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Arch had gone back and done two more tours before coming back and getting recruited by the FBI. He was now on a task force that fought organized crime. I’d tried to get him to come work for me after he mustered out, but he hadn’t been interested. Too much history, he told me. I sensed the life-debt weighed on him.
Well, hell. Maybe if he helped me out today, it would weigh a little less.
The number rang, three times…four... and he picked up.
“Yo, Ethan,” he said, in a sleep-addled croak. “Do you know what time it is?”
I had not, in fact, thought about how early it was on the east coast. Hell, it was early for me here on the west coast. Freya always said I was too accustomed to the whole world dancing to my tune.
“Sorry, man,” I said. “I forgot about the time difference.”
“The concept of time zones escapes you. With that tech genius brain of yours.”
“Selective intelligence,” I said. “I’m as dumb as a rock about some things.”
“Good to know,” Arch grumbled. “Okay, I’m awake. What do you need?”
“Got a favor to ask,” I said. “I need some information.”
There was a nervous pause on the other end of the line. “You know damn well I can’t compromise myself professionally. Not even as a favor for a friend.”
“Of course not. You don’t have to. I have a woman friend, twenty-eight years old. She told me she was put into Witness Protection fourteen years ago, after testifying against a mobster. The guy killed her older sister, nineteen, and her youngest sister, seven. She called them Rafaella and Gabriella. I don’t know if those are their real names. I think it happened in the Tri-State area, judging by her accent and other details, like the sister having to give up a scholarship to Columbia University, stuff like that. She currently goes by the name Katrin Banner, and claims to have been brought up in San Diego. Or she did before she confessed about the mobster and the sisters, anyway.”
“So? What the hell do you need me for? She’s your friend, right? She’s the expert on her own life story. She can tell you whatever you need to know without compromising her career or her integrity. Unlike me.”
“Don’t be a tight-ass, Arch. I need to corroborate that story. I’m under pressure here to keep my family safe. You know what I’m fighting against. And you owe me.”
“You lean hard on that,” Arch complained.
“I try not to lean too hard on that bullet scar in my belly,” I said. “It still hurts me when I bench more than two-fifty.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“Two things,” I said. “One, is her story is true? It’s a yes-or-no question. And two, if it is true, what’s the name of the mobster? That’s it. All I want from you.”
“Shit,” Arch said under his breath. “You’re in love with this girl, aren’t you?”
“That’s none of your damn business, Arch. Can you help me?”
“Is this related to Shane’s abduction?”
“It is now. She saved my life. And those fuckheads are after her now because of it. She’s my responsibility now. I just need to be sure of the details.”
“Wow, she saved your life? Lucky her. That means she gets to have you be her indentured servant in this life and the next, right?”
“Don’t whine, Arch, it’s unbecoming. I gave you the data. All I need is a confirmation. Yes, no, and the name of the killer. You can do it. I know you can.”
“Send me a picture of her,” Arch said sourly.
I snapped a furtive shot of Kat through the glass of the sunroom, and zoomed in to make sure it showed her whole face. She looked hunted, as one would, being scolded by Angela, but she was recognizable. I sent it, and went back to the call. “Sent.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Arch growled. “No promises.”
“I’m trying to keep what’s left of my family alive, Arch,” I said. “If you can help me, great. If not, whatever.”
“Fine, gotcha. Talk later.”
Bad-tempered bastard. Arch was not the most amiable of the Unredeemables crowd, but he always came through.
