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“His son, John Trapper, a former ATF agent, took part in the apprehension of Reverend Addison, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Trapper was injured. Do you know his current condition?”
“He suffered a head wound. He’s been admitted to the hospital, but the injury isn’t serious. He’s listed in good condition.”
“Has he made a public statement about the passing of his famous father?”
“No.”
“Can we expect one soon?”
“No. Mr. Trapper doesn’t give interviews.”
On that disappointing note, the anchorman wrapped it up with her. She waded her way through a sea of reporters hurling questions at her before reaching the sawhorses barricading the entrance to the hospital’s main lobby, where she was surprised to see Gracie.
“Guess what? Entertainment Tonight has called. The network has temporarily suspended the clause in your contract that prohibits you from—”
“This isn’t entertainment, Gracie,” she said and made to go around her.
“The View wants you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be busy tomorrow.”
“Okay, I’ll put
them off. Maybe one day next week?”
“Until further notice, don’t commit me to anything.”
“Kerra, be smart here. Capitalize on this.” She wagged her index finger at her. “I know you’re holding back a lot of juicy stuff. If you never reported another story, you could make a career off this one.”
The words were so painfully close to the ones Trapper had said to The Major, she recoiled. “That’s the last thing I would want to do. Now, you must excuse me. Deputy Jenks has asked to talk to me.”
He was waiting in the hospital lobby, in uniform, continuing the pretense that he was a high-ranking deputy sheriff and not a federal agent. He drew her aside, out of anyone else’s earshot. He gestured toward her biceps. “I hope I didn’t squeeze your arm too tight.”
“When we were back there, why didn’t you tell me you were an FBI agent?”
“Sorry, but you had to be convincingly frightened. I wanted Hank’s confession to the Wilcox girl’s murder before I arrested him.”
“Trapper was told this morning that the FBI had a man working from the inside.”
“Two of us, actually,” Jenks said. “For the past couple of years.”
“Is your partner also in the sheriff’s office?”
Jenks smiled politely but didn’t answer.
Abashed, she said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked, even though anything we say is off the record. You have my word.”
“I believe you.”
“Can I ask what put Glenn Addison on the FBI’s radar to start with?”
“More people listened to Trapper than he was aware of,” Jenks said. “Based on what he’d brought to light, we started sniffing out Wilcox, and things began to stink, especially when surveillance picked up the close contact he maintained with a sheriff, who happened to be The Major’s good friend.
“Because of Trapper’s kinship with The Major,” he continued, “the higher-ups weren’t sure he could remain objective if he were told about it. They sent us up here, but kept Trapper out of the loop.”
