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Keira saw the light come into Callahan’s eyes, saw him make the connection Cody was leading up to. She didn’t get it yet, but she knew Cody and Callahan were somehow on the same wavelength already.
Cody was smiling, and his eyes blazed with the same light as Callahan’s. He turned to her. “Didn’t you say that super PAC, NOANC, has received thousands of smaller donations from across the country?” he asked her.
“Yes,” she answered, glancing at her partner, hoping for a sign he knew where this was leading, but he shook his head. “Trace and I saw the donors lists filed with the Federal Election Commission going back to its inception.”
“Grassroots,” Callahan said softly. “Wasn’t that the word you used?”
Then she got it, and her eyes widened. “The militia? Vishenko’s using the militia to fund his super PAC?”
“Not entirely,” Cody said. “The Praetor Corporation still has to kick in big-time. But it fits beautifully. If the super PAC was only funded by one company, that would be a red flag. But with thousands of individual donors across the country...NOANC flies under the radar.”
“And Vishenko’s hit list?” she asked.
“Personal, just as we thought. Nothing to do with the New World Militia.”
Trace spoke up. “What about Tressler’s death?” he asked. “Maybe it’s not related, but can we take that chance? There still could be a connection somehow, something we’re not seeing.”
Callahan nodded and looked at Cody. “He’s right. We can’t completely ignore it. Steve was dying, but he didn’t drive to the hospital. He drove to my house to warn me. To tell me whatever it was and to give me that key. It was important enough to him, that...” He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, and Keira realized again that he wasn’t as cold and uncaring as he appeared to be.
He couldn’t be, she thought suddenly. Or Cody wouldn’t care about him the way he does. And Cody did care about him. It wasn’t just Mandy and her children he’d been worried about, it was Callahan, too. What had Cody said last night? “We probably could have been friends if not for...” If not for Mandy. That’s what he almost said. But Cody doesn’t love Mandy anymore. He loves me. And Ryan Callahan is his friend, whether he realizes it or not.
D’Arcy had been listening quietly this whole time. Now he spoke. “I’ve seen the autopsy on Steve Tressler, same as you. He didn’t die from those gunshot wounds—not directly. None of them hit a vital organ. He died from loss of blood.”
Callahan looked grim. “Other than the fact he was beaten before he died, and that the evidence clearly points to the crime occurring at his cabin, we don’t know a hell of a lot. And I can’t think of anyone who might have had it in for him...other than the New World Militia.”
“They recovered three .357 slugs from Tressler’s body,” D’Arcy told him, “two of which are in good enough shape for a match. If you find the gun. And there’s something else. Whoever shot him made two crucial mistakes, which means—”
“He’s not a professional.” Callahan interjected. “Yeah, I’d already thought of that. He should have made sure Steve was dead...and he should have searched the body to make sure Steve didn’t have any incriminating evidence on him.” He smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Those mistakes will cost him.”
“Black Rock is a small town,” Keira said. “Has anyone given any indication they know something about his death? What I mean is,” she clarified, “has anyone expressed undue concern about his death who shouldn’t? Or on the other hand, has anyone who should be worried about his death not shown it?”
Callahan shook his head. “No, and in the past two weeks I’ve interviewed just about every resident of the town in some way. Nothing has seemed out of kilter, and I haven’t gotten even a hint of anybody hiding anything. Everyone knew him, and everyone seems duly shocked. Either his murderer is an incredible actor, or I haven’t talked to him.”
“What about his employer?” Keira asked.
