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Again, Marc glanced at Claire, and again, Claire nodded.
“Then we won’t keep you any longer,” Marc said, coming to his feet. “Thank you for seeing us, Congressman. Good night.”
* * *
Casey sat up in bed to take Marc’s call.
She listened carefully to everything he had to say. “So let’s cross Mercer off our suspect list. Back to Fenton. You think that Paul figured out he was involved?” she asked cryptically, and quietly, so as not to awaken—and alert—Hutch. “And that, as a result, he had to be disposed of?”
“Or he disposed of himself,” Marc replied. “It’s possible that Everett disappeared off the grid out of fear for his own life.”
“So thoroughly that even the FBI can’t find him?”
“It’s happened in the past. You know that. Even fugitives on the FBI’s Most Wanted list have gotten away and vanished for years. Everett could be anywhere, in hiding with anyone. Remember, Amanda only knew him for five months. He could have old friends, distant family members, even a wife that she doesn’t even know exists.”
“And the FBI is searching for him in order to get a solid case against Fenton.”
“Makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Actually, yes, it does.” A pause as she glanced over at Hutch, whose slow, even breathing told her he was still in deep slumber. But she wasn’t taking any chances. “Uh…I think we should continue this discussion in person.”
“Hutch is with you,” Marc deduced. “How much did he overhear?”
“Nothing. He’s asleep. But I don’t want to press my luck. Are you headed home now?”
“We weren’t planning on it. We were planning on staying out here till morning.” Marc went on to explain Ryan’s findings about Everett and Morano’s mutual real-estate attorney.
“Ryan should pay him a visit,” Casey agreed. “Plus you’ll want to follow up on Fenton. See if putting the fear of God in him had any results. If nothing else, you showing up on his doorstep again will probably make him wet his pants.” Casey couldn’t help but smile. “It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve gotten that response from a suspect.”
“True.” Marc sounded more matter-of-fact than amused. “So what’s on tap for you?”
“Hutch is leaving in the morning.” Casey stated it as a fact. She knew that Marc wouldn’t ask for, nor require, any further explanation. “As soon as he takes off, I’m heading over to the hospital to check on Amanda. She didn’t take Patrick’s news too well. And, after what you just told me, it’s even more important that she not confront her uncle. She could screw up everything.”
“She can’t,” Marc agreed. “We’re right on the brink.”
Fallujah, Iraq
It was pouring—a bone-chilling, miserable day.
Rain was a common occurrence in this portion of Iraq in December. As a rule, if you got off lucky, the precipitation was light and spotty. Not so today. It was coming down in sheets, the heavy winds blowing the palm trees around. Unlike back home, the ground here didn’t absorb the water, so it
turned the sand into deep, thick mud, making the ground you walked on feel like a vat of peanut butter. In an attempt to deal with the water, the military spread stones over acres of land. It did a decent job, but, between the stones and the mud, walking became next to impossible. And he could forget about his daily five-mile run. That sure as hell wasn’t happening.
He was trudging toward his barracks, drenched and ankle-deep in muck, when the military transport drove by. It stopped, deposited its sole passenger and his bag, and then continued on its way.
The two men saw and recognized each other right away. They’d both served in the same U.S. Army infantry squad fifteen years ago.
“Hey, Paul.” Gus Ludlock yelled out and waved his arm.
Paul stopped, dragging the hood of his rain slicker higher on his head to block out the rain. “Gus, hey,” he called back. “I didn’t know you were out here.”
“Me, either.” His Army Reserves friend grinned. “Do we ever?” He shielded his face against the elements. “We’ll talk later. Oh, apparently, you’re famous.”
“What?” Paul gave a puzzled shrug.
“Famous,” Gus repeated. “I saw you on a YouTube video at the NEC. Couldn’t catch the audio because I was headed out. But some hot brunette was holding up your picture. You must’ve done something heroic you don’t know about—the video has over a million hits.”
The wind chose that moment to pick up, nearly blowing down both men.
