The Words I Speak (Anyone Who Believes Book 2)
Page 27
After nearly twenty-four hours of federal agents exchanging these confused and disconcerted looks, Willow was beginning to discount their significance. She was feeling that her direct line was better than the information these two senior agents were being fed. They seemed at a loss for what to do or say next.
To everyone’s relief, their supervisor, Mulroney, the special agent in charge of the Denver office, entered the room, his shiny forehead nearly the same color as the pale green door. He only glanced at Willow, as if afraid to make eye contact and surrender some of his secrets. He spoke to the two agents, instead.
“They want her in Washington,” he said. “Two Secret Service agents are on the way from the airport right now.”
That was just the sort of escalation the FBI had been anticipating, the special agent in charge had been balancing on a tight rope, trying to keep his hand in a big case while still following orders from Washington. He was going to lose his big catch now. But maybe he looked a little relieved, thought Willow. This stress was really messing with Mulroney’s ulcer.
At the height of her own stress that morning, just before the FBI came to pick her up at home, she received a surprising text from a number she didn’t recognize. It said, “If they put you away this time, I’m brakinyou out. Bobby.” She knew Mulroney needed a good laugh like the one Bobby Nightingale gave her in that text.
“Is she under arrest?” Kellan said, not as concerned about the special agent’s ulcer as Willow. “What’s the charge?”
Mulroney looked at Kellan from the corner of his eye, staring that way for a few seconds. Willow could tell that he didn’t like Kellan and wasn’t inclined to answer him honestly.
“The Secret Service guys will tell you about that,” he said. Then he turned and left the room.
The other two agents, beginning to resemble a comedy team, looked confounded. They tried clearing up their questions in each other’s baffled eyes. It didn’t work. They followed Mulroney out of the office without another word. The intense agent did try a parting shot with his laser eyes, but seemed to know it was ineffective and gave up quickly.
Kellan took a deep breath and let it out. “I don’t think they have anything on you. This guy they have in custody can’t possibly have any connection to you. They must know that by now.”
Though his words were all reassuring, Willow could tell that Kellan was anxious.
She smiled at him. “I’m not worried. Everything is gonna be just fine.”
For a moment it looked as if Kellan was going to give Willow one of those eye rolls that the FBI agents had been practicing all day, but instead he smiled. He reached for his cell phone in his breast pocket and tapped the screen. He was thinking of his wife. But there was no signal in that room, certainly by design.
They passed the next few minutes talking about Kellan’s kids and his plans that had been abandoned for that weekend. Willow didn’t apologize, she trusted that Kellan was speaking honestly when he assured her that she didn’t have any reason to be sorry for calling him. She told him about her sense that things were going to work out well in the coming week for Kellan and his family, not certain of the specifics, but clear on the feeling of freedom and relief they would experience.
The door to the interrogation room opened again. But, instead of the caffeine-wired agents, a man and a woman with big smiles on their faces greeted Willow and Kellan.
“Ms. Pierce?” said the woman. “I’m Agent Carver of the Secret Service, and this is Agent Milleville.” She extended her hand as if she were going to take Willow to see some real estate in the area.
“It’s an honor to meet you,” said Agent Milleville.
That phrase seemed so strange at the end of the day-long saga Willow and Kellan had endured, that neither of them understood what the agent meant.
“You’re here from Washington?” Kellan said. That question slipped out automatically, in place of the real questions he was having trouble forming.
Willow stood up and smiled as broadly as the two agents. It seemed that Kellan was the only one not ready to celebrate.
“Wait, what...?” he said.
Agent Carver interrupted. “You can relax now, Counselor.” She gave him a smile that might have actually provided the relaxation she was advocating. “The President wants to meet Ms. Pierce, to thank her in person.”
Willow could tell that Kellan was feeling a chill up his spine. She felt it too, even though she had suspected this was what came next. “I’m glad things worked out and no one was hurt,” she said.
“That’s one of the biggest understatements I’ve heard in a long time,” said Agent Milleville. He laughed openly.
“We have a jet waiting at the airport, and we’d love to have you accompany us,” Agent Carver said, as if a formal invitation were necessary.
Kellan finally stood up now, shaking his head and smiling with his mouth open half an inch. Willow laughed at him and patted him gently on the back.
“You can go home and see those kids now,” she said.
“Is there anyone else you’d like to bring with you?” said Agent Carver.
A sudden flash of Annetta meeting the President nearly made Willow laugh out loud, but she thought seriously of bringing her mother, and she thought of Scott.
“Once we get out of here, I’ll make a couple of phone calls,” she said.
Thirty years ago she hid her identity in order to escape a life of torture and disgust. Now she would head into the limelight with her mother at her side, connecting the old Willow, the one named Wanda, with the new Willow.
And she would try to persuade Scott to accompany her too, bringing in an even newer Willow, one who had not yet lived, but who planned to start... very soon.
Acknowledgements
Thanks to my brother-in-law, George Makolondra, retired Denver Police Officer, for help with some of the police logistics. Thanks also to Laurie Visher for her excellent professional proof-reading.