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“I thought so, but now I’m having second thoughts.” She didn’t tell Charlie where she was, and he didn’t ask. Better to protect him. “Grant confronted Franklin Archer Thursday night. Franklin knows Grant. He might be able to figure out where Grant went. Did you get my memo?” She had emailed him everything Grant told her.
“Yep. Sent it to the boss and O’Dare. She’s been good, real pissed about the mole, wants to make it up to us. I’m taking advantage of that generosity to get everything we need.”
She laughed. Couldn’t help herself, and that felt good.
“I’m going to get an apology out of her, too,” Charlie said. “For you. About Chase.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, but might as well get her when she’s feeling guilty that the agent she trained is a bastard mole.”
“Franklin Archer knows everything,” Regan said. “I don’t want him to get a deal; damn, I want him in prison for the rest of his life. But...” She didn’t finish her thought.
“I know,” Charlie said quietly. “We’re working on getting a warrant to search his house, but it’s touchy. He’s a lawyer. He’s avoiding calls, not answering the door. The law firm is going to be tough for a search, but O’Dare is good—she’s talking to the AUSA and her boss and my boss and something is going to give.”
“They’ll have everything destroyed before then.”
“Possibly, but this is going to be a major investigation for months. Anything financial can be tracked, it’s just a matter of time and resources. And because there was an FBI mole and a dead US marshal? They’ll have all the resources they need.”
That made her feel slightly better.
“Knowing the truth—it helps,” she said.
She wasn’t lying.
“Justice is better,” Charlie said.
She certainly didn’t disagree with that.
“Keep in touch,” Charlie continued. “I need to hear from you often so I know you’re okay.”
“I’ll let you know when we’re on the move. I want to be out of here before sunrise.”
“How far out?”
“Six to eight hours depending on traffic, roads, which way I go.”
“If anything changes on my end, I’ll tag you.”
“Thanks, Charlie. For everything.”
“Be safe.”
She hadn’t been lying to Charlie; shewasfeeling antsy about their location. Too many people knew about this house—including Franklin. She should have left last night, but after driving all day, a broken sleep the night before because of the attack, then the emotional conversation with Grant, she needed time to recover—proving to her once again that she was right to have left the Marshals. She couldn’t think and plan properly anymore, she’d lost her edge, her ability to be a good protector. Because that’s what the marshals did: they protected people.
She walked upstairs into Grant’s room—the one bedroom that had no balcony, no access to the outside. He was still in bed, but not sleeping.
“We leave in fifteen minutes.”
“Maybe we should stay. It’s safe here.”
“It’s not. The deed is in your parents’ name, easy to find. By the time we cross the Virginia line, you’ll have an attorney working on your behalf. We’re going to get out of this. The Marshals office and the FBI are already executing warrants, they raided Brock Marsh, they’re going to get to Franklin as well.”
“Brock Marsh? They have people everywhere. Half its staff are former cops, feds, military.”
“I don’t care—they’re going down. At least Bruce Rockford is—and he’s in the wind. And possibly Chad Rockford considering his connection to BioRise. Through James Seidel’s daughter.”
Grant didn’t say anything.
