“Well then.” Vail pushed herself up from the chair. “I guess that means I should get back to work. I don’t want my unit chief to be unhappy . Thanks for keeping me in the loop.” She walked out and closed the door behind her a tad harder than was necessary.
42
Vail sat down heavily at her desk. Finding out which agents were assigned to Robby’s case would not be difficult. A quick call to the field office would give her the information in a matter of minutes. She reached for her phone and noticed the light was blinking. She lifted the receiver and retrieved her voice mail.
The automated faux persona said, “Message left at 8:46 AM, today.” A familiar voice boomed across the little speaker.
“You know who this is, Agent Vail. I thought you should know that by now, your friend is dead. Don’t ask how I know this because I’ll never tell you and you’ll never find out. But I have my sources. You see, I may not always operate within the law, but apparently neither do you.”
Click. The computer voice said, “Next message.”
She dropped the handset at her side and sat there, attempting to absorb what she had just heard. Think! Concentrate. The voice. The voice sounded like César Guevara’s. Robby is dead? He’s screwing with me. Revenge for breaking into his house. How did he know I was back in Virginia? Is Roxxann at risk?
“Hey.” Knock at the door. “Hey—”
Vail pulled her face up toward the voice.
“You okay?” Hector DeSantos asked. He walked toward her, but she did not move.
Think, can’t think, Robby is dead? Can he be trusted, how do I check if he’s right—
“Karen.” DeSantos had moved around her desk and was pulling her up and out of the chair. “Look at me. What’s wrong?”
Vail hung there in his arms. Her gaze swung down toward the phone. Talk. Tell him. She licked her lips. Dry mouth, tongue thick, sticky. “Call. Guevara’s voice. He said—he said—” She pulled her eyes toward his. “He said Robby’s dead.”
“The guy’s a scumbag, Karen. He’s just fucking with you. Ignore what he said.” He looked at her, then gave her a gentle shake. “Karen, focus on my voice. Listen to me.”
She closed her eyes tight, then opened them.
“Think for a second. Reason this through. Why would Guevara do something as blatant as leave you, a federal agent, a voice mail like that when he’s already under suspicion?”
Vail took a deep breath. DeSantos was trying to wring out her emotions, make her think. Back to logic. My comfort zone. “Because Guevara’s not a guy that’s pushed around by anyone. Because I broke into his house and went through his things. Given who he is, that’s a huge insult. Who the hell am I to do that to him and get away with it?”
“Leaving you a message like that may not be smart,” DeSantos said, “but he’s got a huge ego and he needed to strike back at you. Psychological warfare can be very effective.”
Guevara’s showing me he’s above the law. He wanted to get inside my head. And it worked.
DeSantos tilted his head, studied her face. “You look like you’re spacing out on me.”
Vail shook her head. “Yeah. No. I mean I’m here.”
“Good. Because I did some digging around, and I found out some shit you’re not going to like.”
She looked at him but did not answer.
“Come with me.”
DeSantos led Vail by the arm out of her office and down the hall. She was still numb, in a fugue like none she had ever experienced. Things moving by her, noises in the background. Robby’s alive. It’s not true. Just psychological warfare. But what if it’s not, what if—
“I accidentally came across something. It was classified and filed in a way that made my nose twitch.” He looked at her, then stopped walking and pushed her up against the wall. “You with me? I need your full attention, Karen.”
“Yeah. Yes.” She took a deep, uneven breath.
“I came across something unusual. So I sniffed under the rock, one thing led to another, I made a few phone calls . . . and I ended up at the deputy administrator for the DEA. But I hit a brick wall. I couldn’t get shit. Before I started calling in favors and getting the FBI director involved, I took another look at what I had, dug a little more, and found another name associated with all this, someone accessible who we’d be able to speak with.”
Vail straightened up, pushed away from the wall. Like smelling salts under the nostrils, her brain whipped back awake. “Who is it? I want to talk to this guy.”
DeSantos looked at her a long moment, then said, “I thought you might. Let’s go.”
Vail followed DeSantos down the hall—and into Thomas Gifford’s office.
“Can we have a moment with Mr. Gifford?” DeSantos asked.
Lenka hesitated, glanced at Vail, then at the sharply dressed DeSantos. “And you are—”
“Hector DeSantos, DoD.” He pulled a credentials wallet and held it in front of her face.
“What’s this about?”
“Agent Vail and I need a moment with ASAC Gifford.”
Vail shook her head. “Hector, we’re wasting time. Let’s just go and see this guy. I don’t need permission from my ASAC to leave the building.” She turned toward the door, but DeSantos grabbed her arm. “We don’t need to leave the building. The person you need to talk with is right here.”
Gifford’s door opened. Vail and Gifford faced each other. Gifford’s gaze flicked over to DeSantos.
“Hector De—”
“I know who you are,” Gifford said.
“We’re here about Detective Roberto Hernandez,” DeSantos said, then stepped forward and pushed past Gifford into his office.
Gifford stepped aside. “Sure, just come on in,” he mumbled. He turned toward Vail and said, “Are you coming, too?”
43
Gifford sat down in his chair. Very official and stiff. He folded his hands in front of him and rested them on the desk. “Is there something I can help you with?”
DeSantos leaned forward. “Oh yeah, I’d say there is.”
“Is there a problem, Mr. DeSantos? I detect an attitude.” DeSantos seemed to study Gifford a moment. Vail watched the warring male egos, relieved that she was not part of it.
“I was asked to assist in locating Detective Hernandez and—”
“I thought I told you there were agents working this case,” Gifford said, his hard brow and stern voice aimed at Vail.
“I’m talking to you at the moment,” DeSantos said.
“Excuse me? Listen here, Mr. DeSantos. I’m the assistant special—”
“I know what you are. Acronyms aside, you’re a goddamn liar.”
Gifford sat there, his entire head shading red with anger.
“Hector,” Vail said. “Back up a second. Please. Let’s keep this civil. What are you talking about? You said you found some information on Robby’s case.”
“Yes.” He turned to Gifford. “I got into a classified DEA file. I spoke with Deputy Administrator Donaldson but he wouldn’t tell me shit. But there was another name there. Yours.”
Gifford did not move. “So?”
“The other name in the file was Roberto Enrique Umberto Hernandez. Now I don’t know about you, but there aren’t two people I know of with that name. And I also know there isn’t a good goddamn reason why Roberto Hernandez’s name should be in a classified DEA file.”