Edge of Black Page 13

  The drive was a mile long, dirt and gravel, which meant the vehicle had to go slow or risk sliding off the edges into the ditches on either side. Well defensible. It took five minutes to make the trek up to the house, a two-story A-frame similar to Xander’s parents’ place. Crawford was waiting in the turnabout with the advertised Remington on his shoulder and one of the Dobermans, a red bitch, quivering at his side.

  “Good grief. Man looks like he’s ready to go to war. This is Colorado, not Afghanistan.”

  “Once a soldier,” Xander said. “You want to talk first?”

  “That might be best.”

  They exited the vehicle slowly, so as not to excite either the dog or Crawford too much.

  “Stu. Moonbeam was in town, wanted to pay you a visit. You mind putting the gun away?”

  Crawford regarded them shrewdly, head cocked to the side. Once he’d assessed the situation, confirmed that his visitors were who they said they were, were unaccompanied and unarmed, he welcomed them with open arms.

  “Come on in. Mi casa, and all that.”

  Chapter 22

  They settled at the kitchen table with coffee, and shot the shit for a few minutes before Xander felt it was time to get down to business.

  “Sir, I was wondering if you’d seen your son Will lately.”

  “Well, that’s a strange as hell coincidence. He’s here for a visit. Out hunting right now, turkey. Should be back before dark. Why do you need him?”

  “It’s about a website I think he may run. We had a situation down near where I live and the site went dark right after. I wanted to ask him about it.”

  “A situation? You’re talking about that damn fool who attacked the subway in the viper’s den? Not sure that’s a bad thing, that son of a bitch Leighton got caught up in it. Glad to see him go.”

  Xander left that alone. “Yes, that’s what it’s about. I just need to chat with Will about someone who’d been on the site. I assume he took it down because he and I are both thinking the same thing.”

  “Now, you don’t be dragging my boy into any messes, Moon. I remember the trouble the two of you used to get in.”

  “Goodness, no, sir. I’m a grown-up now. The only trouble I get into is all good clean fun.”

  The dogs started to bark, and a moment later the door opened from the deck and William Crawford stalked into the room. He was taller and heavier than Xander remembered, but muscled, his shoulders straining against his hunting camo. He was still towheaded, the hair on his scalp thinned to show the pinkness underneath. He saw Xander and Roth and did a double take. Xander caught the alarm on his face, knew at once his theory was correct. Will did know something.

  The younger Crawford collected himself quickly, started in with a swagger.

  “Well, well, well. Why are you here, Xander Moon?”

  “Now, Will, is that any way to greet an old friend?” his father chided.

  Xander showed Will his palms, happy that at least someone was using a part of his preferred name. When he’d declared he wanted to be called Xander, the girls in his circle seized upon the nickname Xander Moon, and that stuck.

  “I come in peace. The site went down, I was worried about you.”

  Will’s florid face stayed carefully neutral. “So worried that you flew two thousand miles to check up on me? That’s awful sweet of you. And not necessary, as you can see. I’m just fine.”

  “Can we speak in private, Will?”

  He shrugged and sat on the couch next to his father. Helped himself to some coffee.

  “Nothing you have to say needs hid. What bee got in your bonnet?”

  “All right. Before you went dark, there was chatter that a stranger was talking about cooking something to release in the subway.”

  “That’s true. We sussed him out and deactivated his account immediately.”

  “Did you keep his information?”

  Will sat back and regarded Xander for a minute before answering. “Moon, this ain’t your fight. Why are you really here?”

  “I’m just looking out for a friend,” he said lightly.

  “That’s mighty kind of you. But you don’t need to worry about little ol’ me. I’m taking care of things. That’s why I came down here for a visit, just to be extra cautious. We’ll get the site up again in a day or two. Different host, that sort of thing. Just in case people who aren’t our friends go talking to the wrong sort. Know what I mean?”

  The sentence was pointed, and Xander received the message loud and clear.

  “I do. I’d also really like it if you would share this character’s last knowns with me. It would go a long way toward smoothing out the situation for us both. I can go to my people with the information and leave you out of it entirely.”

  He didn’t flinch when Will shot up out of his seat and took three steps toward him. He was expecting it. Intimidation was one of the things Will had always been good at. When they were kids, Xander may have succumbed to the peer pressure a time or three. But he was a man now, battle tested, and Will Crawford didn’t scare him a lick. Xander knew four ways to kill him without moving from his seat or breaking a sweat.

  But he found the move incredibly interesting. Will was covering for someone.

  “I thought you left the Army, Xander Moon.”

  “I did. But the Army will never leave me. I’m just trying to do the right thing here, Will. A lot of people got hurt. He tries again, maybe a lot of people get dead. I’d like to help make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  Silence again. The tension in the room had ratcheted up a notch. Xander had no idea why Will was protecting a stranger, which told him more than he wanted to know.

  “Fine,” Will finally said. “I don’t have much. It’s gonna take some serious talent to do anything with it. I hit a dead end, myself, and I’m pretty seriously talented.” He laughed then, and they all joined in, Xander and Roth not quite as heartily as Will and Stu. Five minutes later, their goodbyes said, they left.

  Xander had the information he wanted.

  Most of it.

  * * *

  The drive back was quiet. His father stared out the window, but Xander could tell he wanted to talk. With a sigh, Xander said, “What?”

  The invitation extended, Roth didn’t hesitate. “You should have let the police handle this, Moonbeam.”

  “I’m not in the habit of uncovering problems and handing them over to others to handle. That’s not what I was trained to do.”

  “But, Moon, Will had a point. You aren’t in the Army anymore. This isn’t your responsibility.”

  Xander took three breaths so he wouldn’t say anything he’d regret later.

  “I know you don’t understand, Roth, nor would I expect you to. We are very different men, you and I, and I respect your beliefs, and love you for them. But I am compelled to serve my country, whether they’re paying me to do so or not. Just because I’m not under command doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do the right thing when I can. If I’d told the police about this, or the FBI, instead of handling it myself, they’d have come in here guns blazing, and you saw how twitchy Crawford was. He’d have managed to get into a standoff, and people would have died. I wasn’t about to let that happen. My responsibility is to both this country and the people who share my convictions, as well as yours. Now I can get the appropriate information to the appropriate people with little to no danger to my friends. Surely that makes sense to you.”

  It was a good speech, one of his better arguments, actually. But Roth didn’t say a word.

  Well, he’d tried.

  The sun was setting behind them, casting a lovely light on the lake. When they reached the turnoff to Dillon, Xander was shocked to feel his father’s hand on his shoulder. Patting the muscle, then squeezing.

  “Well said
, son. Well said.”

  Chapter 23

  Washington, D.C.

  Dr. Samantha Owens

  Sam called Nocek the moment she hung up with Fletcher. She had to wait a minute—he was in the middle of an autopsy—but he came on soon enough.

  “Amado, I’ve found something. I think the toxin is abrin.”

  He was quiet for a moment, and Sam could practically hear him thinking.

  “Abrus precatorius. Samantha, that makes perfect sense, and fits all of the findings we’ve discovered. It would have to be inhaled to cause the exact damage to the organs we witnessed.”

  “I agree. Ledbetter, Conlon and Leighton all inhaled it. The question is, why did these three people die almost immediately after they were exposed? From what I remember, abrin poisoning can take hours to manifest, even days. Which also means the people who are still sick aren’t out of the woods, and more could begin to exhibit symptoms. I’ve told Fletcher, he’s warning the CDC and Homeland Security. The hospitals will need to treat specifically for this toxin to save their lives, and a public warning needs to go out so people who might have been exposed can look for symptoms.”

  It wasn’t lost on her that she was also still within the window of showing symptoms; hell, during the attack she was on top of ground zero. She could have been exposed and didn’t know it yet. The thought made her pulse pick up, and she immediately lifted a hand to her forehead. If she was going to manifest symptoms, they’d be similar to what Brooke showed yesterday in Sam’s classroom: lethargy, fever, cough, respiratory distress.

  Her forehead was cool to the touch, and she felt a bit of relief. Since there was no documentation that she was aware of about the toxin being used in an attack of this nature, it was quite possible that the only way to be fully exposed was to be in the Metro at the moment it was released.

  She heard Nocek tapping on a computer keyboard, most likely pulling up the information on the plant.

  “You are correct in all of your assumptions. I am very impressed, Samantha.”

  She flushed with pleasure. It was nice to have an attagirl from a man she respected.

  So one part of the mystery solved. Now she had to move on to parts two through six, and find out where Xander had rushed off to.

  “Amado, I need to ask you one more favor, and I need you to not ask me why.”

  “It would be my pleasure. Anything for you.”

  “Can you grab a blood sample from the congressman and send it for DNA typing? With an emergency return?”

  “Of course. Would you like me to disguise the name so there are no red flags raised?”

  Sam smiled. “Yes, I would. And thank you.”

  “You will be interested to learn, perhaps, that you are not the first person to request something private from the congressman today.”

  “Really? Who else wants DNA?”

  Nocek cleared his throat. “Not DNA in particular, though that would certainly be a by-product. No, the request was for fluids of a more...personal nature.”

  Sam immediately knew what he was talking about. “Please tell me it was the wife asking.”

  “Yes. That is correct.”

  “Did you give it to her?”

  “I did. She was in possession of a judicial order. I warned her there were no guarantees of strength or vitality, though it most likely was in time.”

  “Now that is one of the most interesting things I’ve heard all day. Do you think the semen could have been tainted by the abrin, assuming he tests positive?”

  “I do not know how quickly it moves through a body. That will be something for a geneticist to examine. As I understand it, the matériel was needed for an in vitro harvest procedure expected to take place two days hence.”

  “Wow. Quick thinking in the middle of the kind of grief she must be feeling.”

  “She was quite calm, actually. Upset, but determined.”

  God. Sam felt sorry for Mrs. Leighton. Not only losing your husband, but your chance of having his child, especially in the midst of the horror that was preparation for in vitro fertilization. It was quick thinking to gather his semen for the procedure. Generally, sperm had a window of about twelve to thirty-six hours where it could successfully be harvested postmortem unless special precautions were taken. Sam had never been faced with the situation Nocek was describing, but she’d certainly heard other medical examiners talk of it. It didn’t often work, but there had been cases where successful live births had been reported. It was normally a very gray ethical area that resulted in court orders and the like, which took so much time it damaged the chances of getting usable sperm.

  But there was a science for everything these days.

  Sam made a mental note to share that tidbit with Fletcher. Talk about something that would extend the news cycle on Leighton’s death for yet another week. The man’s life grew more complex by the hour. Pervert, serial killer, about to be a father again, dead in a terrorist attack.

  Too many facets, too many coincidences.

  “Amado, I need to run. Thank you for everything.”

  “I will let you know what I am able to discern. Be well, Samantha.”

  “And you.” She hung up just as George returned to his boss’s office with her tea.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

  “Two things. I’d like to get to know Dr. Ledbetter. Would you mind if we looked through her photographs, and you can share some of her stories with me?”

  George gave her a wistful smile. “Of course. That might actually be helpful for me, to say goodbye. Let me get you set up in the conference room. It will be easier to project them onto the screen instead of both of us hunched over her laptop. What’s the second?”

  “I’d like to talk to her daughter.”

  At that, George pulled up short. “Um, that might be harder to manage. They were estranged.”

  “Oh. I saw her post on Facebook earlier about her mother’s death. I didn’t get the sense that she was anything but a grieving daughter.”

  George coughed out a dry, sarcastic laugh. “Grieving, no. Celebrating is more like it.”

  “Why?”

  He waved his hand around. “All of this? Everything Loa had, her money, her holdings, her business? All of it goes to Loa the younger.”

  “Really. How much are we talking?” Sam asked.

  He raised an eyebrow. “In the neighborhood of twenty million, give or take. Which is criminal considering how much she hates her mother.”

  “Whoa.”

  “Yes. So now you understand. That’s about twenty-million reasons to want your mother dead.”

  Chapter 24

  Sam made another quick call to Fletcher while George hooked up the laptop to the projector.

  He answered, a little more wary this time.

  “Where are you, Sam? You need to get back here right now.”

  “Ah. Bianco knows I’m gone?”

  “You better believe it, sister. You are under orders to return here immediately.”

  “Is anyone listening to this?”

  “No.”

  “Standing nearby?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right. I’ll be quick. Go check out Gretchen Leighton. She retrieved her husband’s sperm about an hour ago. They were about to do in vitro. DNA will be run for you. And Ledbetter was worth $20 million, her sole heir is her estranged daughter, also named Loa. Nothing on Conlon, I’m still here.”

  Fletcher’s voice got a little lighter, like he held the phone away from his face. “Shit. She hung up. She didn’t say where she was, only that she was planning to head back to her house. You should probably send a couple of agents there to pick her up. I’m sorry, Andi. I thought
I could keep her on longer.”

  Damn, he was good. She’d never seen the deceitful side of Fletcher. She didn’t have much time, that was for sure. At least the agents would be heading to her house. She’d avoid home like the plague.

  She listened as Bianco ordered a couple of people to go find Sam and bring her back in, then listened to Bianco dress Fletcher down.

  “I still can’t believe you let a suspect go to the bathroom by herself, Detective. Sloppy work.”

  “Yeah, well. I thought I could trust her.”

  “You obviously are not thinking with the head resting on top of your shoulders.”

  There she was, the bitchy Bianco Sam suspected resided behind the sweet, polite veneer.

  “I said I was sorry. You’ll snatch her up in a few minutes and we’ll all move on with our day. Any more news about her boyfriend, Whitfield? Did you find him past Denver?”

  “No. The call traced to the cellular tower closest to the Denver International Airport. The authorities are looking for him now. You stay focused on your task, Detective. You’re all Leighton, all the time. Report in to me as soon as you have something.”

  Denver. Now his flight made sense to her. Xander had gone home. That was hugely valuable information. Thank you, Fletcher.

  With any luck, he’d stay ahead of the JTTF until he had the information he wanted. She couldn’t call him and warn him off, either, though she assumed he knew he was working on borrowed time.

  Fletcher came back on the line. “She’s gone. You get that?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know where he’s headed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Finish up there as quick as you can. I’ll get you on a flight.”

  “You want me to go track him down?”