Chapter 15
Maverick
What the fuck?
I glared at the computer screen, fisting both hands to keep from slinging the keyboard off the table.
I was on the main computer screen, requesting access to the Sentinel, the database system housing all pertinent information regarding various cases, both recent and past. Agents were all on a need-to-know basis meaning if they hadn’t been involved with the case.
That was to be expected.
However, given the case was also thirteen years old, even various grand jury testimonies should be available for viewing.
Being denied access into the project file altogether not only pissed me off but was a giant red flag. Why the fuck had I been denied access?
“Goddamn son of a bitch.”
“What’s wrong?” Chase asked. I’d called him just as I’d tried to gain access.
“Denied entry into the FBI’s system.”
“On one case or all of them?”
I shifted to another screen and the last case I worked on, getting into the case although certain access appeared limited. That made sense. I was no longer an officer. “Just the one.” Even that troubled me. It was as if I’d been labeled a troublemaker or worse. Who the fuck had limited my access?
Hissing, I tried it once again, now thoroughly disgusted. What if there was some strange cover-up? Even I knew my ranting wasn’t going to change anything. I couldn’t go down that path. It wouldn’t do me any good.
“You did stop being an officer of the law.”
“Yeah, well, the FBI is slow in altering their systems. Besides, I had access for the latest books less than two months ago.”
“So someone got wiser. I had to call in several favors,” Chase continued.
“Our instincts were correct about the birth certificate. Forged. There’s no information as to why, at least that my source could find.
What we do know is that Samuel Wells was born in Germany.
There was a note attached to the birth certificate that survived forty-two years. ”
“What was the note?”
“Baby number one. Don’t go celebrating yet. There’s no indication of a second birth. I emailed the information. Did you get it?”
I’d just opened the email, shaking my head as I read over the information.
“I got it. I can’t say it leaves me with any additional warm fuzzies than I have right now.”
He chuckled. “And I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
“Why the lie about the birth certificate?
“If my initial hunch was correct and one parent was a US citizen serving in the military, then it was likely done to cut through the red tape of the child being born in another country. I know what you’re going to say about the kid already being a US citizen, but we don’t know the background of the mother.
Maybe she was German and there were family issues. Who knows.”
“This just isn’t making much sense.”
“You’re right. I have a bad feeling about this, bud. Why in God’s name would anyone be covering up the possibility the real killer is out there?”
I sat back, scrubbing my jaw, fuming more than before. “Think about how many people touched this case. Two dozen FBI agents. A half dozen DEA. Countless police officers in several jurisdictions. Two mayors, a governor. An attorney general. Hell, even senators weighed in.”
“Yeah, and a partridge in a pear tree,” he chortled. “You’re suggesting a possible cover-up because they don’t want to embarrass themselves?”
Even as little as a year ago, I’d laugh off my suspicions. But after everything I’d seen and heard, the missions we’d undertaken and the corruption we’d encountered, anything was possible.
The entire fucking judicial system was as political as everything else. Which was one reason readers adored my books. People needed an unconventional hero. Mine certainly were.
Maybe that’s why my beautiful house guest had been drawn to me in the first place. I still could not believe the deal she’d proctored with Carter.
I’d been trying to get more money for years.
He’d even sent over the new contracts.
“Maybe, but we can’t go tossing that around. I like making money,” I teased in return. “Besides, it was agreed all evidence pointed to Samuel’s guilt. Why should anyone think otherwise? He’s not screaming about being innocent.”
“Yeah, why is that? If he’s taking the place of a family member, why?”
“Maybe there are worse fates than facing a needle.”
Chase huffed. “Or maybe Samuel felt honored to protect the real killer.”
“Maybe.”
What now? So many fucking questions that started out the same way.
I tapped my finger on the table, still staring at the computer screen.
I’d also made a call to my old partner, who still worked with the FBI.
Maybe there was a new rule and since I hadn’t been an employee in a long time, I had no access to anything other than the basics.
However, I had a very bad feeling she had no idea what I was talking about. Or that’s what she’d tell me anyway.
“Have you told Alexia the news about Samuel yet?” Hearing Chase’s voice was just another jab, another vicious reminder that if I’d followed my instincts all those years ago, perhaps Alexia wouldn’t be going through another crisis.
At least she’d shared with me that she’d lost a significant portion of time while being held captive. No doubt to keep her mind from fracturing. No one should ever be forced to endure the horrors Wells had inflicted on her.
Or Wells’ brother. Goddamn it. The pieces needed to fit.
I continually tried to mentally compare Samuel’s voice after arresting him at his house to the one on the phone from a day before.
What I needed was an actual comparison. If the fucker called again, I’d be ready to hit record.
Only I had a feeling Samuel had made his point and had no intention of pushing boundaries where he could be captured.
Even if I had access to the hours of interrogations that had been recorded, as I’d told Alexia, time and memories could seriously alter things.
“Not yet. Not until we are one hundred and fifty percent certain of the match.” Which we weren’t. What little had been discovered wouldn’t stand up in a court of law. Not the way it was. And it certainly wouldn’t stop the execution.
According to the email, the hospital was widely known as caring for low-income families in Germany.
However, there was one possibility that could provide answers.
It was near a US Army base. At this point, what the hell did that matter?
So what if the kid was born in Germany? His life was in the United States.
“What are you thinking about doing?” he asked in what I liked to call his DEA tone. All business.
“Contacting my old partner. She’s moved up in ranks within the FBI. Maybe she can provide some information.”
Chase laughed. “Didn’t you two have a falling out?”
“She’ll talk to me.” Although I wondered if she would. “Plus, I’m going to pay a visit to Samuel Wells. Perhaps his upcoming execution will rattle his chains. I’m about to head out in a little while.”
“I had a feeling that’s what you were planning. Not a bad idea.”
“Do me a favor. I think it’s a good idea to find out how he’s been treated during his incarceration.”
Chase chuckled. “You’re thinking a wealthy benefactor.”
“You bet. Have our hackers spend whatever funds necessary to find out everything about Samuel’s family including where they are today.”
“Way ahead of you. They’re already on it. Anything else?”
I thought about the event I was attending with my lovely guest. “Check into the background of Betty Landers.”
“The woman Alexia works for. Right?”
“Yeah. Just a hunch. Find out what cases she’s worked on. That kind of thing.”
“Will do, boss,” he snarked. “About heading to the penitentiary.”
When I felt a presence behind me, I clicked off the file link. I’d managed to convince Alexia to stay the night. We’d talked, but she’d been unwilling to discuss many details that had returned. Not that I could blame her. “What?”
“Are you prepared for the memories that will resurface?”
His concern was notable and I was thankful to call him a friend. “I have no choice. This chapter needs to end one way or another.”
“I understand. The others are aware of what my buddy discovered. They’ll be on high alert.”
“Good. I need to go.”
“Listen,” Chase pushed. “If you’re right and Samuel is being used as a willing scapegoat, that means as soon as you make contact to the prison, whoever the real killer is will be placed on notice. That will likely increase the threats.”
“Yeah, I know.” I turned around to face her. She was standing in bare feet, wearing jeans and a cute tee shirt with a picture of her favorite sports team, the Miami Heat. You had to adore a girl who loved basketball. “That’s exactly what I hope will happen.”
“Since your buddy Tony was made, I’m going to send a couple friends of mine to keep an eye on her in your absence. They’ve been undercover and know how to avoid law enforcement, even a bright, beautiful, and precocious attorney.”
She was leaning against the doorjamb with a mug of coffee in her hand, studying me as if by doing so, she’d learn vital details about my personality.
“Not a bad idea. But don’t mind me if at some point I say I told you so.
She’s a lean, mean, fighting machine.” I walked closer, enjoying the way the shadowed light reflected off her dark hair.
“Code for she’s in the room. Got it.” Chase laughed. “When are you leaving?”
I checked my watch. “About an hour from now.”
“I’ll have a man standing by at your house for after you leave. Don’t worry. They’ll keep a watchful eye.”
“I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
“We’ll be ready to move if we discover there’s a brother.”
She was finally walking closer, studying my comprehensive computer system as if she hadn’t seen the wall full of them before. When in fact, we’d spent the better part of three hours sitting in two desk chairs, talking about the case as if we’d been old partners.
Without any personal details.
I’d learned two valuable pieces of information from her. One I’d heard but had forgotten about. I’d checked my notes and a witness who’d been the last to see one victim while she was alive had overheard the same question.
Do you dream in color?
I’d made a mental note to use the question on Samuel if it came up in a good place in the conversation. That way I could try to trip him up or potentially confirm that he was the killer and our concerns were unfounded.
But she’d alluded to a second phrase. Perhaps one day she’d trust me enough to tell me.
“I’ll hold you to that, bro,” I told him.
As soon as she was close, she shifted her eyes to the computer screen behind me, frowning as she noticed the shut-out within the FBI.
“I’ll let you go. Let me know happens at the prison.”
“Will do.” I tossed my phone, immediately taking one of her hands into mine.
“You’re looking into my boss?”
“Knowing all the players around us will help solve the riddle.”
She tipped her head. “I didn’t know we were dealing with riddles, but you’re right. The monster used flowery words like poetry. That’s how he lured his victims.”
“Like being able to dream in color.”
“Exactly.” She took a sip of coffee and I could feel her tension. “Have you been at this all night?”
I pulled her icy hand to my lips, rubbing them across her knuckles. While she didn’t try to pull away, the immediate tension I noticed in the erratic pulse of her veins on the side of her neck was a clear indication she was still hesitant about her feelings for me.
“Not all night. Just trying to work out a few details. Did you get any sleep?” She’d been hesitant to stay until I’d put my foot down.
After hearing about the phone call I’d received, we’d both come to the conclusion that there was potentially significant danger.
A phone call to either one of us could be shoved aside as a crank hungering for fame.
Not two.
“A couple hours.” Now she pulled her hand away, glancing at the bank of computers. “You’re no longer allowed into the FBI data system.”
“Evidently not.”
“Is that typical for a former employee?”
“Could be new protocol.”
Every time she smiled, it was as if she was already developing mischievous ideas. “But you don’t buy it.”
“Not even a little bit.”
“Then who do you believe is controlling the situation?”
I shoved my hands into my pockets. “I honestly don’t know, but I’m playing this as if it doesn’t matter. However, their identities will if Samuel is purposely taking the blame for the crimes and that comes to light.”
“Embarrassing those who put him behind bars.”
“That’s what I believe.”
Her lower lip trembled. “Including you.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself. Who knows. My notoriety will likely increase with scandal.” I held up my hands, shaking them and purposely sucking in my breath just to tease her.
Her expression of concern switched to amused disdain. “Very funny, big boy.”
“What about your career?” I knew exactly what she’d say.
“Maverick, do you honestly believe I give a shit at this point? I’ve spent thirteen years wishing I’d remembered more.
Had done more. Had screamed to the wind.
I’ve felt guilty. I’ve experienced nightmares.
I’ve avoided relationships. I’ve been so driven to right wrongs that I forgot all about the true meaning of living.
I’m finished with second guessing. Whoever the bastard who wants me to relive the terrible experience is, he will not break me no matter what he ends up doing. I refuse to allow it.”
The way she was looking at me was a dare for me to argue with her. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Good. Then we’re in this together.”
“Together.” My repetition was met with a slight smirk. I did so adore seeing her smile. When she stuck out her hand, I grimaced and even allowed her to hear one of what my assistant called my infamous growls.
She wasn’t put off in the least, thrusting it in front of me as if a formal gesture. Somehow, I knew she wasn’t going to back down. Her grip was firm.
Enjoyable.
Electrifying.
Enough so my cock stirred as per usual.
“On that note, who were you talking to just now?” She kept a firm hold on my hand, still daring a single nudge of pushback.
“A buddy of mine.”
“A buddy in law enforcement. I could tell by the way you two were talking.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
She used her hold on my arm to pull herself closer. Why did I have a feeling her mischief was only increasing? “So the rumors are true.”
“What rumors?” Uh-oh.
“That there’s a vigilante group in town.”