photo album. “Flip through those photos. I believe you know the woman.”
I recognize the woman immediately from the first photo. Paige. But something is odd about what she’s doing in the photos. Finally, it dawns on me. “She’s watching someone.”
“Very good. Yes, we’ve noticed her watching someone for the past several days,” James confirms. He then takes the phone and opens another album. “We were able to get access to her phone and download the images from it.” He hands me back his phone.
My heart leaps to my throat when I see the first picture. I recognize the building in the background. I sit up higher in my bed and hunch over the photo. “That’s Stacie Fischer’s apartment, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” James says.
I flip through more photos. They’re all pictures of Stacie. Her apartment, her car, her office. There are many pictures of her involved in various activities.
“I don’t understand why Paige would have these,” I comment.
“We think Paige is working for Kinsley McKee,” Allison says. “We don’t think she is aware of the depths of the organization. However, she’s sending this information to Kinsley.”
“But what does it mean?” I press.
“We think Stacie is in danger,” Allison sighs. “We believe the Principal is going to kill her. More precisely, we believe Kinsley and Bishop, as you know them, are going to arrange her murder. We haven’t seen any leads to suggest this is a full-blown Principal initiative. Based on some of the messages we’ve intercepted, we believe that as soon as you’re out of town, they’ll eliminate Stacie.”
“Why? She isn’t involved in anything. This makes no sense,” I plead.
“We thought so as well,” James says. “We were starting to wonder if the Principal was getting reckless, which is very unlike them. We have a theory, though.” He pauses to gauge my interest.
“Please,” I say.
“We believe Andrew came across some information that posed a threat to the Principal,” James says. “Based on Andrew’s Internet searches, it looks like he was digging into the Principal’s associations. Our guess is that Andrew stumbled across something that made the Principal nervous. Based on what Allison was able to learn from Megan over a couple of evenings, Andrew was talking too much about sensitive information. The Principal ultimately took him out. They weren’t satisfied with that, though. They ransacked his apartment, and we believe they want to get into his office at the university. He must have had something they want back. We’re not sure what it is. We’re concerned, and this is where our theory gets stretched a bit, that the Principal believes that whatever information Andrew had, he either told you about it or gave it to you. Maybe you didn’t even realize he slipped you something.”
“If I have it, whatever it is, then why not go after me? Why go after Stacie?” I ask.
“They need you, and so far you’ve been a good soldier. What they fear is, because Stacie has access to you, she might come across this information. In Paige’s texts, we found a reference about Stacie and Mike letting themselves into your apartment. Our guess is that they’re worried either you gave Stacie or Mike the information or they might stumble onto it themselves. Obviously, with Mike gone their focus is on Stacie. Like I said, it�
��s a theory. Maybe you can fill in some blanks for us.”
“How can I help?” I ask.
“Did Andrew give you any information about the Principal?” James asks.
“Perhaps. There’s no way Stacie knows about any of it, though,” I tell him.
“It doesn’t matter whether she does or doesn’t. It only matters what the Principal thinks,” he replies.
“If you know all this about the Principal, why don’t you arrest them?” I ask.
“It’s not that simple,” James says. “We don’t have anything concrete on them. We don’t have enough to make it past a grand jury. If we show them the pictures on Paige’s phone, she could simply chalk it up to jealousy. If we find a very lenient judge, we might be able to get a restraining order on her, but there’s no way they would make the connection to conspiracy to commit murder. If we were to take this to court, all of our information would be compromised, and how we got that information would be exposed. Our operation would fall apart at that moment. It would paralyze us. Even if we were successful with this prosecution, ultimately we could get convictions only on some low-level operatives. The organization would strengthen itself, and the upper echelon would further protect themselves. We need information about the higher-ups. Only when we get the key players can we disrupt their network.”
“I understand why you want me to help you get to the inner circle,” I say, “but how does my involvement help Stacie? Her safety is what concerns me most.”
“Our agency goes to great lengths to protect the families and friends of our assets,” Allison says. “You would be an asset. If Stacie is important to you, we could protect her.”
My blood pressure rises. “Let me get this straight. You know they may have ordered Stacie killed, but you can’t do anything because her life isn’t valuable to your operation. But if I work for you, suddenly her life becomes valuable?”
She looks at me and says, “I’m telling you how the world is, not how the world should be. If you want to change the world, then join us.”
Inside Lucifer's War Page 19