Chapter 9
Peter intervened on Dane’s behalf and the two officers, now joined with several FBI agents, all arrested the man and hauled him to the police station. Peter, Dane, and Acer went to the station to give their statements.
Dane was surprised by two things. First, that he didn’t run into Cap, and second, that it only took thirty minutes before they were escorted to the door.
“Is it me, or are they trying to get rid of us?” he said as they got in the car with a statie taking Joe’s place waiting to drive them all.
Joe stayed behind to give his statement and then he was heading back to the state house in Boston to have a private chat with the lieutenant governor, Rick Racer, to catch him up with the latest. Both Peter and Dane thought it would best be done in person.
Dane didn’t bother arguing that he’d rather take his Jeep. Shana had probably taken it back to the trailer to pack it up for their move.
“I think they didn’t want to hear you tell them I told you so,” Acer said. He grinned. “Think they’re going to give me a reward?”
“Depends if they can get anything out of the prick about who hired him. Either he’s a sloppy pro or he hadn’t anticipated any resistance,” Dane said.
“I need a drink,” Peter said.
“Hey, that’s my line,” Acer said.
Dane was surprised. Peter was the coolest of them all, having survived deadly attacks on more than one occasion in his life.
It had never gotten to him before. But then Dane remembered that Peter hadn’t been a husband and father back then.
Those kinds of changes in circumstance tended to up the stakes for a man.
He wondered how much his upcoming marriage would change his stakes? Maybe not at all since he already had so much to lose. But what about children?
That’s where Dane shut down his mind and jumped into the spirit of the conversation about having a good bracing drink.
By the time they snuck in the back door of the Lucky Parrot, the place had neared its crescendo of off-season dinnertime constituents. Dane led the group to his regular table which stood empty but set for guests to arrive at any moment.
His favorite waitress said, “We were about to give away your table. Figured they’d thrown you in jail again.” She waved a hand at the TV screen showing the news where the camera crew had caught a perfect picture of him being subdued and cuffed.
“Third time’s the charm.”
Dane pulled over a chair and let Peter and Acer slide into the seashell-shaped booth. He angled his seat for a view of the front door. He knew Joe was watching the back.
“I’ll bring over a bottle of tequila and glasses to get you started. Need menus?”
Dane shook his head. Surveying the crowd more closely, he was surprised to see a couple of FBI guys still around, albeit in casual wear. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume they’d stayed on for vacation. But he did know better.
“We’re eating, right?” Peter said.
Acer snorted. “What’s the matter? You a lightweight now that you’re a big-shot governor?”
“Governor has nothing to do with it. It’s the kids that have slowed me down.” Peter grinned, but Dane saw the strain, the tic of tension along his friend’s jaw.
Before the bottle hit the table, Dane grabbed it and filled Peter’s glass first. The others weren’t far behind.
“Let’s toast to close calls,” he said.
“How about to surviving close calls,” Peter said. “And to the best protection a man can have—the kind no amount of money can buy.”
They raised their glasses and drained them.
Not leaving a drop, Dane took a moment to appreciate the burn and anticipated the relaxing of his ever-present tension.
Present since Whitey Nash had invaded their lives.
When he opened his eyes after a moment of blind contemplation, he saw the last person he expected to see heading straight for him.
The tension roared back, flooding him, though he didn’t move a muscle, keeping his eyes trained.
Cap reached their table and pulled up a chair to sit next to Dane, then looked him square in the eye. Cap said nothing for a beat, neither did anyone else. So Dane started the conversation.
“My lawyer would hang me if she saw me consorting with the enemy.” He spoke with the ease of old habit, an ease he didn’t feel. Not even a little bit.
“I thought you should know a few things,” Cap said.
Dane waited. Acer frowned and motioned his hand. Peter sat still and quiet and watchful.
“You sure you should be talking to us about the trial?”
“It’s not about the trial. It’s about Natalia Stravana and her threat to the governor. The feds are calling it a wrap now that they have her. They’re assuming the guy today was one of her shooters. But I’m not so sure he was.”
“What makes you think that?” Peter asked. Dane held his face in neutral, though his heart rate picked up. Damn. Cap was on the same page as he was.
“Aside from the fact that he’s not giving us anything—including his name—Natalia refused to cop to sending the photo to Madeline.
She’s refusing to discuss Assassin John Doe.
But what I think is telling is that the feds never found the drone photo they confiscated with the other photos.
The feds are dismissing it, assuming she has more than one drone.
And assuming she’ll eventually admit to everything. ”
“Why would they want to short-cut it?” Acer said. “Why not err on the side of caution? Doesn’t sound like the FBI I know, the one that would overturn every rock no matter how dubious. They’d be looking for the other boogeyman with a drone.”
“I’m not sure.” Dane’s mind spun while he spoke. “They may be distracted by the trial.” As the wheel of his mind turned and slowed, it landed on a whole other possibility involving nefarious motives. The kind he had to be careful about voicing in mixed company.
Cap nodded as if he bought the trial distraction theory.
Peter said, “Richards is pressuring me to return to Boston, to cancel any further press conferences now that they’ve caught Stravana.
I told Agent Richards that now that they have Natalia I’m free to speak without fear.
I told him I was also free of any need for their protection.
He didn’t like that. I think he wants a reason to stick around for the trial.
But he didn’t change his mind about their threat assessment.
They’re confident Stravana and her merry band is it.
” He paused, then added, “His words—not mine.”
“Or at least Assistant Special Agent in Charge Mark Richards is confident. It’s his operation, right?” Dane said. He was working on a theory. It might have something to do with Richards’s ego or maybe even another motive, but he was the decision-maker short-cutting their investigation.
“I’ll talk to one of the other agents,” Cap said. “See if there’s disagreement within the ranks about closing the case.”
Peter nodded. “Thank you.” It was a dismissive statement.
Peter knew Dane didn’t feel comfortable brainstorming with Cap, and that was saying a lot because Dane was as comfortable as any man was in his own skin under any circumstances.
But this was different. It was tough to reconcile Cap, his good friend for years, the man who’d saved his skin on many occasions, with the Cap who’d arrested him for murder and testified against him.
Cap stood and turned to go. Dane couldn’t let him just walk away.
A sick combination of love and hate, the kind he might have for a brother who betrayed him—if he’d had a brother—welled up inside him.
He supposed Cap came as close to a kid brother as anyone would.
Cap had looked up to him. Dane had tolerated him.
Eventually that grew into mutual respect, without ever losing the rub of the rivalry they’d had in the very beginning over Shana. He spit the thought from his head.
“See you tomorrow.” Dane spoke in his dead-serious voice, making it almost sound like a threat.
Cap met his eyes. “In court.”
He held his breath without any hint of his racing heart evident on his face. Cap’s jaw twitched and he blinked. But he said nothing and walked away. Damn.
“You always did like playing with fire,” Peter said.
“I notice you said nothing.”
“What the hell am I going to say? I’m almost as confused as you are,” Peter admitted.
“I ain’t confused,” Acer said. “The bastard is a traitor. He’s lucky I didn’t call him out back. I only refrained from saying anything because I knew you could handle it, know you will handle it in your way.”
Dane nodded, acknowledging Acer’s unshakable loyalty.
“On the other hand,” Peter said, “He didn’t have to come here and give us a heads-up about the feds.”
Acer snorted. “You’d have found out about all that from Richards yourself in a minute.”
Dane ended the discussion before they got sidetracked, an easy thing to do these days. He said, “It’s time to move into the Gables’.”
That’s where they could do some real brainstorming and make some progress on this case. He would make sure the threat against him was dealt with. All the threats.
Shana had already gotten to the Gables’ with Sassy and too many bags. Acer and Peter arrived with Dane and less luggage combined. Peter’s two bodyguards. one of them with the FBI and one a state trooper assigned by Cap. trailed along and were stationed on perimeter duty.
“Don’t worry. You’ll enjoy the accommodations here much better than that flea-bitten motel where Peter put you up,” Dane said. Whatever guilt he had about making them stay outside in the early November gray drizzle faded when they both failed to suppress their smirks.