A Prayer for the Devil (23 page)

Luke warily shook his hand and asked bluntly, “Why are you here?”

The man laughed. “Deborah just asked me the same question right before you walked in. I’m visiting all the families that lost relatives in the bombing. I want to assure everyone that we are working night and day to find the people responsible.”

Distrustful as to why the FBI was showing up now, weeks after the bombing, Luke asked, “Who else have you met with?”

Again, the man smiled. “You’re the first family.”

Now suspicious, Luke continued his questioning. “I’ve met with some of the families; who’s next on your list?”

Mike’s smile abruptly disappeared as he stumbled. “Um, ah, well, it’s getting late and my list is in the office. This was the only meeting I had scheduled for today.”

Judging by the looks on their faces, Luke could tell that Deb and Lori were wondering why he was questioning the man so harshly. After reiterating his commitment to finding the bombers, Mike stood and lifted the newspaper off the coffee table. Looking at the Thanksgiving Day picture that Lori’s husband had leaked to the press, he said, “Great article. It’s nice to see that you think about the homeless.” When awkward silence filled the room, he sensed it was time to go. He shook everyone’s hands, then Luke led him to the front door.

Before leaving, he handed his business card to Luke and said, “Do me a favor. If you see or hear anything regarding this investigation, please call me.”

Luke wondered if the FBI already knew what he knew about the case. As Dempsey walked toward his car, Luke asked, “What would I know about the investigation?”

Turning, he stared at Luke and replied, “Only you can answer that question.” A few seconds later, the electric gates opened, and the Town Car pulled into the street.

Still standing in the doorway, Luke wondered why the FBI had really showed up. Why today? Could it have anything to do with the fact the he had visited the mosques? He hadn’t talked to anyone at the construction companies, so it couldn’t have anything to do with that. And why did he comment on the homeless? Did someone from the governor’s office call the feds? Jami?

Deep in thought, Luke was startled when the security gates opened again. Seeing his old pickup truck enter the property, he smiled and greeted John.

At dinner, Luke had a hard time concentrating on anything but the bombing, prompting Deborah to ask several times, “Are you all right?” Sensing that Luke had a lot on his mind, John excused himself shortly after eating. Before he could leave, Luke asked him if he could go to the Common the next day and check on Blade. John agreed and headed back to Aaron’s office building to sleep.

On the computer again, Luke decided to find out exactly who Mike Dempsey was. Searching his name, he was surprised to find that he had a distinguished background. Dempsey had gone from being a Navy SEAL to a CIA agent to the FBI, or, like the article said, “from spook to suit.” It was interesting that he had spent a good part of his CIA career in the Middle East. There were pictures of him with the king of Saudi Arabia as well as the president of the United States. Whoever he was, he was no ordinary agent.

Next, he typed in the name Corner Stone Builders, hit Enter, and waited. There were several results but nothing really interesting. Not one word about who had owned the company.

Tired, confused, and worried, Luke said good night to Deb and Lori and then headed to bed.

LUKE WAS ANXIOUS TO
see Jami and find out if she had any information. He parked his car, and as he approached the coffee shop, he saw her sitting on a bench outside, wearing sunglasses and holding two cups of coffee. Seeing him, she flashed her beautiful smile and said, “Good morning,” as she handed him a cup.

“Good morning to you, too, and thank you very much!” He sat down next to her and took a sip. “Have you been waiting long?”

“No, I just got here a few minutes ago.”

Getting right to the point, Luke told her what he’d been up to for the past twenty-four hours. When she heard about his visits to the mosques, she said, “You should have let me go. Maybe the imams would have talked to me.”

Concerned that she didn’t fully appreciate the seriousness of what they were doing, he stated, “I would never put you in a position like that. You have to remember that whoever is responsible for this bombing has tremendous resources. They killed a presidential nominee.” He went on to admit that he thought he made a mistake by visiting the mosques. After telling her about FBI agent Mike Dempsey’s
impromptu visit and questioning, she began to realize the potential danger of their investigation.

“Maybe we should contact the police.”

Luke had thought about this also. But what would he tell them? And he wondered if this Dempsey guy already knew everything he knew. He made a mental note to get in touch with Detective Romo, then asked, “Did you find anything out from your friends?”

“I’m sorry, but none of them knew anything about construction companies run by Muslims. I didn’t want to ask too many questions.”

“That’s a good idea. Don’t ask anyone else about it. I think we have enough information.”

“What are we going to do next?” she asked.

“Well, let’s see if the FBI visits you. I’m going to find out who owned Corner Stone Builders.”

“How are you going to do that?”

Not wanting to tell her about Lori, he answered obscurely, “From the same person who told me about the building permits.”

They finished their coffees and stood to leave, when Jami reminded Luke, “Please call me if I can help you in any way. Remember, I’ll do anything to find the people who killed my sister.” Luke promised to stay in touch, and they said their good-byes.

When Luke arrived back home, he hurried into the house to find Deb and Lori. Not seeing anyone, he went downstairs to the gym. They were both jogging on treadmills, and Lori’s hair was now brown, like Deborah’s. “Nice hair,” Luke commented as he walked into the room. Lori fluffed it and smiled, saying, “Thank you.” Deb waved, not wanting to talk because she was conserving her breath. Thinking this was a good time to ask for a favor, Luke spoke above the noise. “Hey, Lori, would you mind if I sent another e-mail to Richard’s assistant? I need one more piece of information.” She nodded and gave a thumbs-up.

After composing and sending the e-mail, Luke sat and thought about what to do next. When his cell phone rang, he looked at the display and saw that it was John. It was almost noon, and he wondered why John hadn’t called earlier. “Well good afternoon,” he said in a jovial tone. John ignored his remark and said, “Luke, I hate to have to tell you this, but Blade is dead.”

Luke was horrified. He immediately headed out the door toward his car. “Where are you right now?”

“Still at the Common.”

When Luke began asking questions, John said, “Can we talk when you get here? I don’t want to say too much on the phone.”

Luke sped to the Common, parked on the street, and ran at full speed toward the fountain. Seeing John forlornly sitting on a bench, he squatted in front of him and cried, “What happened? Was it alcohol?” John was still in shock as he stared straight ahead. Ignoring Luke’s questions, he said, “It’s my fault. I’m the one who set this whole thing up, and he would still be alive if it wasn’t for me.”

Luke thought for a minute and said, “If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I gave him the money.”

“It wasn’t alcohol.”

Puzzled, Luke asked, “What was it, then?”

John turned to face Luke. “Drugs.”

Not believing what he was hearing, Luke asked, “Drugs? Are you sure?”

“One of the guys who saw him said that the needle was still sticking out of his arm when they found him.”

“I thought you said he didn’t do drugs.”

“He didn’t.”

Luke thought back to the day when they had found Blade drunk.
He had searched his entire body for needle marks but had seen none. He also remembered John’s insistence that he wasn’t a druggie.

“Where did they take the body?”

“I would assume he’s at the morgue.”

Luke took the prepaid cell phone from John and called Detective Romo, who agreed to meet them.

THE RECEPTIONIST AT THE
morgue recognized Luke and said, “Go right in. The detective is already waiting.” Noticing that John wasn’t following, Luke turned, and John said, “I’ll just wait here, if that’s OK.” As he followed the receptionist into the big concrete room, he felt the temperature plunge and saw Detective Romo standing next to a rolling table that held Blade’s lifeless body. He was talking to a man in a white coat, but Luke couldn’t hear what he was saying.

When they noticed Luke, the detective turned and shook his hand. Then he introduced Adam Owen, the medical examiner. Luke stared at the bluish color of the body. It was hard to believe that he had just had dinner with this man a few days ago; now he was dead. Detective Romo said, “Luke, when we spoke on the phone, I didn’t know that we were talking about Franklyn Hennessey.”

Astonished, Luke asked, “You know him?”

“Yes, but I didn’t know they called him Blade.”

“How do you know him?”