by John Foxjohn
“Where is he?” Melissa shouted, her gun jerking with the movement of her eyes.
Melissa and Andy rushed to the back. Whistlam’s mother screamed for them not to hurt her baby.
With her breath in ragged gasps, Melissa skidded to a halt when she ran from the back of the trailer.
On the ground by a large oak tree, Morgan lay on his back, his eyes wide as a full moon. Beside him, a man lay face first, blood soaking the back of his shirt. With her gun up, Melissa jerked around. John stood at one end of the trailer and Melvin the other.
Melvin, with hubcap eyes, had his gun extended.
Melissa closed her eyes a moment. Dammit, what happened?
A shriek like a hawk protecting its young erupted from behind, causing her eyes to snap open. She spun, but Whistlam’s mother raced past her, threw herself on her son, screaming they’d murdered her baby.
Morgan, gun in hand, scooted on his butt away from the woman.
Melissa spun around and pointed to John. “Get an ambulance here.” She moved forward and attempted to pry the woman off the body, but couldn’t. She reached down and checked his pulse, but didn’t find one.
She jerked around. “Is anyone hurt?”
Melvin seemed to snap out of his trance and shook his head. Morgan, mumbling, climbed to his feet, brushing his clothes off.
“Morgan, are you hit?” Melissa asked.
Morgan dropped his gaze. “Melvin saved my life.”
Melissa took his answer to mean that he wasn’t. She turned to Melvin, but caught movement out of the corner of her eye.
Morgan, with his head down, didn’t see the old woman attack. Melissa grabbed her from behind as one hand raked its nails across Morgan’s face. With his gun holstered, Andy rushed forward and helped pull Mrs. Whistlam off Morgan, who had blood streaming down his cheek.
She fell to her knees sobbing, and Melissa cuffed her hands behind her back. She didn’t appear to notice.
Melissa shoved her gun in her holster. With hands on hips, she demanded, “What happened?”
No one said anything.
“Morgan?”
“Melvin saved my life.”
“Dammit. I think we have established that little fact by now.” She whirled to Melvin. “What happened?”
“I killed him.”
Her head fell backward and she rolled her eyes. She looked at Andy and he shrugged. She took a deep breath. John ran around the corner as sirens warbled through cold air.
Tires screeched in front of the trailer and she knew the cops were on the scene. Maybe the officers could get her team to tell what happened here.
* * * *
After visiting a federal judge, where David obtained several John Doe arrest and search warrants, he stopped by Immigration, spent an hour there, and stopped at a pay phone. When he asked for Joey, told who was calling, she put him through.
“Take Rosa by immigration tomorrow morning.”
“Man, you did it. Kept your word.”
“I try to keep my word, Joey. We’re even.”
“Hell, no, we aren’t even. I owe you big time for this, Mason. You have one coming.”
David hung up and drove to the bookstore. When he parked and killed the engine, he rested his head on the steering wheel, his eyes closed tight.
He opened the door and stepped out. Halfway to the front door, he stopped—gazing up at a big wooden sign.
He stood, immobile, until Beth rushed out, grabbed his hand, and led him in.
Patty came from behind the counter and flew into David’s arms, crying. David blinked back his own tears, found Beth. She cried, too.
With Patty’s face buried in his shoulder, his arms around her, they remained that way for a long time. Beth reached out and held David’s trembling hand.
Finally, Patty let David go, but told him to follow her, which he did. They sat in the back area where readers could lounge and read. Patty leaned toward David and caught both cheeks in her hands. “Marriage is good for you.”
David smiled despite himself. “Marriage to Beth is good for me. I don’t think it’d be the same with anyone else.”
Fresh coffee fragrance filled the air. Before he could get up, Beth brought him a cup. David shook his head. “You didn’t have to do that. I can get my own.”
“I know you can. I wanted to. Besides, you need to sit here and talk to Patty.”
Patty caught both of David’s hands in hers. “I want you to listen to me. Henry’s getting shot wasn’t your fault.”
“He could’ve died.”
She raised her hand to stop him and gave him that woman look. “I said listen. He could have, but didn’t. You weren’t even there. Henry saved my life. He pushed me out of the way and took the bullet that would’ve killed me. If it’s anyone’s fault, its mine.”
David shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“No, and it wasn’t yours, either. Henry will be here in a minute. He is in the back with a salesman. He is still frail, but he is going to be OK. The only thing you’re responsible for is my husband living. Doctors have said many times that without your first aid, Henry would’ve died.”
When Henry shuffled in from the back, his appearance stunned David. Henry, always skinny, looked like half a toothpick.
David leaped from his seat. His old partner flashed a perfect grin and crossed his eyes.
David breathed deep as they hugged. Hell, why not. Everyone else had hugged him today.
An hour later, David glanced at his watch. He felt a lot better. He turned to Beth. “If we’re going to eat before I leave, we’d better get a move on.”
Beth stood and gathered her purse and David put his hand on Henry’s shoulder. Tears leaked from the corner of Patty’s eyes.
David turned back to Patty. “Do you need anything? Money. Anything?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Me and the boys are fine. Henry had that policy from the department and that other two hundred thousand dollar one that he and I knew nothing about or can remember paying on.”
She stared at David. “You don’t know anything about that, do you?”
David thought a moment before he answered. “Henry never told me about an insurance policy.”
Patty tilted her head with a smile, and David turned away to keep a smile off his face.
As David and Beth walked out, Patty caught up with them. She said Beth had an important call. Frowning, Beth hurried inside while David said his goodbyes to Patty and Henry.
A couple of minutes later, Beth rushed out. “Did you give Melissa Sheree’s number?”
David tensed. “Yes!”
“She called. They need you back right away. Something bad has happened.”
David’s car sped down highway 59 North. He didn’t have a clue what went on in Lufkin. He’d rushed into the bookstore and tried to call Melissa but couldn’t get her. He’d made a couple of other calls, but no one knew. As a last attempt, he called Chief Spears, but his secretary told him the chief was at the hospital with his agents.
He kissed Beth, who had a worried expression. She laid a hand on his arm. “Please call me when you know something.”
He told her he would and raced to his car. The DPS stopped him in Livingston for speeding, but they waved him on when he flashed his badge.
On his way, he used the car phone to call both hospitals but neither of them had treated any of his agents. Relieved, he called the chief again and this time got him. Spears told him none of his agents were hurt and meet him at his office. He didn’t want to talk on the phone.
David slammed his hand on the steering wheel. He still didn’t know what had happened.
When his car slid to a stop in front of the police station, Melissa, with her head down, sat on the steps waiting for him.
When David strode up, she glanced up, and then dropped her eyes. Her lips trembled. “I screwed up.”
David sat beside her without speaking. He knew she would tell him what was going on. When
she looked up and related the story to him, he sucked in a breath. “Then no one was hurt?”
“Whistlam’s dead and Morgan has some serious scratches on his face.”
David nodded and ran a hand over the top of his hair and squeezed the back of his neck. Pot boiling minutes slinked by as tension drained from him. At last, he took a deep breath. “OK. Let’s go in and talk to the chief.”
Chief Spears talked on the phone, feet on his desk. The other agents sat around in chairs.
Spears hung up and stood. “Glad you could make it back, Mason. We have a bad situation here. Your agents screwed up.”
David’s lips thinned, and he turned to the agents. “Why don’t y’all meet me at the motel? Shut the door on your way out.”
When they trooped out, David sat in a chair across from Spears desk and crossed his leg. “OK, chief, what do you know about this that I don’t know?”
“Not sure what you know.”
“Melissa just gave me a run down.” David related what she had told him.
When he was through, Spears nodded. “That’s what it looks like to me.”
David nodded, crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat. “One thing has me puzzled, Chief. I’m still waiting for you to tell me how my agents screwed up.”
Spears leaned back in his seat. “What do you mean?”
David tapped on the chair arm. “How did my people screw up? What would you have done differently?”
Spears’ face burst to crimson. He held a finger up. “First, I sure wouldn’t’ve conducted it without adequate backup.”
“Is that all?”
“That’s enough, don’t you think?”
David leaned forward. “Chief, the last time we asked for backup, Whistlam got a phone call and ran out of there like his tail was on fire before we arrived.”
Spears leaped from his seat. “Are you accusing my people of something?”
“Nope. Just stating a fact. If you were in Melissa’s place, would you have called in the locals?”
He started to say yes, then stopped, thought for a moment, and shook his head. “Probably not.”
David stood and rubbed his mouth. His gritty eyes stung. “I’ll call you tomorrow and go over what we need to do.”
As David spun around to leave, the chief stopped him. “One thing I haven’t told you. One of my investigators questioned Ms. Whistlam. It seems he had received several calls from someone the mother didn’t know before he arrived. When he did come in, he got another call. Whistlam slammed the phone down and ran out the back door. Seconds later, she heard the shots that killed him.”
David froze, his eyes widening.
Spears leaned forward. “Son, is someone on your team leaking information?”
CHAPTER 24
David trudged out of the office. Cold air hit him, reviving him. Chief Spears asked a damn good question and he needed an answer. Twice now, they had gone after Whistlam and twice he’d received calls alerting him. The first time they missed him by a couple of minutes. This time they arrived a few minutes in time. He sat in his car with the window down. He didn’t know what he would say to his people, or to Beeker for that matter, and he needed to call him soon. Beeker wouldn’t be happy, but he’d be less happy if he heard this from someone else.
From what Melissa had said, she handled things well. She used initiative and executed a plan well. The plan seemed sound. He couldn’t think of one thing he would’ve done differently in her place. He would have put Andy up front with him because at this point, he was the most trustworthy.
Morgan was the most experienced and he’d have put him in the rear, where she did. The new ones were in the perfect place.
He wished he had thought of the stake out on the trailer. It made sense. No one of his people was hurt, but they had lost their only lead to the ones who killed Justin. He now believed they had two different things going on here with two different groups and one group knew nothing about the other. That was what Justin had meant by the Sawyer case. It had taken him awhile to figure that out from the files of the old case that he had known nothing about.
David knew one of the groups, but Whistlam was a part of the second, unknown group.
How was someone getting information from his team? Once was too big of a coincidence—twice was impossible. The first time the police department knew some of it—this time no one but his team knew. He hadn’t even known.
As bad as he hated it, he now had to believe one of his team leaked information. But how would a member of his team even know the people behind this? None of them came from Texas or had worked there before.
His heart skipped several beats. Melissa had spent a few months in Houston, and Lufkin wasn’t that far.
He tossed his head from side to side. No way would Melissa betray his trust or the oath she swore to up-hold.
* * * *
Melissa, with spider-webbed red eyes, sat cross-legged on her bed, her face buried in her hands. Their only suspect was dead, she’d put the team members in danger, and one almost died because of her. Melvin walked around in a trance because he killed someone.
She told herself she did what she thought was right, but did she? Did she come up with the plan—execute it to prove herself better, smarter than the men were? Prove she could lead despite being a woman? She wanted this, that was true, but she didn’t want to cause the death of anyone to do it. She deserved her chance, had worked and studied for it, sacrificed for it, but now, was the price too high?
Could she survive in a man’s world and not need to be the little coffee gopher, the secretary?
With her hand trembling, she picked up the phone and dialed a number. When it rang, she almost hung up, but took a deep breath. When a woman answered on the other end, she froze, couldn’t say anything.
“Hello.”
Melissa closed her eyes tight, holding her breath.
“Hello. Is anyone there?”
She wiped her eyes. “Mom.”
“Melissa, is that you?”
Melissa’s heart pounded—her pulse raced in her ears. In a small voice she said, “Yes, Mom, it’s me.”
Her mother’s sharp voice echoed on the other end. “Melissa, where are you?”
She didn’t know what to say to her own mother. The last time they’d talked, the conversation had ended with a big fight. They hadn’t spoken for almost two years. She didn’t want that now. “I’m in Texas.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, just wanted to call and see how everyone is.”
Melissa sat on the edge of the bed, her bare feet on the carpet, curling and un-curling her toes. She didn’t know why she’d called her mother.
“Are you still involved with that foolishness?”
Melissa let her head fall back. One thing for sure, Sarah Adams never changed. She took a deep breath. “Mother, I am still an FBI agent. I don’t work in Washington anymore. I am a field agent—second in command of an entire unit.”
Silence on the other end of the phone cut through her. She wanted someone to talk to, maybe explain things, but she’d never gotten that from her mother and didn’t know why she thought she would now.
“And what did you need to do to get to that point?”
Melissa almost choked up. Even her own mother starting that crap. Why could no one believe in her? Her lips thinned, but she cautioned herself not to explode, not to give her the satisfaction that she’d got to her. “Mom, I need to go.”
She heard her mother say, “Melissa,” before she hung up. If her mother had her way, she’d have a little house with a white picket fence, a husband who didn’t drink much and went to work every day while she stayed home, cooked and cleaned, did his laundry, and took care of her three and a half kids. Why couldn’t her family understand and accept that she wanted more than that?
David thought some women in East Texas were backwater—she had news for him, it wasn’t just in East Texas. She lay back on the bed, covered her face with a p
illow and cried. Several minutes later, she rose and padded into the bathroom to wash her face with cold water, ashamed she’d cried like a baby.
Maybe everyone was right. Women, especially her, didn’t belong in the field. If she was going to fall apart, she sure didn’t need to be there.
Her biggest concern—what David would say and do.
* * * *
David stopped and got a large cup of coffee before heading to the motel. He clumped in, called Beth and explained what had happened and that everyone was OK. Next, he called Beeker, left a message, and visited the bathroom. When he came out, Beeker called. He spent forty-five minutes explaining what had happened, what he did, and how he planned to get all the details.
He also explained why he needed to go to Houston, what he’d found out, and his course of action. Beeker make a couple of suggestions and told David to call him tomorrow with all the details.
He sat on the sofa for several minutes, trying to decide how to handle everything. He thought about calling all of them at once, but decided against that. He called Melissa and asked her to come to his room.
He hung his suit coat up in the closet, loosened his tie, and sat on the sofa. When a knock broke the silence, he opened the door and Melissa, head down, plodded in.
Confused, he indicated a seat. He smoothed his hair back. “What’s the matter?”
Melissa glanced up at him for a moment, her eyes bloodshot, and lips trembling. “I messed up.”
David leaned back in his seat, scratching above his eyebrow. “What did you screw up?”
“Everything.”
“Tell me everything that happened and what you did.”
He did not interrupt while Melissa explained what she had thought, how she handled everything, and what she did after Melvin killed Whistlam.
“Who told you that you screwed up?”
Melissa’s head jerked up. “Chief Spears, for one.”
David got up and made a pot of coffee. They were going to need some. With the coffee on, he stood behind her chair. “I want you to keep something in mind. You don’t work for Chief Spears. You work for me and I decide who screws up and who doesn’t on my team. From what I can tell, you did everything right. I can’t think of a single thing I would have done different if I had been here in charge of it.” David took a breath as Melissa glanced up, gratitude in her eyes.