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“Paramilitary in name, then, but not really,” Keira threw in.
Cody nodded, remembering what McKinnon had said about her military service; she knew what he meant. “Then we both testified at a series of trials of the militia’s remaining top brass. That, along with the plea-bargained testimony of Carl Walsh and Larry Brooks—”
“Wasn’t Walsh Pennington’s second in command at one point?”
“You’ve done your homework.” Cody felt a flash of admiration for her, and pride. Pride? he wondered. Why pride? “Yeah. He was,” Cody continued, shaking off his errant thoughts. “And Larry Brooks was a federal marshal. It’s a bit complicated. Brooks and your partner were both working the witness security program under Nick D’Arcy. They were supposed to be protecting Ryan Callahan.”
“Trace did mention that already. He also said he and D’Arcy had to clean up the mess...after the fact,” she said, referring to collecting all the evidence and witness statements related to Pennington’s death and having it ruled a justifiable homicide.
Cody wasn’t really paying attention to what Keira was saying. He could feel it getting to him, his memories coming alive in gruesome detail as he recounted the story. But she had to know what they were up against. She had to understand, and he wasn’t going to sugarcoat it for her. “The year before Pennington was killed, Brooks was instrumental in betraying Callahan’s onetime partner, Josh Thurman, to the militia. Callahan was working the inside. Thurman was working the outside. The militia kidnapped Thurman’s wife and infant son after Pennington’s conviction, offering to trade their hostages for information—Callahan’s whereabouts.”
He drew a quick breath. “But Thurman didn’t know where Callahan was,” he said softly. “The militia tortured him, but he couldn’t tell them what he didn’t know.” His voice dropped a notch. “So they tortured his wife and baby in front of his eyes.” He closed his own eyes for an instant, experiencing in his gut the agony the other man must have gone through. “Then, when it was obvious Thurman would tell them where Callahan was if he knew, the militia decided he really had nothing to give them. So they murdered all three of them and dumped their bodies.”
A small gasp escaped Keira, and their eyes met. Hers contained the horror he’d known she would feel over the senseless murder of a baby. “If the new organization is anything like the old one, that’s the kind of people we’re dealing with,” he told her implacably. “They believe in their cause—fanatically. Nothing is beyond them, not even the murder of children. They’re domestic terrorists, plain and simple.”
Chapter 8
“That’s why we can’t take any chances,” Cody told Keira roughly. “That’s why Callahan wanted his wife and children safely out of the way, where the militia can’t touch them. No one knows better than him what they’re capable of. He lived it.”
Her face was solemn and still. “You lived it, too,” she reminded him.
Cody shook his head. “Not the way he did. My involvement was more on the periphery, at least until the end.”
Callahan stirred in his sleep, drawing Cody’s eyes toward him. “Let’s go outside,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to wake him.”
They sat side by side on the front-porch steps. The sun shone weakly overhead, but it was still cool, and the snow hadn’t melted all the way.
Cody picked up his story. “D’Arcy knew I was also undercover in the militia. He sent Callahan to Black Rock because he figured I’d be able to keep a watchful eye on him, and if Pennington’s men ever tracked him here I’d hear about it in advance and could warn him. That’s when Ryan Callahan assumed the name of Reilly O’Neill.” One corner of Cody’s mouth curled up in a smile he knew didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s when he met Mandy.”
“I see.” There was a wealth of understanding in those two words.
Cody looked down at Keira, but she avoided his gaze. “You picked up on that already, didn’t you?” he asked, watching her delicate profile, drawn to her in ways that baffled him with their complexity...as well as their simplicity.
