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Charlie said, “As I told you yesterday, Tommy took a partial leave of absence.”
“Yes, I have that note in the file.”
“I also told you that he was coming in Monday, the morning he was killed, to talk to me about something he was working on.”
“And this is relevant why?” O’Dare gave her a suspicious sidelong glance as if she thought Regan was the instigator of this meeting.
Regan refrained from commenting, though it was getting more difficult to ignore O’Dare’s attitude. She kept her hands tightly in her lap and let Charlie continue to steer the conversation.
Charlie said, “Tommy was investigating the murders of Chase Warwick and Adam Hannigan.”
O’Dare reddened.“What?”
“He interviewed Peter Grey three weeks ago.”
“For shit’s sake, Charlie! I can’t believe you guys are still pursuing that dead end! Those are closed cases, closedFBIcases.” Agitated, she narrowed her eyes at Regan. “When did you arrive in Virginia?”
Regan didn’t answer. “You need to consider that it was no coincidence that Tommy was killed the day he planned to share information about his investigation with Charlie and their boss. That maybe, Tommy’s murder has nothing to do with his cases and everything to do with what he uncovered about the murders of Adam Hannigan and my son.”
O’Dare put her hand up. “Stop right there. Your son’s case is closed.Closed.It’sover. Adam Hannigan was the shooter, not only did he confess, but we proved he did it, and you know it.”
“Yes, he pulled the trigger. There’s no doubt about that.”
O’Dare shook her head, sighed as if Regan was a rookie and she was explaining the rules to her. Every sentence further irritated her. Regan had always controlled her temper well, but now she felt her control slipping.
“I get it, Regan, I do,” O’Dare said, her voice edging toward condescension with just enough sympathy that Regan couldn’t call her on the disrespect. “You have to let this go. As I told you then, and I’ll tell you now, you and Granger were barking up the wrong tree about Hannigan’s murder. Peter Grey is apsychopath. He killed three people for no reason other than they irritated him. He’s in prison for life. Hannigan looked at him wrong, and Grey doesn’t like child molesters.”
“Hannigan was not a child molester,” stated Regan, determined to hold in her building fury. “Who told Grey that he was? If that was, in fact, his motive.”
“We can only work with the facts and statements we have, and we have Grey and others stating that the word inside was Hannigan was a pedophile. What can we do about that? Honestly, there were people around here—not me—suggesting thatyouput the word out about Hannigan.”
Before Regan exploded, Charlie said, “That is a blatant lie, and I hope you put an end to that rumor the first time you heard it.”
“Of course,” O’Dare said without seeming concerned, “I’m sure no onebelievessuch a thing, but no one would lose sleep over it, either.”
“I had a scheduled interview with Hannigan,” Regan snapped. “I wanted that meeting. I didn’t want him dead—not without a conviction in a court of law.”
Charlie cleared his throat, was about to speak, but O’Dare cut him off. “He killed akid,” she snapped. “Close enough for a vengeful nut like Grey. Maybe Grey put a hit out on Granger from prison. I’ll look into that, but that’smyjob—definitely not yours. In fact, I expect you to turn over any and all evidence about whatever Granger was doing while he was on leave. This is my case.”
“Why would Grey want Tom dead?” Charlie asked.
O’Dare shrugged. “Makes as much sense as any of the theories your former colleague here tossed around last year.” O’Dare continued with clearly feigned compassion, “No cop wants their family targeted because they do their job, but it happens.”
The FBI agent knew Regan’s vulnerable points and hit them hard.
Regan stood up and walked out, leaving Charlie behind. It had taken all her strength to leave without screaming. O’Dare pushed all her buttons.
Portman followed her out. “Um, can I direct you somewhere?”
She whirled on him. “I don’t know you, but I will do everything I can to find out who killed Tommy, and I don’t think O’Dare has the desire or, frankly, the skills to do so. So stay out of my way.”
He looked nervous, glanced around at the people who may have overheard. “I promise, we’re keeping the Marshals fully in the loop. The assistant director—our boss—told us this morning that this was our number one priority. If you know what Deputy Granger was doing during his leave, that might help us.”
She stared at the young agent, assessing him. His eyes were sharp behind his glasses, his attitude alert, eager to please. But he wasn’t in charge, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything without O’Dare’s explicit approval.
“That’s between O’Dare and Charlie. I’m not a marshal anymore. But I’ll tell you this: I’m not sitting back and watching her screw this up like she screwed up my son’s murder investigation. You weren’t here then, so get up to speed and maybe you’ll be able to help this time.”
She walked to the elevator, punched the button for the lobby. She had to get out of this building. She had to think, to justbreathe.
