“You have to promise not to tell Candace.”
“Let me guess; the powers above don’t want a take-down of a serial killer in Candace’s campaign office.” Politics permeated everything.
“Something like that.”
“I figured as much. What else?”
“The best evidence we have against this guy is what we found in that house yesterday. If that body is Brad Lawson—between that and the trophy case we found in the basement it gives us a pile of circumstantial evidence.”
“And, that’s the problem, I gather.”
Jameson shrugged. “You know the drill, Jane. This isn’t the CIA. The FBI still operates in the courts and the court of public opinion. It falls prey to just as much political influence as intelligence. The difference is the outcomes end in a court of law. Juries like forensic evidence. I’ve got nothing in that department but hope.”
“Explain.”
Alex sighed. “Well, Claire and I collected a few things in that house we think are likely to have the killer’s DNA on them. The best possibility was a Coke can in the basement. Just so happens we have a few soda cans from a place we think he frequented—a place where he could visit his burial plots undetected. It’s a long shot. If there is DNA from the can in that house that matches even one of those cans we found in the woods…”
“And, if that matches this person you expect will show up here, you’ll have some compelling evidence.”
Alex nodded.
“And?” Jane asked.
“Well, if we get him on tape making a play toward Jameson or even some type of backhanded confession…”
“Oh, Alex.”
“I know. I hate this. This office has people coming and going all day. It’s a risk to pursue him here. This plan is the best chance to get him without having anyone else compromised.”
“Including Candace.”
“Yeah,” Alex admitted.
“What about Jameson?” Jane asked.
“Claire’s with her.”
“Whose decision was that?” Jane inquired.
“Mine.”
“Is that so?”
Alex groaned. “She won’t let Jameson get hurt, Jane. And, she won’t let this asshole slip past us either.”
“You don’t need to convince me,” Jane said. “I’ve been at this a long time, Alex. I’ve seen this from both sides of the street—if you know what I mean.”
“I do. So, why the questions?”
Jane smiled. “Based on that drumming and the expression on your face when I walked in here, you needed to hear yourself say that. It’s not me, Alex—it’s not Candace or Jameson, or Claire or any one of the agents out in that office behind us that need to trust you—it’s you.”
Alex sighed and began to massage her temples. “There are risks. We both know it.”
“There are always risks. You know that better than anyone.”
“Thanks. That makes me feel so much better,” Alex rolled her eyes.
“You’re welcome.”
“Remind me not to call you when I need a confidence boost.”
Jane laughed. “If you didn’t think this was the right course, we wouldn’t be standing here. Stop second-guessing yourself. Doing that will only increase the risk to everyone.”
Jane was on point. Alex was about to continue the conversation when the door opened.
“He’s in the parking lot,” Agent Robbins said.
Alex nodded. Alex looked at Jane. “Showtime,” she said.
Chapter Eleven
Michelle attempted to ready herself to greet the man she knew as Brad Lawson. Keep cool, Shell. Act normal. It’s all good.
Agent Robbins whispered in her ear. “Relax,” he tried to calm her. “If he senses you are nervous, play it off as Jane Merrow being here today.”
Michelle looked at the agent beside her and smiled. “Thanks.”
Robbins nodded and stepped away, heading back to where a coffee maker was kept. It would give him a line of sight to the suspect and Michelle.
Michelle moved to a large bulletin board and began pinning volunteer names to it.
“Hi,” a voice called to her.
Michelle turned and met the gaze of the man she knew as Brad Lawson. “Hey. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Really?” he asked.
Michelle smiled and finished pinning a cut-out to the board. You can do this, Shell. Just like it was yesterday. She stepped up to him. “I was hoping you’d show. I looked to find your number, but we don’t seem to have one here for you.”
“Yeah, I sort of dropped my cell phone a few days back. I need to replace it.”
Michelle nodded.
“You were going to call me? Need somebody to change a lightbulb again or clean a chimney?” he asked.
“Close,” Michelle said. She reached into her pocket. “I mentioned to my stepmother that you were between jobs. She called this morning to say she was in the middle of a project and could use an extra hand.”
“What kind of project?”
“Who knows?” Michelle said. “It’s JD. She might be building Noah’s Ark for all I know.”
***
Alex watched and listened carefully to the conversation taking place in the other room. She smiled. “She’s good,” Alex said.
Jane stood over her shoulder watching the scene unfold. “She has a future.”
“In the FBI?” Alex asked without diverting her eyes from the screen in front of her.
“No.”
“Always recruiting,” Alex commented. “Bring it home, Shell. Bring it home.”
***
“Your stepmother wants to build an ark?” Brad asked.
“Could be. I think she’s bored. She called me early this morning—wondered if you had any carpentry skills.”
“I can handle a saw.”
Michelle forced herself not to shiver. “I don’t have any idea what she’s up to. My sister and her kids took off for the weekend. I guess that gave JD the bright idea to bite off more than she can chew,” she laughed.
He tipped his head.
“Her number is on that card,” Michelle explained. “If you’re interested. I hate to lose you, but she pays better,” Michelle joked.
***
Alex chuckled. “She pays better? Nice, Shell.”
“What do you think?” Jane asked.
“If he doesn’t take the bait, we take him. I’m not risking losing him again.”
Jane nodded.
“Did you get that Robbins?” Alex asked.
Agent Robbins picked up the phone on the table in front of him and answered Alex. “Understood.”
***
“Lots of people here today,” Brad commented to Michelle.
“Oh, yeah,” Michelle glanced around the office.
“Sudden surge?” he asked.
“No, just sort of happens when someone is occupying the back office,” she gestured with a nod.
He brightened. “Your mother?”
“No,” Michelle shook her head. “Safe to say she’s tied up at the Capitol.”
He grinned. Tied up?
Michelle noticed the feral look in his eyes. Fearing her stomach might revolt, she recalled Agent Robbins’ advice. “Jane Merrow is fielding some press calls and meetings today.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope. She’s good friends with my mom.”
“Huh.”
“Like I said,” Michelle continued. “I’d love you to stay and help me manage all the excitement, but JD pays better. In other words, she pays money, not just bad coffee.”
He smiled. “She doesn’t have a crew?”
“JD?” Michelle laughed. “JD likes to do everything herself. She should build herself a doghouse for the trouble it gets her in.”
He chuckled. Oh, I’m sure we can arrange that. “I’ll give her a call.”
***
“Bingo,” Alex commented. “Robbins, I’m on my way. Johnson, you have t
he make on his car?”
“Yep, he arrived in a 2012 Toyota Camry—black. License plate, 203 XDG Connecticut. It’s registered to a Jennifer Benjamin.”
“Son of a bitch!” Alex replied. “Smart bastard. It’s registered under his wife’s maiden name.” She picked up her jacket and headed for the back door.
“Be careful, Alex,” Jane said.
“Keep an eye out in case he circles back,” Alex said. “Robbins will be here. Johnson and I will tail him to Schoharie.”
“Just be careful,” Jane repeated.
“I promise.”
***
Jameson picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Um, hi. Shell gave me your number. We met briefly the other night…”
“Oh yeah, Brad; right?”
“Yeah. She mentioned you might need some help with something.”
“I could. I seem to have taken on a little more than I bargained for.”
“What kind of project?”
“Well, it’s supposed to be a surprise. Our grandson and our son have taken to building forts all over the house,” Jameson explained. “And moats, it seems. I started the framework—a castle of sorts, but I think I might have been too ambitious for a weekend project. Candace’s daughter will be back Sunday, and if I leave a mess, I’ll probably be forced to live in the little shack I’ve yet to finish.”
Brad chuckled. “What kind of help do you need?”
“I have a lot of wood out in the old barn. Someone to help me carry it out here. I’ve done most of the cutting. It’s the piecing together that seems to be tripping me up. Two hands and two feet aren’t fast enough. If you’re interested, Shell can give you the address. It’s about a forty-five-minute ride from there; well, unless you drive like Shell. Then it’s half an hour.”
“You need help today?” he asked.
“I needed help yesterday if you ask my wife,” Jameson said. “The sooner, the better. I’m happy to kick a couple of hundred bucks your way if you have the time.”
Brad smiled. “Sure, I have plenty of time.”
“Great. Shell will give you directions,” Jameson said. “I’d better get back to it.”
“Sure. I’ll head your way shortly.”
“Sounds good,” Jameson said. She hung up the call and looked at Claire Brackett.
Claire smiled. “Shit, you almost made me believe you were building a fort.”
Jameson moved to the back door and opened it. She pointed a short distance away.
“Holy shit,” Claire said.
“I figured it’d be better to have something when he arrived.”
“When the hell did you do that?” Claire wondered.
“I got here at about six this morning and started.”
“By yourself?”
Jameson chuckled. “You might have given me an excuse to start something I’ve been meaning to.”
Claire shook her head. Jameson had framed out what looked to be a play castle not far from the back of the house. “You did that in less than six hours?”
“Been doing it a long time.”
“We need to meet with the team and position them.”
Jameson nodded. “Like I said, I know every nook and cranny of this property.”
“Good,” Claire said. “I looked at your drawing. I’ve got some ideas. You’re the expert. We’ve got less than an hour and fifteen people to position. Let’s take the tour.”
***
Alex pulled her car over and let the Toyota Camry make its final turn out of her sight,
She pulled out her phone. “He’s coming to you now,” she said.
“Understood,” Claire replied. “We’re ready,” she promised.
“As we planned?” Alex asked.
“Better,” Claire replied. “Jameson really does know every inch of this place. I’ve got surveillance set upstairs in her son’s room,” she told Alex. “Corrigan is up there. You should have eyes and ears the whole time.”
“Is Jameson wearing a wire?”
“Yeah. Not easy to place in that tank top,” Claire chuckled.
Alex rolled her eyes. “You’re both taken.”
“Yeah, doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it.”
Alex chuckled. There was no denying that Jameson was an attractive woman. The playful statement was an appreciated moment of levity.
“Be careful,” Alex said.
“Worried about me?” Claire asked lightly.
“If Candace hears you talking like that about her wife, we might not need to worry about Carter,” she said. Alex sobered. “Besides, I’d like to keep my partner around.”
Claire closed her eyes for a second. Me too. “Ditto,” she said. “See you in a few.”
“You will.”
***
Jameson wiped some sweat from her brow and started to make her way toward the car pulling up the driveway.
Claire watched from the position she had taken in the top of the barn. The plan was for Jameson to lead him there. Claire wanted to be as close as possible when that happened. Just be cool, JD.
“Hey,” Jameson waved. Brad stepped out of the car. “Thanks for making the drive.”
“Thanks for the chance to make a few bucks.”
“Believe me; it’s well-worth the investment.”
“Hot out today, huh?” he commented. His eyes raked over Jameson’s body appreciatively.
Jameson smiled despite feeling her stomach roil. Gross. “It is.”
“So, you want to show me what you’ve got?” he asked.
Claire rolled her eyes as Jameson’s conversation unfolded in her ear. “And, people call me obvious?”
“You are,” Alex’s voice came over the com. “You’re also crude.”
“Nice of you to join us, Agent Toles,” Claire said.
“Thanks for the invitation. How’s your view?” Alex asked.
“From up here, I can see everything out there.”
“Good. What’s Jameson’s plan?” Alex asked. She watched the computer screen in front of her as Jameson led their suspect to the backyard.
“She’ll get him working a bit. Hot day—cold beer.”
“She’s going to bring him in the kitchen?” Alex asked.
“Nope. Too confined. She’ll bring him to me.”
Alex sighed. The barn—good plan, Claire. “Good plan, Brackett.”
“I know.”
Alex snickered. “Going silent until he moves.”
“Understood. Buy you one of Jameson’s beers later,” Claire said.
Alex smiled. “You’re on.”
***
“Any news?” Candace asked.
“He’s at the house,” Jane told her over the line. “That’s all I know.”
Candace sighed.
“They’ll be okay, Candace.”
“I believe you. For some reason, I still feel sick.”
Jane understood that emotion. She’d felt it more than once as a military wife, a First Lady, and as a CIA operative. She did believe that today’s outcome would find everyone they cared about returning home safely. She also knew that didn’t mean they would return unscathed.
“Hang in there, Governor. This will pale by comparison one day.”
“Not a ringing endorsement for the job I’m applying for,” Candace quipped.
Jane laughed. “You’re the fool who put in the application.”
“Thanks.”
“Anytime, Madame President.”
Candace snickered. “From your lips to the Republicans ears.”
“One can hope. Try and relax. I’ll bet the next call you get is from Jameson.”
“I hope so.”
***
“How old are these kids of yours?”
Jameson laughed. “Four and five; why?”
“Big playhouse.”
“They won’t stay four and five,” she pointed out.
He heaved a long 2x4 onto a pile and wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his
hand. “Right, but don’t you think they’ll outgrow it?”
Jameson finished nailing two boards together and leaned against the structure. “Maybe. I don’t know. I thought I’d outgrown castles and nursery rhymes.”
Alex sat up. “Holy shit! She’s baiting him.”
He cocked his head slightly. “You thought you outgrew them?”
“Yeah,” Jameson said. “Until I started reading them to the kids. I don’t know; it brought back lots of memories, I guess.” She looked at the frame of her creation. “Sometimes, I would finish reading to one of the kids or I’d hear Candace reading to them and I’d find myself remembering my mother doing the same thing with me. Funny.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“I thought I’d forgotten all the words and stories; you know?” Jameson said. “Spencer, our grandson—he loves Old King Cole.” She laughed. “Maybe that’s why I wanted to build this. He’s four. He and my son are always making up some story about a castle. I think he wants to be Old King Cole,” she explained. “Now that Candace is running this campaign, I think they’ve decided The White House is a castle. They were out here building a moat the other day.”
Claire grinned. Jameson had told her the same story while Claire got her set up with a microphone. Claire had suggested looking for the opening to tell Brad or Jack or whoever the hell this guy really was the tale. Perfect, JD—perfect.
He shrugged.
“What? Not a fan of Old King Cole?” Jameson asked. She directed him to help her hold another board in place while she fastened it.
“A merry old soul?” he laughed.
“That’s what they say,” Jameson said as she hammered a nail in.
“And his fiddlers three,” he said. “Not every nursery rhyme is a fairy tale,” he told her.
“Don’t like fairy tales either?” she asked.
“I love fairy tales. They seldom have the ending you see in a movie.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Jameson replied. “Mine has had a pretty happy ending.” She moved to fasten the other end of the board. “To tell you the truth, I feel a bit like Old King Cole a lot of the time, emphasis on the old—and the merry,” she said. She finished her task and looked at him. “Thanks. It is hot. I think I could use something cold. You? I have some beer in the barn if you’re interested.”
Campaign Trail (By Design Book 9) Page 17