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“Geraldine disappeared shortly after her husband, and may or may not be dead. Their children, Francine and Douglas, left the program when they came of age. No one knows where they are. You think they might have found their father and, what, exacted revenge for his walking out on them?”
Gibson said, “From what I’ve learned about Harry Langhorne, his kids were probably thrilled when he left. But I can’t say they didn’t kill him. Not for sure.”
“I take it you’ve been talking to Earl Beckett with the US Marshals Service?”
“Sullivan and I met with him, yes. He actually was the handler for the Langhornes at their last stop.”
“But you still think they might be good for his murder? Get back at the old man for being such a tyrant?” asked Pinker.
“People have killed for less.”
“Yes, they have. And Daryl Oxblood?”
“I understand his real name was Bruce Hall,” noted Gibson.
“You understand incorrectly. Bruce Hall was his WITSEC name. His actual name was BruceDixon.”
Bruce Dixon? BD? The initials in the comic book.Gibson tried not to show her excitement. “Okay, thanks for that clarification.”
She loved it when know-it-alls like Pinker just couldn’t resist showing their superior knowledge. But she bet the man would later regret telling her that.
She said, “It seems the same person who killed Langhorne killed Oxblood. Same phrase on the wall. Can’t be a coincidence, not that I believe in those, anyway.”
“But why kill him?” asked Pinker.
“Beckett wouldn’t tell me anything about him.”
Pinker said, “The Dixons were neighbors of the Langhornes in New Mexico. Bruce and Francine were friends,closefriends, by all accounts.”
Thank you again. And that one really is important.
She wondered why he was telling her this, when Beckett hadn’t even told her the Dixons knew the Langhornes.
Gibson noted, “Beckett said they sometimes consolidated WITSEC families for budget and manpower purposes. But they weren’t supposed to tell anyone their real identities.”
“And you think kids or adults always follow the rules?” asked Pinker.
“My kids don’t and they’re just toddlers. I can only imagine what teenagers can get up to. No, I take that back. I remember my teenage years, so the sky’s the limit.”
Pinker nodded, looking thoughtful. “It might have seemed cool for them. Like being in some elite club that only they knew about. So, Harry Langhorne is dead. And Francine Langhorne’s WITSEC friend from decades ago is dead, too. What do you think is going on? Is it connected to thetreasure?”
“If I knew, I’d tell you, Agent Pinker.”
“Why don’t I believe that?”
CHAPTER56
CLARISSE SAT IN FRONT OFher twin computer screens staring down at assorted burner phones and notebooks conspicuously labeled for each project she had going.
Gibson knows about Julia Frazier’s being in The Plains, Virginia. She knows about the comic book and the initials. She saw the phrase on the wall.
She opened a notebook labeled, simply,THE PAST.
She turned to one page and stared down at the initials she had written there.
BD and RE.
She had once been sentimental, sometimes even caring. She could no longer be that way. Part of her was okay with that, and part of her, a constantly diminishing part, wasn’t.
