“You’re a good man, Jack.” Terra stared at him.
He struggled to believe those words coming from her, of all people. He wanted to be a good man. He tried to be, even as he constantly fought the fear that he had a weakness that would cause him to fail, to let someone down. Like his father had let him down in the worst possible way. Terra knew some of that struggle inside him. Did she know it played the biggest role in his leaving her behind and pursuing the FBI?
“I was sorry to hear about your cousin’s death last year.” Terra frowned at her empty plate, then glanced up at him. “I know it’s hard to talk about. I just wanted you to know. You came back for your aunt to comfort her, didn’t you?”
How much should he tell her? He nodded. “Yes. It was then that I learned about the dementia.”
“And decided to stay.” Terra reached over and pressed her hand over his.
Guilt suffused him. There was so much more to it. He wanted to tell her, but not yet. Maybe not ever.
“Like I said, you’re a good man.” Her cheeks colored, and she turned her attention to taking their plates to the sink.
I wish you’d stop saying that.
How could she say that—think that—after what he’d done, the way he’d left and hurt her? How did he even broach that topic or begin to apologize? He found it difficult to even thank her for the compliment, because there were things she didn’t know that would probably change her mind about him if she found out. He had to turn this conversation far away from him.
“And not only do you make great pies, you’re a great investigator. I always knew you would make something of yourself. Something worthy of the legacy from which you came.”
There, he’d subtly let her know his thoughts. He hadn’t been cut from that same kind of hero cloth, and the two of them sewn together just wouldn’t work. That served as a great reminder to him. He had thought if he could make something of himself, things could be different. But he’d failed in the worst kind of way. He wasn’t even man enough to own up to the truth with Aunt Nadine.
Except his compliment had earned him a frown. She hadn’t liked his reference to her mother’s heroism? He opened his mouth to ask her more—
“We need to talk about the investigation,” she said. “There’s something I’ve been thinking I should do.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Jack crossed his arms.
“I need to pay a visit to a friend in prison.”
“You have a friend in prison?”
“Friend is a loose term. I put a man in prison when I testified six months ago about an illegal pothunting ring. It was part of a sting I was involved in with the NPS.”
“You mentioned that before.”
“I’m not sure if he’ll have anything to share with us. I don’t know that even if he does know something, he’ll be willing to share. But it’s worth a try.”
“And if he won’t share information?”
“I’ll threaten him, of course.”
Jack leaned back in his chair, almost amused. “With what?”
A crooked grin hitched half her face. “His mother.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll threaten to tell her a few things that he doesn’t want her to know.”
Jack scratched his head. “Okay, I look forward to hearing more about this.”
His cell buzzed with a text. He read it out loud.
Couldn’t find Neva Bolz’s computer or laptop. No cell either.
Jack looked at Terra. “Seems she must have kept important information on her devices.”
Terra leaned against the counter. “Important enough to murder her and steal?”
“The guy we chased wasn’t carrying a laptop.”
“No, but he could have had her cell or even a tablet on him.”
Jack replied to the text as he said, “I’m requesting that all her digital devices be tracked, if possible. We’ll need to search her office at her place of employment too.”
“If she actually has one. Maybe she’s a freelance consultant.”
“We’re looking into all of it and should know something in the morning.” They needed a good solid lead into the person behind the deaths. Jack was glad he’d tasked Linda with watching over the private investigator.
He hoped Neva’s death would be the last. It was one thing to track a serial killer or a human trafficker while working in the FBI, but here in this county in a low-population state like Montana, it boggled his mind.
Owen stepped into the kitchen, and Jack put his cell away.
“You guys are going to eat all the pie!” He rushed to the counter.
Jack had only ever met Owen once. He was in the Middle East when Jack met Terra, and then he came home for a bit. It was later that Jack pulled his big disappearing act, and no doubt Owen heard from Terra and her grandfather that Jack had led her on and then abandoned her.
“I’ll get you a big slice, Owen,” Terra said. “You remember Jack, don’t you?”
Owen’s smile was genuine as he sat at the table, so Jack relaxed—if only a little. Owen thrust out his hand, and Jack shook it.
“I hope you’re coming to the welcome home party this weekend.”
“Well”—Jack looked to Terra—“I’d love to. That is, if I’m invited.”
“You’re invited.” Owen’s smile grew bigger as he stuffed his face with pie and eyed Terra.
When she finally slid her gaze to Jack, he hoped she would answer his silent question—Do you want me there?
But he was left with the awkward sense that she would not have invited him.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Sitting in the cabin near the forest’s edge at the Gallatin Motel and Cabins where he was staying, Chance was officially out of funds, but he couldn’t go back to his life until he resolved the missing package.
Blevins had been paid to forget.
But Chance had chosen to forget.
What had Blevins meant? He hadn’t given him the opportunity to find out, because he left the bar when a deputy entered. Chance had remained in the booth until he could exit without being noticed. He had to find out who had been behind the package, behind the years of blackmail, before he was found and blocked from getting answers and preventing more loss of life.
Years of blackmail. Why didn’t he put an end to it long ago?
Palms sweating, Chance repeatedly clenched his hands as he stood up and began to pace. He’d tried to avoid thinking about what had happened before. He’d pushed that far behind him and moved on. Carved out a new life.
Except his eyes were suddenly opened to the truth. He’d deceived himself for far too long. His past remained a constant knocking in the dark corners of his mind. But he’d already paid for his crimes. A higher price had been exacted than he ever could have imagined.
One mistake. One errant thought had led to a few misdeeds and cost him everything.
And he didn’t want to think about any of it.
But if he could remember every detail of the past, that could help him solve what was happening now. He knew in his gut this was true.
He had to find whoever had blackmailed him all those years ago and coerced him into making a few shipments now and again, controlling his life and taking everything from him.
He’d been afraid to refuse to cooperate before. Afraid and stupid.
That was then. This was now.
He was older, maybe a little wiser.
Chance pulled the curtains open and let the greenery of the forest calm him. He was safe, and no one would find him here. Resting on the double bed, he stared at the log ceiling. He closed his eyes and thought back to his life-altering mistake almost twenty years ago.
The memory of the thrumming rotors on the AH-64 Apache he’d piloted for the Army’s 11th Aviation Regiment filled his head. A city was sprawled beneath him when he’d been expecting desert. After the initial “shock and awe” of the campaign, the desert became his constant companion—one of the hottest places he’d eve
r had the displeasure of enduring.
Chance sat up on the edge of the creaking bed and rubbed his eyes.
His head still ached from the plane crash. He wasn’t sure it would ever go away, but thinking back to those years increased the throbbing.
He inhaled deeply. He could do this. He had to do this.
“Oh, God, why was I so stupid?”
Chance forced his thoughts to that moment in time. That moment when he’d made the wrong choice. At the time, it had seemed innocent enough.
Even now, at the memory, he could taste the desert sand on his tongue.
TWENTY-NINE
Terra had been able to charter a flight in a small plane owned and piloted by Ned Campbell, a retired forest service ranger related to Nathan and a friend of Gramps. There had been no question that Jack would join her—her archaeological investigation was intimately connected to his murder investigation.
Ned landed at a small airport near Denver, where Terra had rented a car. Jack finally ended the call that had taken up the short drive to the correctional facility.
“Well, that sounded informative,” she said.
“Star Oil Company is based out of Tulsa. According to her sister, Jan, who lives in Bozeman, Neva owned the home in Big Rapids. But working for Star Oil as a consultant required so much travel that she finally decided to rent out the house. That’s why it appeared empty of her personal effects. She had made a trip home this week to gather the rest of her things and settle some accounts. Jan and her husband had planned to move the bed and furniture out for their college-aged daughter next week.”
Terra absorbed the news and let the moment of deep sorrow pass.
“I’m curious about those accounts she mentioned and what her dealings with Jim Raymond could be, though we have our suspicions. I’d like to know what she really did for the company.”
“We’re in process now.”
“I know it takes time.” Terra would do some digging of her own too. But they needed more information. Where and why did Neva travel? After flashing their credentials at the gate, Terra steered into the low-security federal prison, then entered the parking lot. She found a spot at the back.
Jack sighed. “This Joey DeMarco. Tell me about him before we get out of the vehicle.”
Ned had done most of the talking on the flight, and Terra hadn’t wanted to discuss their investigation in front of him. “He’s the mastermind behind a big scheme to dig up the pots and sacred cultural items. He had a network of people and auction houses on the dark web through which he sold the items. A few ended up being resold on eBay. That’s ultimately how he was taken down. I worked undercover for eight months on the case. Testified, as I mentioned, six months ago. Joey . . . he’s not what you would expect.”
“How so?”
She opened the car door. “You’ll see.”
They got out of the vehicle and walked toward the entrance to the sprawling complex surrounded by a double-fenced perimeter. Once again, they flashed their credentials and then signed the required paperwork.
A man stepped through a side door. “Special Agent Connors? Detective Tanner?”
“Yes.” They spoke in unison.
“I’m Agent Bill Janssen, Bureau of Prisons Special Investigative Services.”
Terra shook the man’s hand. “Thanks so much for approving and coordinating this.”
He gave a bland smile. “I’ll take you to see Mr. DeMarco and will be supervising your visit today.”
Terra wasn’t sure if that meant he would listen to their conversation, but she would take what she could get. Part of her wondered if this would lead them nowhere.
Agent Janssen led Terra and Jack down a sterile hallway into the facility that housed almost two thousand criminals guilty of mostly white-collar crimes. Janssen opened a door and ushered them into a small room with a table and chairs.
Terra took a seat while Jack remained standing at the edge of the table.
Janssen remained next to the door. “Since his incarceration is largely due to your testimony and efforts, I’m going to give you privacy with the inmate.”
He nodded and stepped through the door before closing it. Not that it should matter whether he stayed or gave them privacy, but Terra felt restrained in the man’s company.
Jack crossed his arms. “No wall or window separating us here.”
“Because Joey isn’t a violent criminal. That’s why he’s in Club Fed.” Another name for a white-collar, or a low- or medium-security, facility.
“Given the reasons we’re here,” Jack added, “I’m not so sure. I don’t like this.”
“We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think there was a chance he could give us information—something he was able to hide from the task force. Something that will help us in this murder investigation.”
Jack’s response was to stand in the corner.
Terra’s heart rate jumped. She worked to calm her breathing and appear relaxed so Joey would remain relaxed too. “Everyone involved in Joey’s group was shut down. But his isn’t the only artifact-trafficking organization out there. I just want to see if he can offer up anything else.”
“He’ll want a reduced sentence in exchange.”
She pursed her lips, then said, “He only got eighteen months as it was. But as I said, I have some leverage.”
“Right. The mother. I look forward to watching you work.” Jack hitched a grin and, oddly, that reassured her.
It was taking too long for him to arrive. Was he refusing to see her? She might as well tell Jack what she’d wanted him to see firsthand.
Terra lowered her voice. “Joey is a twentysomething computer nerd who still has acne. He looks much too young to have been such a big player. But it was because of his tech-savvy skills and love of digging up artifacts from a young age that he was able to grow a far-reaching trafficking organization.”
“Interesting. So, he’s close to his mother.”
“He lives with her, yes, well, not while he’s incarcerated. She’s sick, and he partly used his talents for illicit gain to care for her. She didn’t know anything about his activities, and when she found out, it almost destroyed her.” Terra hated that awful part of the investigation.
“And you’re okay using that relationship as leverage?”
She heard the incredulity in his tone.
“I hope it doesn’t go that far, but two people have been murdered. Pauline died indirectly. Relax, I’m not a monster.”
The door opposite from where they had entered opened and in stepped Joey DeMarco, looking no worse for the wear. His eyes widened, then his brows shifted into a deep frown. He grudgingly plodded over to sit and stare at her.
“Hey, Joey. You look good.”
“Prison life hasn’t been so bad. Not what you wanted to hear, I bet. What are you doing here?”
“I’ve set you on the straight and narrow path, Joey. I hear you met Jesus.”
“Yeah. So? I’m attending a Bible study.” He suddenly stared at his hands, and his expression softened. “Okay, yeah. I’m doing okay. I guess maybe I do owe you for that.”
“I’m glad I could help.” Terra paced herself.
“You haven’t explained what you’re doing here.”
Here goes nothing. Or everything. Her palms grew moist. “I’ve come to ask for your help.”
“Help from me? You’ve already taken down my whole organization. I’ve got nothing to offer you.”
How much should she share? If it meant preventing another murder, then she would be up-front. “Joey, two people have been murdered.”
His eyes shot to hers, then to Jack, who shifted in the corner. “What? And you think I know something about that? Well, you’re wrong. I don’t know anything.”
“And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
Terra saw that thought in his expression, but she pressed on. “Maybe not, but you know names. You know someone is still out there. Someone we didn’t get.”
Joey
stood and the chair fell back. He moved to the exit and raised his fist to pound on the door.
“I’m going to see your mother next.” Terra hadn’t wanted to pull that card so soon, if at all.
He held his fist in the air but didn’t knock on the door. Then he dropped it.
Joey returned to the table and sat. He hung his head, then lifted his pubescent-looking face and leaned closer as if he would whisper a secret.
“I’m out of here in a few months. I’m doing my time. I’m changing my ways. I don’t need you messing up my home for me. I don’t want to go home to find my mother still angry at me, or mad over whatever you think you’re gonna tell her. Remember, she has a heart condition. This whole thing almost killed her. That’s on me. I admit, that’s on me, but it would have been fine if you hadn’t interfered.”
Shame washed through Terra. “I know. I understand. Please . . . I would not have come to you if I wasn’t desperate. I don’t want anyone else to die. Your crimes never amounted to murder, Joey, so if you know something, you need to share that information. You don’t want to be an accessory to that.”
“Is that a threat? Because I can’t tell you anything yet. I need more, like why did you come to me with this?”
Terra leaned in too. She and Joey were close. Jack sat down in the chair next to her, a show of intimidation and protection.
“If two people have been murdered,” she said, “then someone could be shutting down loose ends and moving shop. Or they’re feeling threatened in some way. Who is it? Who is moving your kind of contraband through Montana?”
Joey’s face paled, and his acne turned bright red. “I don’t know anything about Montana. Even if I did, and I told you anything, then I could be threatened next. My mother’s life threatened.”
Terra leaned against the seat back and drew circles on the table. “You know something, Joey. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Before you took me down, I was trying to expand my operations.”
“Expand? What are you saying?”
“You have to think bigger.”
Terra shook her head. “I need a name. Something.”
Present Danger Page 14
