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“Good point,” he acknowledged. “I need to make a call to someone at the FBI and see if he has any information that could be of use to us. I need to know who to contact once we make it to Chicago. The zoo is always crowded, there are plenty of places to get lost if we need to, and do you see all of these towers surrounding us? They’ll confuse the phone signal and give us a little extra time to get away if someone’s listening in on my conversation.”
“Do you think we lost the guy who shot at us in New Orleans?”
“I haven’t noticed anyone tailing us, but it never hurts to be careful. I would never underestimate anyone who works for your family. They are professional and persistent.”
“You seem to know a lot about my family.”
Shane kept his face blank while wishing he could kick his own ass. It was in everyone’s best interest for Rachel to never find out how well he knew the major players in her father’s organization. “Everyone who has ever worked for the FBI knows something about your family,” he hedged. He took her hand and led her into the zoo. “From what you told me about the conversation with your attorney, they could already have Marsh’s phones tapped. Stay alert. If it is your uncle behind the attacks you might recognize someone.”
“Doubtful. My father had more than two hundred employees, but I would bet that my Uncle Angelo has moved his own men up in the ranks. Just to ensure loyalty. It’s what I would do.”
They found a shaded spot near the elephants that was relatively quiet, and Shane pulled out one of the disposable cell phones. He dialed a number that had a few too many digits and waited as he was connected to Washington, DC.
“I need to speak with Director Boyle. Tell him Shane Quincy is on the line.”
“So the prodigal son returns,” Harlan Boyle said after a few minutes. His voice was dark and rich like expensive chocolate, and a hint of the south still lingered no matter how hard he tried to get rid of it. “I knew you’d come back, boy. A man like you isn’t meant to sit behind a desk.”
Shane felt comfort in his old supervisor’s words because he knew they were sincere. It hadn’t been Harlan Boyle’s fault that Shane’s last job had turned into his own personal hell. Harlan Boyle had only been deputy director at the time. “Sorry to disappoint you, sir, but the desk suits me well.”
“Doubtful, but I’ll let you have your illusions. To what do I owe the honor of this phone call?”
“I have information on the Dominic Valentine situation. I need to know who the contact is in the Chicago office.”
Director Boyle let out a low whistle. “That’s a pie you don’t want to stick your fingers in, son. People have a tendency to disappear when they know too much about the Valentines.”
Shane glanced at Rachel out of the corner of his eye. Her dark head was tilted back against a shade tree, her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and even. He would have thought she was asleep except for the way her hands were clamped together in a white-knuckled grip.
“I know, sir. But sometimes you just have to do what’s right. I’ve got information that could potentially save a lot of people and a witness I’m trying to protect. There are very few people I can trust right now.”
“I guess I should be flattered I’m on the short list,” Harlan said. “But I’d prefer you not tell anyone you got the information from me. Director Shaw runs the Chicago office, and Special Agent Culver was one of his men. Shaw wasn’t too happy to find Culver practically decapitated and fed to the fishes, and he’s lost two other agents since then. You can imagine why no one works too hard to find where Dominic Valentine and his infamous list ended up.”
“You think there’s a leak on the inside?”
“They haven’t found any evidence to prove it, and believe me, they’ve looked. I believe the agent who headed up the internal investigation is a buddy of yours. Jones Daugherty.”
“You’re kidding me? He’s working IA?” Shane was speechless. Jones “Wildcat” Daugherty had been the team leader of the Alpha Squadron, a unit of seven men specialized in taking down terrorists. The Alpha Squadron had done two tours in Afghanistan together, but Shane had lost touch with everyone he’d served with after he’d left the FBI. The last he’d heard, Wildcat was climbing up the military career ladder.
“I can’t see Wildcat Daugherty working for the FBI. Talk about someone who shouldn’t be sitting behind a desk.”
“Word around the Bureau is that he’s damned good at it,” Harlan said. “He’s cleaned up a lot of messes in just a few months, but the Valentine situation isn’t one of them.”
“Thanks for the information, sir. I owe you one.”
“I’ve got a job here for you whenever you’re ready to come back.”
“I don’t owe you that much,” Shane said with a laugh and hung up.
“Did you get the information you needed?” Rachel asked.
“Some of it. I don’t want to make contact with the Chicago office until we’re on the move again.” Shane stood and stretched his muscles. He grabbed Rachel by the hand and pulled her into his arms, rubbing the knotted muscles at her shoulders.
“I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job,” she said, “but there’s a man in a hat over there who seems awfully interested in us.”
Shane pulled her closer so it looked as if they were embracing and whispered in her ear. “Yeah, it took him about five minutes to find us after I called my old headquarters.”
“I thought the towers were supposed to give us a little time.”
“Theoretically. But I know for sure now that Angelo has a plant inside the FBI. There’s no other way they could have tracked us that fast otherwise.”
