The Alex Troutt Thrillers: Books 4-6 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set Book 2)

by John W. Mefford

  Vandiver and I were in a stare-down. The veins at his temples were pulsating. Actually, he was the one making it a competitive exercise. I was merely standing up to the bully with the short fuse. But I had reason to prove some point. I wanted action.

  I picked up the menu, scanned it quickly, and popped my finger about two-thirds down. “I’ll have the Cobb salad, Dana. And a coffee, along with some water.”

  “And you?” Dana said to Vandiver, although I could see her trading winks with Archie. Did they have something going on more than just a flirtation? Damn, Archie was like a retired Kentucky Derby winner…nothing less than a stud with women lined up for his enjoyment. Or so it seemed.

  “Umm…” Vandiver finally turned his sights to his own menu. “Cheeseburger and fries. And a Coke with no ice.”

  “Archie, anything for you, dear?”

  “I’m good with just sucking on the teat…I mean milkshake.” He showed his teeth, which drew another wink from Dana before she walked off.

  That only pissed off Vandiver that much more. “See what I mean? How this guy ever worked for the CIA....it’s a frickin’ miracle he kept his job as long as he did.”

  Archie’s whole body slumped downward like he’d been kicked in the gonads.

  “Vandiver, you’re crossing the line.”

  “Stay out of it, Troutt.”

  Now he was pissing me off. “Listen, you thick-headed Neanderthal, this guy here saved my life on more than one occasion and served this country better than most agents I’ve worked with.”

  “Pfff.” Vandiver leaned back. He was blowing me off.

  “Thanks, Alex,” Archie said. “But it takes respect to gain respect, my dad always said. If I’m not respected, I guess I’m done working with your agency.”

  “It’s not mine. It’s his,” I said, pointing a finger at Vandiver.

  Archie took out his wallet and opened it up. It was empty. Then he pulled out a credit card. “I’m ready to go. How about you?”

  “Hold on,” Vandiver said just as Dana arrived with the food. She set the plates down and didn’t linger.

  I sipped my coffee while Vandiver took a large bite from his burger.

  “I might have been a bit hasty. I’m…you know.” He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Sorry?” Archie said with a raised brow.

  “Yeah, that,” Vandiver said as he shoved more burger into his mouth. How long had it been since he’d eaten?

  I nibbled on my salad. “I want this mission to be successful, Vandiver. I think we can help each other.”

  He nodded while chewing his burger, then he downed a gulp of his Coke. “This operation has been so top secret that there’s only a handful of people who know about it.”

  “Why?”

  “This Camp Israel group has their tentacles everywhere, it seems. That’s the strange part. They live like they’re Amish, but somehow they have their ear to the ground. Any time we’ve pulled together more aggressive plans, they’re one step ahead of us. It’s been frustrating. We have some evidence that shows the leaders of this place might have been running a money scam for two decades or more. Which means tax evasion, fraud, and a whole list of crimes.”

  “So that’s the tactic we’re using now on places like Camp Israel?”

  “We?” he asked.

  “Yes, we, the FBI. I might be on vacation, but I can see when the Bureau is running from its past.”

  He took in a breath—finally—and then used his napkin to wipe the edges of his mouth. “To be frank, there’s some truth to that. Those of us who work in districts where this type of group exists have been told to tread very carefully. The PR can spin out of control faster than you can say FBI.”

  “David Koresh and the Waco disaster,” I said.

  “Exactly. It was a fucking fiasco. With all the media on site watching every little move we made, spreading rumors or lies, it was just…unworkable. Did you know that at one point a radio executive actually got on the horn and tried to negotiate a deal with Koresh and his top lieutenants? A radio guy.”

  “What the hell does a radio guy know, other than turning a bunch of dials?” Archie asked.

  Half-smiles all around the table, and the tension dropped a couple of degrees.

  “So, I’m going to be transparent with you,” I said, fidgeting with my napkin. “It’s about my mom. There’s some evidence that suggests—”

  Vandiver held up a hand. “I know.”

  “How?”

  His eyes shifted to Archie, who lifted his shoulders, then took another slurp of his milkshake.

  “Thus, my apprehensions on his ability to maintain secrecy,” Vandiver said.

  “Good point,” I said, as I turned and looked at Archie.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. Can we move on?” Archie said.

  I wasn’t finished, and I turned my attention back to Vandiver. “The question is, why haven’t you guys done anything about the allegations into the crazy shit going down at this camp? People held captive, women treated like slaves, rape…not just once, but repeatedly.”

  Vandiver set his napkin down and sipped his Coke. “First, we did not have solid proof of what you describe.”

  “Does the name Claudia Nesmith ring a bell?”

  He paused in the middle of chewing for a quick second, his eyes trying to stay focused on his food.

  “Claudia Nesmith,” I repeated.

  Anchoring his elbows on the table, Vandiver just looked at me, nodding.

  “Do I need to say the name again?”

  “I think we’ve got it,” Archie said, patting my arm. I glanced over at him, and he quickly got the picture—I wasn’t in a touching mood.

  Vandiver sighed. “It’s not what you think. We didn’t bury our heads in the sand. Not completely.”

  I folded my arms on the table. “There’s more, right?”

  “Look, I work out of a small satellite office in Clarksburg, under the umbrella of the Pittsburgh Division. My small team covers eighteen counties in total, including Tucker County where Camp Israel resides.”

  He held up a finger to sip his Coke, or bide time to cover his tracks for ignoring the crimes at Camp Israel.

  “I’ve only been in this position for about five months. Before that, the agent in charge, Prescott, was…kind of a bull in a china shop. He took a hardcore approach and didn’t like anyone getting in his way, whether that be management from another office, other law enforcement agencies, possible suspects, or even potential victims.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  He pressed his lips together. “I guess since we’re all, more or less, on the same team, I can tell you this. Prescott and the rest of us had heard rumors of some of the things you described. The Pittsburgh office tried to come in and take over the investigation, but Prescott wouldn’t have it.”

  “Who the hell was calling the shots?”

  “I think Prescott just wore them down until they finally agreed to let him run it, but they said he had to provide evidence of wrongdoing before any approval for search warrants or any type of confrontation.”

  “Claudia was that proof.”

  “It’s not as clean as you’d like to think.”

  “Nothing is if you don’t want it to be.”

  “I’ll ignore the dig, but when she disappeared, there was a lot of discussion, which led to arguments with family members and internally within the FBI about whether she left on her own volition. And because of who we were dealing with and the history of the Branch Davidians, no one took action because no one could show probable cause that a crime had been committed.”

  Dana walked by and held up the carafe of coffee. My cup was still almost full, so I waved her off.

  I couldn’t let it go. “But once Claudia escaped, wasn’t she your hammer to nail those bastards to the wall?”

  Archie slurped up the last few drops of his shake, drawing derisive stares from me and Vandiver. “Like Alex said, why not pursue the case with Claudia?” />
  “That’s where Prescott really fucked up.”

  “An admission of wrongdoing, finally. Let me give you a standing ovation,” I said.

  “Do you want to know the truth or not?”

  I flicked two fingers toward me. “Spit it out.”

  “Prescott had the charisma of a bear. Everyone in the office knew it; we just had no clue why the Pittsburgh SAIC didn’t see it and move him out of the position. Maybe since Prescott was out of his immediate sight, it was easy for him to not think about him and the issue at Camp Israel”

  “What happened?” Archie asked.

  “Prescott set up a meeting with Claudia and her sister…”

  “Hank.”

  “Right, a boy’s name. Anyway, he apparently threw up all over her. Didn’t apologize for not recognizing she had been held captive, and even blamed her for not trying to collect any tangible evidence.”

  “What an ass,” Archie said.

  “The meeting went downhill from there. He actually seemed surprised that she wouldn’t cooperate after that.”

  “Are you aware that she and Hank believe the leaders of this cult have essentially put out a hit on her and that she’s living in a secret location?”

  He rubbed his forehead. “I’ve come to learn that, yes. But now we’re stuck. We can’t get the authority to pull together a significant operation without that proof, yet she won’t talk to us.”

  “She doesn’t trust you…well, the FBI in general.”

  “I know, I know. I’ve tried talking to Hank on four different occasions, and she wouldn’t budge. In some respects I don’t blame her. It’s just a big cluster.”

  “I’ve talked to her.”

  His hand dropped to the table, and the plates rattled. “Claudia? How? When?”

  “Within the last two days. She’s scared as hell, but I convinced her that I would stand by her side every step of the way if she came forward.”

  “You turned her?”

  “Kind of. She’ll come forward if we can get one other person to come forward.”

  “Your mom.”

  I nodded. “Now you’re connecting the dots.”

  “You’re pretty smart, Alex,” Archie said.

  I subtly shook my head, signaling that now was not the time to hand out praise.

  “But do you know for certain she’s in that compound?” Vandiver asked.

  “Claudia said she met a woman named Beulah. There is evidence that my mom went by that name. Claudia is almost certain the woman in this picture I have is the woman she saw.”

  “Can I see it?”

  I handed it over, and within a couple of seconds, his brow furrowed.

  “This picture must be…”

  “Over forty years old. I know. But Claudia seemed pretty convincing.”

  Vandiver scratched his chin as he eyeballed another patron walking by our table.

  “I’m not asking to take over your investigation—”

  “Good, because that wouldn’t happen. Or to put it politely, it would take a direct order from Washington.”

  “I only want to be kept in the loop and provide support. I’ve been around; maybe you could use me.”

  He raised an eyebrow and glanced at Archie. “Is she always this crafty?”

  Archie turned his palms to the ceiling. “I plead the Fifth.”

  Vandiver rolled his eyes.

  “So I understand you want to send Archie back in,” I said.

  “I do, yes. We didn’t get much intel last time. Weather didn’t cooperate. But I just wish we knew who shot at the two of you before we plan anything.”

  “No leads on your end?”

  “With so few resources at my disposal, it’s difficult. Plus, we don’t want to run and show off a huge FBI presence. On top of that, I’ve got virtually no pull with local law enforcement. It’s another trust issue.” Vandiver rubbed his forehead again. He was clearly stressed.

  “I’ve got my team back in Boston working to pull together the members and elders at the church near the motel. That’s where we think the sniper was positioned.”

  “You’ve got a team working on this? I don’t know whether to hug you or worry that you’re putting the operation more at risk than Archie here.”

  Archie put an elbow on the sill and looked out the window, shaking his head. He’d get over it.

  “I’ll share whatever I get as soon as it comes in,” I said, pulling out my phone. No new text messages or voicemails since we’d been in the diner.

  Vandiver’s face lit up. “Okay, cool. Thanks, Troutt.”

  “Alex, please,” I said, placing the phone on the table.

  Dana dropped by again. “Can I get these dishes out of the way?”

  I looked at my salad. The lettuce was soggy, and I picked up a foul odor from the eggs on top. “It’s all yours.”

  She grabbed my plate and Vandiver’s plate, which only had crumbs on it. She then looked at Archie. “Want another, Arch? It can be on the house,” she said with an alluring tone.

  “Well…”

  My phone buzzed and vibrated.

  “A text from Gretchen,” I said.

  Was Dana looking over my shoulder? I glanced up. “We’ll take the check.”

  “But what if I want another shake?” Archie actually stuck out his lower lip.

  “How old are you?”

  “Old enough,” Dana said. I turned and found her wrinkling her nose at Archie the gigolo.

  “We’ll just take the check as soon as you can get it to us.” I waited until she walked away, and then I read through the text.

  “What does it say?” Vandiver obviously had my level of patience.

  “Okay, so there are a hundred twenty-five members of the church, but only seven have keys, including a secretary who is eighty-nine years old.”

  “So I guess we’re down to six,” Vandiver said.

  “There’s more,” I said, thumbing the screen up. “Here are the names of the six people. The pastor, the music director, and four elders. All men.”

  “Big surprise,” Vandiver said.

  I could feel warm air on my neck. “Can you give me some breathing room?” I asked.

  Archie pointed at the screen and opened his mouth, but no words came out.

  “What is it?”

  He started choking, then grabbed my water and downed what was left in the glass, although a fair amount spilled down his shirt. Even after he set the empty glass on the table, his breaths came out as if he’d just run a marathon in the West Virginia mountains.

  “Archie, are you having a panic attack?”

  He shook his head, but still wouldn’t talk.

  “Are you sure?”

  Now he nodded, then a few seconds later he shook his head.

  “Dammit, Archie, get it together. You act like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment. “You remember Felicia?”

  “The girl from the barn?”

  Vandiver’s eyes narrowed. “What girl from the barn?”

  Archie shrugged sheepishly. “You told me to take every opportunity I had to get close to the people in the community, right?”

  He nodded once. “What did you do now?”

  Archie mumbled while glancing away.

  Vandiver looked at me. “Can you interpret this guy?”

  “From what I could tell when he butt-dialed me, he was pretending to be a veterinarian.”

  “Sounds creative, but what did that get you?”

  Another mumble, so I jumped in. “The girl’s ass on a silver platter.”

  “So you used your position to screw this girl?”

  Archie finally turned his head to look at Vandiver. “I thought she might know more about what was going on at Camp Israel.”

  “What’s her last name, Archie?” Vandiver asked.

  “Spooner. Felicia Spooner.”

  I held my gaze. “Seriously?”

  “Did I tell you she had big feet?”

/>   I had already turned to look at the names on the phone. “Clarence Spooner, elder.”

  “Crap!” Vandiver shouted, drawing annoyed and curious glares from those sitting in the adjoining booths.

  “Tell me you didn’t share anything with her about your undercover assignment?” I barked.

  “I didn’t share a thing.” He held up two fingers—the Boy Scout promise.

  Skeptical, I tilted my head. “No war stories about your great CIA conquests where you did your best Jason Bourne impersonation?”

  His lips drew a straight line. “Okay, to be honest, I kind of lost myself…right at that special moment,” he said, popping a fist into the palm of his other hand.

  “You’re gross.”

  “I don’t remember saying anything, Vandiver. I was the ultimate legend.”

  “Legend, my ass.” Vandiver wiped his face.

  “You gotta believe me. You do believe me, right? I don’t want to go to jail.”

  Dana arrived with the check and then just stood there. She was waiting for the money. I reached for my purse, but Vandiver beat me to it. “I can expense this one.” He gave her plastic, and she sauntered away, but not before she got in another wink to Archie.

  Vandiver leaned forward. “The attempt on your lives means we’re close to something big. I can feel it.”

  “So the last thing we can afford is to back away and play the waiting game,” I said, encouraging a certain direction.

  “We’d already set in motion another issue with their electrical power today,” he said. “But it’s a risk. Possibly a huge risk. The whole point of this is to not be confrontational and try to get the evidence we need without a blood bath on either side.”

  “James, let me back in there, man.” Archie poked a hairy finger onto the table. “I can do it. Now that I’ve been there once, I have a better idea of where to go, how to move around. What do you say?”

  Vandiver nodded.

  Archie placed his hands in front of his face and looked straight at the FBI agent. “I won’t let you down.”

  Then he turned in his seat, his face no more than a foot from mine. “And trust me, Alex. I won’t let you down either.”

  Trust Archie? Suddenly I felt like I was going to vomit.

  16