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“I’m sorry about the rig, but I’ve got my orders,” Fuller said.

As they stepped through the door onto the roof the helicopter started up with a whine, drowning out Jesse’s question. Fuller helped him into the machine, fastened his seat belt, then took the facing seat. He clamped a headset on Jesse, then put one on himself.

Jesse reached for the switch that isolated the passenger compartment intercom from the pilot, then adjusted his microphone. “What’s going on, Kip?” he asked. The dull whine of the two turboprop engines made conversation noisy, even with the headset on.

“There’s not a lot I can tell you,” Fuller said. “Barker will explain.”

“Dan Barker?” Jesse asked, surprised. Barker had been his last superior on the South Florida Task Force. They had never liked each other. “What the hell does he want with me?”

“Barker is no longer DEA; he’s a deputy assistant attorney general now, and he took me with him to Justice. He’s in charge of a new special task force.”

“What kind of task force?”

“Barker will explain.” Fuller looked out the window; he seemed embarrassed.

“How’ve you and Arlene been, Kip?”

“We’ve both been very well,” Fuller replied. “Arlene likes living in Washington; she says she needs a place with seasons.” Fuller smiled. “There’s more good news: Arlene is pregnant.”

“That’s wonderful, and after trying so long. Always happens when you least expect it.”

“Thanks,” Fuller said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.” Then he looked embarrassed again. “Jesse, you look like absolute hell. What’s been going on?”

“Cons don’t like ex-cops,” he said.

“The assistant warden said you’d been in a lot of fights.”

“I didn’t start any of them.”

Fuller looked out the window again. “I tried to get them to put you inside under another name, so nobody would know. Barker killed that little effort. I’m sorry, Jesse; I did what I could.”

“I appreciate that, Kip,” Jesse replied.

“If this thing today doesn’t work out, I’ll try to get you moved to Leavenworth and work up a new identity. Now that I’m at Justice I have a little more clout, and maybe I can do it without Barker hearing about it.”

Jesse leaned forward in his seat. “Kip, was it Barker who hung me out to dry?”

Fuller shook his head. “I honestly don’t know, Jesse. I combed through all the paper on your case, all the depositions and testimony, and I couldn’t find a thing to hang on him. Certainly, he was in a position to do it, but so were half a dozen other people. I’m damned if I could ever find a motive.”

Jesse sat back. “Kip, there’s something I never told you, something important.”

“What’s that, Jesse?”

“I wasn’t entirely innocent.”

“What do you mean, exactly?”

“I was going to steal the evidence money; Bobby was going to help me. Beth’s medical bills were out of sight, and my only other alternative was bankruptcy. I wish I’d taken that route now, but it was something to do with the way my old man brought me up. A man who couldn’t pay his bills was worse than dirt to him, and bankruptcy was the worst possible shame. I even went to see a lawyer about it, but I just couldn’t do it. Then Bobby, who was the sweetest guy I ever knew, brought up the evidence locker and what was in it.”

“That doesn’t sound like Bobby Dunn,” Fuller said. “He was the straightest arrow I ever saw.”

Jesse nodded. “I know he was. And when he brought it up he made it sound, I don’t know... almost like I was entitled to the money. He even volunteered to move the cash from the locker to the car, while I was upstairs in a meeting. He said nobody would ever suspect him, and he was right; nobody ever did.”

“What about the coke and Bobby’s death?” Fuller asked.

“I had nothing to do with either one,” Jesse replied. “What I think happened is, when Bobby went to the evidence locker for the money, he got caught by somebody and that somebody cleaned everything out of the locker and stuffed some of it into my trunk, then shot Bobby and put him in there. There was about a million and a half more in that locker, and a ton of coke.”

“And they nailed you for all of it,” Fuller said.

“They did. And somebody walked away with the rest of the money and the drugs and never got caught. I always thought my best chance was that the guy would do something stupid and get nailed. But he didn’t; whoever he was he played it very smart. Barker is that smart.”

“He is,” Fuller said, “but I always thought it was one of the other agents. I never had a line on who, though.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes, then Jesse asked the question he had wanted to ask all along. “Did you ever get a line on Carrie?”

Fuller shook his head. “I tried again when I knew I was going to see you, but it was the same as when I wrote to you last year. I got hold of the woman in charge of the adoption agency a couple of days ago, tried to use a little Justice clout, but she wouldn’t budge. All she said was that the people were very nice, ideal adoptive parents. She said Carrie was very happy, and that if you knew the people, you’d be pleased. I hope that helps some.”

Jesse nodded. “Some. I just wish I could write to her and that she could write to me. There’s so much I want to tell her, and if I could hear from her then at least I’d know something about how she was being brought up.”

“Carrie’s young, Jess, and she’ll adapt very quickly. I know it’s hard for you, but I really think you should try to put that out of your mind. There’s absolutely nothing to be done about it. Believe me, I tried everything.”

Jesse looked out the window and saw an airport. “Where are we going, Kip?”

“That’s Fulton County Airport; the locals call it Charlie Brown. We’re going to a meeting there.”

“With Barker?”

Fuller nodded.

“Any advice, Kip?”

Fuller looked uncomfortable, but he seemed to be thinking about it. Finally, he looked up. “Barker needs you pretty bad. You’re not in much of a position to negotiate, but you might remember that.” He looked out the window again. “I won’t be able to help you, Jess; remember that, too.”

The helicopter was hovering over the tarmac outside what looked like an office building. Finally it set down, and the pilot cut the engines. Fuller helped Jesse out of the aircraft and across the tarmac to a door at the end of the building, then up a flight of stairs.

Finally, Fuller opened a door and ushered Jesse into a conference room. A soft drink machine sat in a corner beside a coffee pot. Sitting at the table was the man Jesse held responsible for his incarceration and the loss of his daughter, the man he hated most in the world.

“Hello, Jesse,” Barker said.

“Hello, Dan.” Barker was the epitome of civil service smoothness, Jesse thought.

“Have a seat. Would you like a cup of coffee or a cold drink?”

“Some coffee, please.”

Fuller went to the coffee pot. “Black, as I remember.”

“That’s right,” Jesse replied.

“It’s not great coffee,” Barker said, “but I expect it’s better than what you’ve been getting.”

“I expect.”

Fuller handed Jesse the cup, and he raised his cuffed hands to receive it. “You think I could take the restraints off now, Dan?” Fuller asked.

“I think not,” Barker replied. “So, Jesse, how are things in prison?”

Jesse had still not sat down. “Dan, I’m not talking to you while I’m wearing this.” He held up his cuffed hands. “So you can either get this stuff off me right now or go fuck yourself.” Jesse knew he was flirting with a trip back to prison, but he was angry.